A Man's Heart (32 page)

They sat in silence, listening to a buoy bell tinkle in the distance. Soft breezes touched their face. This was the closest Jules had ever come to a real family. Sharing a moment with a sister, a moment when nothing needed to be said. By now Crystal knew all her faults and shortcomings and still wanted to be with her. If only Cruz had such unconditional love. Relationships were a lot like potatoes: unless cared for properly they could develop a lot of dark spots, bruise, and sprout eyes. Rot.

Time stopped and Jules rested in silky breezes, waves lapping the white sand shores and the endless cries of seagulls and ocean birds flitting about their daily lives.

What was intended to be a week's sabbatical turned into two. Then three. Joe was handling the farm just fine without Jules and encouraged her to stay. Each time Crystal spoke with Adan or the children, everything was swimmingly good.

Jules discovered she actually liked selling seashells to the tourists, watching children's delighted expressions as they held the ocean's treasure up to their ears and listened for the anticipated sound.

Evenings, she and Crystal ate shrimp at places like Louisiana Lagniappe while watching the sunset on the outdoor deck. Other times they enjoyed a hamburger at Pompano Joe's overlooking the Gulf of Mexico.

One night they found themselves on the shell shop verandah eating Vienna sausages and Doritos.

“I didn't know you liked Vienna sausages,” Crystal said around a mouthful of canned meat.

“Are you serious? They were Pop's staple. Don't you remember how he used to feed us cans of these things when Mom wasn't looking?”

“That must be why I crave them.” Crystal popped another in her mouth, and then lay back in her lounge, wiggling her toes in her flip-flops. “Have you tried the barbecue flavor?”

“Yeah, but I like the original ones best.” She glanced over. “You're vegetarian? What's the deal?”

“I am — except for the occasional Vienna sausage pig-out.” Her grin was pure mischief. “And a hamburger or burrito thrown in occasionally.”

“How often does that happen?”

“When I can't live another moment without the addicting things.”

“I know what you mean.” “Did Pop still eat canned chili?”

“Only when he wasn't eating Vienna sausages.” The sisters giggled, heady on canned meat.

“What about Mom? Did she still spend hours in the bathroom doing who knows what?”

Crystal nodded to the shell shop entrance. “I used the public bathroom every morning before we opened shop.”

Reclining, Jules popped another fat sausage in her mouth. “I climb out of bed, wash my face, brush my teeth and stick a hat on before I go to the fields — which reminds me, I'm out of toothpaste.”

Crystal shrugged and reached for the sack of Doritos. “I have plenty. Help yourself.”

“Thanks.” Jules snuggled deeper into her chair. That's something Sophie would have said. Lying back, she smiled, wondering what catastrophe awaited the two new “fathers”
today, for surely there had been those. She glanced at Crystal. “What did Adan have to say last night?”

Shaking her head, she perused a magazine. “Not much.”

“I say pride won't let them ask for help.” Cruz would never ask for her help, or even hint that he wasn't up to the job. She dropped a Dorito in her mouth. He had to be up to his hips in fatherhood.

A
dan!”

He stuck his head around the doorsill, holding Olivia in his arms. “You bellowed?”

Cruz studied the sheet of paper his brother handed him at breakfast. “What is this?”

“We have to potty train Livvy.”

Cruz's gaze shifted to the little girl. “We have to what?”

“Potty train. Livvy. She's two, and I've been reading this article on potty training. It says she's ready.”

“I don't know how to potty train a girl.”

“Neither do I, but the article says it's time we trained her, and you have to admit, those diapers are murder.”

Cruz nodded. Those daily stink bombs were killers, but potty training? He glanced at the paper heading: “Three days? It takes that long?”

“That's what it says. “

Olivia presented a cheeky grin.

Cruz shook his head. “You have to do it, Adan. I've got a weak stomach.”

“Who doesn't? You're not pawning this off on me.”

“It isn't my idea.”

“Get used to it. We can't have her wearing diapers until she's four.”

“What do I have to do?” The bitter irony of Jules's sneaky trick struck home. She had been right. Two was better than one when it came to caring for children. He could do it, but he couldn't count the times he'd wished that Jules was here to help.

“Nothing except take care of Ethan for the next three days.”

“That's all?”

Adan motioned to the article he'd downloaded off the internet. “The article says to stick to the kid you're training like glue. Every hour or so, I tell her to tell me when she needs to go potty.”

“You don't ask her if she needs to go?”

Adan took the paper and studied it. “No. It says I tell her to tell me.”

“That ought to work like a charm,” Cruz groused. “She doesn't understand the meaning of ‘potty'.”

“All I know to do is follow instructions.” Adan winked at Livvy. “Right, little girl? We'll show ‘em, won't we?”

Livvy giggled.

Cruz got up from the table. “And
she's
going to tell you.” “I don't know exactly how it works, but I'll give it a shot. What's your schedule the next three days?” “I don't know — routine, I guess.” “Then you can assume Ethan's full care?” “I guess.”

Adan squeezed Olivia. “Okay, Cricket, we're going to potty train you.”

The child stared back, wide-eyed. “Potty.”

Nodding, Adan grinned. “Potty.”

Cruz closed his eyes, admitting the obvious. Sophie was right. He wasn't ready to be a full-time father without Jules.
Without a wife,
he mentally corrected.

Later he went downstairs to the waiting mountain of laundry. Either the Delgados were the dirtiest or cleanest folk in town. The laundry had doubled — tripled since the kids had been here. Stuffing towels, jeans and whites into the washer, he dumped a capful of liquid detergent in the dispenser and pushed the hot water button. He couldn't keep up with the laundry. He washed day and night but there was always another load waiting.

Turning to last night's dryer load, he started to fold towels. There were a hundred. Overhead he heard Adan's boots thumping against the kitchen floor. The day Jules brought the children on a permanent basis was the last day the men had been on schedule. They'd divided the work. Adan cleaned, Cruz did the washing and cooking. They'd hired a neighbor to watch the kids while they did outside work. Next year Ethan would start kindergarten, but Olivia would need day-care. Daycare in these parts was no small feat, but they had the winter to look for a responsible housekeeper and nanny.

He tossed the empty basket aside and picked up another one. Where was Jules? She hadn't called; he hadn't spotted her new truck around town for the past few weeks. Nobody seemed to know where she'd gone including Joe. He had a hunch she'd taken off for Florida with Crystal.
Fine. You lay in the sun and surf. I'll potty train Livvy.
The Parkers were on his back; they were nice but they wanted an answer. There was no way they were going to get full custody or even shared
custody of Livvy. He'd see that she visited often, but that was as far as he'd yield.

“Hey, Adan!”

Adan's voice returned from upstairs. “Yo!”

“Did Jules go to Florida with Crystal?” It was the first time he'd inquired of Jules's whereabouts and he didn't want Adan getting any crazy notion in his head.

“Three weeks ago!”

Cruz folded tiny dresses.
Three weeks. Florida.
Well how nice for them. Anger mixed with an odd miss. He missed her.
Come on, Cruz.
When had she turned into a miss and not an irritant? This father thing was good, but it would be better with her by his side.

Adan came down the stairs carrying a full basket of dirty clothes. Cruz glanced up. “Come on. Are you standing out on the road asking for this stuff?”

“Hey, I don't create laundry, I just deliver it.” He set the overflowing basket down on the dryer. “Do you want me to lay out some hamburger meat for supper?”

“We just ate breakfast.”

“Yeah, and we've got lunch and supper left.”

Cruz folded a tiny blouse. “What's running upstairs?” A steady hum filled the upstairs den.

“Ethan's vacuuming.”

“You can't let a five-year-old vacuum! He's scratching up all the furniture.”

“He does a fairly decent job. It's a lightweight machine.”

“He sucked up all the Tinkertoys yesterday.”

“I know. I emptied the bag and he's back in business.”

Three weeks ago Cruz wouldn't have given vacuuming or supper a passing thought. He'd have stopped at The Grille,
grabbed a burger and fries, shot a couple of games of billiards, maybe taken a woman to a movie. But no more. The kids didn't fare well in public. Not during meals. And the only vegetables The Grille served were French fries, fried mushrooms or onion rings. Lean meat, green and yellow vegetables and milk weren't on the menu. These days, the bright spot in his life happened after supper when the kids were in bed and he could enjoy a Coke and bowl of popcorn without wiping up spills, or whacking backs to clear a popcorn husk.

But Jules.
Jules
was in Florida. So much for her, “Oh, Cruz, I really care for the children. They need both a mother and a father.” He tossed a towel on the folding table. Both a mother and a father. Right.

She is right, you fool.

Ignoring his own thought, he paused, staring at the sock in his hand. Where the heck did the extra sock come from?

S
ighing, Jules settled back in her lounge, staring at the stars. Millions twinkled over the glistening water. She was so relaxed she was lethargic. Her skin was now a warm creamy brown. The tropical smelling lotion she applied every night made her skin petal soft. She hadn't thought about a potato in weeks. She missed the kids dreadfully. Both she and Crystal couldn't enter a shop without each picking up something for Ethan and Olivia. The kids would have an abundance of new clothing when she got home.

Crystal came out of the living quarters carrying two large frosty glasses. “Peach tea?”

“Thanks.” Jules set the sweaty glass on the table beside her. Snuggling deeper into her lounge, she sighed. “I suppose I should think about going home.”

“I wish you wouldn't. I can't think of a better time in our lives than these past few weeks.”

Reaching for her sister's hand, Jules squeezed it. “Me neither.” A relationship they'd both wanted and desired had formed. She felt as close to Crystal tonight as she felt to Sophie.

Thank you, God, for giving me what I didn't even know that I needed so badly.

Crystal didn't replace Sophie. Nothing or no one could ever do that, but she was starting to hold her own special place in Jules's heart. A sister's place.

Taking the lounge beside her, Crystal settled. “I think about the kids so often. And Adan.”

“Me too — not Adan.” Jules glanced over sheepishly.

“I'd hope not. But you miss Cruz.”

“Yeah. I miss him.” Funny, but a few weeks ago she'd have kept that to herself. Now, the admission came easy with Crystal. She worried that she'd put too much on him; thrust him into the role of full-time fatherhood. He could handle it; she knew that now, but she wondered if he ever wished that she was there to help, to share in the joys and pitfalls of parenting.

Crystal wrinkled her nose playfully. “We've allowed the men enough time to settle into a routine. Let's both call and see how they're doing.”