“Did you tell them we don’t want to sell?” Sierra said.
Mike exchanged a look with Melissa. He sat down and leaned forward, his hands clasped between his knees. “No, I didn’t. I wanted to talk it over with you first.”
“I thought you loved the house as much as I do.”
“I do, Sis, but I’ve already got a home in Ukiah. My business is there. If I were to sell out and move, I’d want to go farther north to Garberville. Or Oregon. I haven’t the money to hang on to this place for sentimental reasons.”
Sierra got up and walked over to the fireplace. She ran her hand along the dusty mantel and looked at the old Seth Thomas mantel clock. It had run down months ago. Even with the furnace on, the house had a musty smell of disuse.
“The only other alternative is to rent the place out, and I don’t want to do that either. I’ve heard nothing but horror stories from friends who’ve rented property and had their places destroyed. The law being what it is, someone can move in and wreck a place before you get them out.”
Melissa rose. “I’ll make some coffee,” she said softly and left the room. Sierra knew her sister-in-law was making it clear to both of them that she had no say in their decision. It was up to them what they did about the house.
Her family had lived in Sonoma County for over a hundred years. Mary Kathryn McMurray had been the first one to put down roots in the fertile soil now covered by tract houses. Ah yes, Mary Kathryn McMurray, who had come with all the eagerness and joy that she herself had felt when Alex had moved her to Los Angeles!
“Do you want the house, Sis?”
Oh, God, do I have to give up my home? You know how much I love this old house. What do You want me to do?
Again, the answer was clear. Let go.
“Sierra?”
She leaned her head against the edge of the mantel. What choice was there? “No matter how much I want it, it’s beyond possible. I don’t have enough left of my inheritance to buy out your share in it, and then there are the taxes.” She lowered her hands and turned. “And I just bought my condo. I’d take a loss if I tried to sell it now with the market being what it is. That’s why I got it for such a good price in the first place. And then, if it did sell, I’d be out of work up here.”
“Do you want the house?” he said again.
She knew her brother would bend over backward to make things easier on her, even at cost to his own family finances. “I want what’s best for all of us,” she said quietly.
“So what do you think that means?”
She forced a smile for his sake. “What’s this couple like?”
A look of relief filled her brother’s face so that she knew exactly what he wanted. No more burdens to bear. And could she blame him? She was the one living in Los Angeles, too far away to pitch in and help with maintaining the house. He had been taking care of everything since their mother had died.
“They’re nice people, in their midforties, financially set. They’ve been living in San José for the past twenty-two years. They have two children, a boy and girl. The boy’s off at Bible college studying to be a pastor. The daughter’s married with a baby on the way. Jack’s hobby is woodcrafting, and Reka’s into gardening.”
Sierra thought of her mother’s backyard going wild. It would be nice having someone pour love back into it and make it bloom again. Hadn’t Mom invited these people in for coffee and cookies and given them a grand tour? Hadn’t she been the one to say come back in a year or two? She’d known she’d be gone by then. Full realization struck her, tightening her throat with tears. “It’s just like Mom to tie up all the loose ends, isn’t it?” she said with a smile.
“Yeah,” Mike said, his voice husky with emotion.
“So,” she said more lightly. “Do you have their number?”
He nodded.
“Why don’t you call and ask if they’d like to come up on Saturday and we’ll talk turkey.”
He laughed, his eyes moist. “Sure.”
She debated telling María and Luís the next day. They were upset enough over Alex’s broken marriage, without adding to their worries of never seeing their grandchildren. One word about selling the Mathesen Street house and Thanksgiving would be ruined for María, who lived for her children and grandchildren.
There were a dozen running around when Sierra arrived. Clanton and Carolyn piled out of the Saturn and joined in the games. They remembered their Spanish, picking it up as though they’d been jabbering it nonstop at home.
Luís hugged her tightly when she came into the house and then kissed her on both cheeks. She hadn’t seen him since Alex had left her, and his greeting brought a lump to her throat. María was right behind him, crying, and talking in rapid-fire Spanish.
Alex’s brothers and sisters treated her with the warmth they always had. His older brother, Miguel, a vintner for one of the Sonoma wineries, even flirted outrageously with her. His sister, Alma, let it slip that Alex had brought Elizabeth Longford home for a few days to meet the family.
“Papa wouldn’t let them stay here. He said Alex could take her to a motel room, but he wouldn’t have them sleeping together under his roof. Alex rented a suite at the Doubletree. She refused to come back with him the next day. Alex and Papa had words. He’s called and talked to Mama, but I don’t think he and Papa have talked since.”
Grandfather. Father. Son.
Sierra changed the subject, but Alex’s name kept coming up. And then he called. He talked to his mother. Then he talked to Clanton and Carolyn. Papa went outside for a walk. When he came back, Alex had long since hung up. For the rest of the evening, she could feel Luís watching her. María, too.
God, how much we hurt others without even thinking about it. We think we can make a decision without it tearing other people’s hearts in two.
Sierra took Clanton and Carolyn aside when she found an opportunity. “How would you feel about coming and spending a few weeks with your grandparents next summer?” From their eager responses, she knew she could approach Luís and María about the idea. She found the chance while helping María wash and put away dishes.
“Would you and Luís like to have Clanton and Carolyn spend a few weeks with you next summer?”
María started to cry. “Sí, sí,” she said. “As often as possible. What about Christmas?”
Sierra hugged her. “We can’t come Christmas, Mama. We’re in a pageant at the church. Easter. We’ll come for Easter, if that’s all right with you.”
“Sí. You come home Easter.”
Most of the relatives had already headed home to Santa Rosa or Cloverdale or the Bay Area where they lived. Clanton and Carolyn were the last of the younger generation lounging around in the small, neat country house on the edge of the vineyard.
“The family is scattering,” María said, teary as each one left. “Alex off in Connecticut—”
“Mama!” Luís hissed and gave Sierra an apologetic look.
“It’s all right, Papa,” Sierra said, trying to ease their discomfort. “I know about it.” The children reported everything, even when she wished they wouldn’t.
Luís walked her to the car. “When are you and the niños leaving?”
“Sunday morning. Early. It’s a long drive.”
“I’m going to six o’clock Mass.” He looked old—old and hurt—and she loved him unbearably.
She kissed his cheek. “We’ll meet you there.”
He cupped her cheek. “My son is a fool.”
Sierra’s eyes filled. “No, Papa. I was the fool.”
Dear Lord, since that bear I have been thinking.
And I have been looking and seeing lots of things different from before. It is like something changed inside me. It seems to me everything around me now cries out You are here. You have put Your stamp on every created thing. I can hear Mama from so long ago pointing out flowers and trees and birds and animals and saying how they are all gifts from You. She said to me once that You decorated the world from the
depths of the sea to the heavens just for us.
Maybe I am wrong, but I do not think You did all that purely for our pleasure. I think now You did it so we could see You.
I see things differently now, Lord, and spent a good part of my day choked up with grief over the hard things I have said about You.
It rained today and I kept thinking how it washes everything clean and the earth drinks and becomes fertile. Aunt Martha used to talk so much about the Word being a double-edged sword revealing to us our sins so that we could confess and ask forgiveness and receive Your Mercy and Grace. The so that part always eluded me. Now it seems to ring in my ears day and night.
And I was thinking too about time. I suppose You do not have need of it, being God and all, but I am glad I have more of it.
The fog last night reminded me of how clouded my thinking has been where You are concerned, Jesus. I could feel the oppressing Fears that have been my companion for so long closing in again like that misty gray blanket. I was awake most of the night worrying over so many things. And then Dawn came pink and orange and took my breath away and the fear with it. How could I think of dying and my children starving before such Glory?
A good night’s sleep is a precious thing, Lord. Sometimes I am so tired I ache for rest and sink into a cottony place where even hard ground feels like a feather bed. Maybe tonight will be like that now that I have told You what has been on my mind.
I guess if You heard my prayer over that bear, Lord, You can hear me about this. We are hungry, Jesus. We made do with two fish Hank caught today, and I am thankful to You for them. But it is not enough to keep us going. So, I am asking You again to save us from death. Please, Lord, help us again or we will starve just like those poor folks who did not make it through the mountains.
Chapter 21
“What happened?” Sierra said when Clanton unlocked the door and walked in at three in the afternoon on Saturday instead of ten in the evening when Alex usually brought him home.
“He dropped me off,” he said, slinging his backpack onto the wing chair she’d just finished recovering.
“Did you have a fight?”
“Not with him.”
The look of defiance on his face and swelling across his left eye made her stomach drop. Had Alex hit him? “Did you say something to Elizabeth?”
“Yeah, you could say that, but she said something to me first.”
“What?”
“She told me to take out the garbage.” He gave a defiant snort. “Yeah, right, like I’m the one living there all week. I told her she could take out her own trash. I’m not her personal servant. Then she launched into this lecture on how she had to give up every Saturday with Alex so he could be with his snarly, snot-nosed son.”
She could feel the heat of anger rising and fought to remain calm. “Were those her exact words?” Elizabeth worked with Alex every day of the week. She spent every night in his bed. She had him all to herself on Sundays. And she was complaining about the one measly day a week he spent with his two children?
Didn’t you?
“Close,” Clanton said, giving her an odd look when she winced. “She called me a ‘half-breed.’ So I told her what she was.”
“Oh, Lord,” Sierra murmured and sat down on the couch. “What did you call her?”
“You know what I called her. I said it in Spanish, but I guess she got the point. What did you expect? She started in on you.” His eyes glittered. “She said the reason Daddy left was because you were a dull housewife with no brains and no class. And it looked like I took after you. So I told her she wasn’t any better than a common hooker, just a little more expensive on the upkeep. She slapped me across the face and called me a ‘foul-mouthed, uncouth little wetback.’”
His eyes lost the heat of anger and glistened with hurt. “I didn’t see Dad standing in the doorway. I’ve never seen him look so mad. He told me to get my things. He was taking me home. And she just stood there, smirking.”
Sierra ached for him. She remembered the way Alex had looked at her the day he’d left. She’d never known a man whose eyes could be so hot and cold at the same time. “Did he say anything to you on the way home?”
“Nothing,” he said softly. He turned away slightly, but she’d already seen his tears. “I’m going to my room.”
Sierra wanted to call Alex and give him a piece of her mind about the fiasco. She wanted to take Elizabeth Longford into a ring and pulverize her.
A wetback?
A plague on her, Lord! Forgive my wrath, Father, but I’d like to rip her heart out!
If she didn’t do something, she’d explode.
“Clanton? I’m going for a walk. I’ll be back in a little while.”
Her walk turned into a run, and by the time she returned, she was streaming sweat, her lungs heaving, her heart pounding like a kettledrum. She leaned over the kitchen sink, gasping for air, and splashed water on her hot face. She drank a few sips of water. The telephone rang.
Snatching the kitchen towel from the oven handle, she dried her hands. It rang again. If it was a telephone sales call, they were going to wish they’d picked another number. As it turned out, she barely said hello before Alex was making demands.
“Let me talk to Clanton.”
God! Help! If You can cool me off, cool me off fast!
“Why?” she said tautly. She wasn’t ready to hand her son over to Alex again. Not for a long, long time.
“Why’re you breathing like that?”
“Because I went out for a run, okay? A hard run! It was either that or buy a shotgun and shoot two people!” She slammed the phone down.
It rang again. She gritted her teeth. Turning, she caught a glimpse of her face in the glass front of the cupboard-mounted microwave. Amazing! No steam coming out her ears, but she looked rabid enough to begin frothing at the mouth.
Clanton came out of his bedroom. “Aren’t you going to answer it, Mom? It might be Dad.”
“It is Dad. If you want to talk to him, you answer it, because if I do, I’m going to tell him what he can do with himself and that . . . that broad he’s living with.” She stalked off down the hallway and went into her bedroom.
The telephone stopped ringing. She could hear Clanton’s voice, subdued, scared, his heart in Alex’s hands. He didn’t say much more than hello. Apparently, Alex wanted to do all the talking. She clenched her hands, wanting to pick up the extension and listen to the other end of the conversation. Instead, she sat on the bed and prayed through clenched teeth.
Strike them with lightning, Lord. Open the earth and swallow them.
Alex and Clanton didn’t talk long.
Expecting to have to pick up the pieces, Sierra came out to find her son rummaging through the refrigerator. “What did he say?” she asked, surprised that he was hungry. She always lost her appetite after a big fight.
Clanton straightened, a carton of milk in one hand and a Tupperware container of cold homemade enchiladas in the other. “He said he wasn’t mad at me, but it was going to be a week or two before he could see me again.”
“And?”
“And, that’s it.” He shrugged, set the milk on the counter, and put the entire Tupperware container into the microwave.
Sierra heard from Audra before Alex called again.
“He left her.”
“Excuse me?” Sierra said, startled. Audra hadn’t even identified herself before blurting out the news.
“Alex left Elizabeth,” she said. “He packed everything and walked out on her last Saturday. They had a huge brouhaha over something, and this after Vesuvius erupted in Connecticut.”
What had happened in Connecticut? She didn’t have a chance to ask before Audra rushed on.
“Alex came in Monday morning looking like thunder and told Steve to assign someone else to his work. He doesn’t want her within ten feet of him. She came in an hour later. Steve talked with her briefly. He wouldn’t tell me what was said, other than that she gave notice and
left.”
“Where’s Alex living?”
“In a hotel in Beverly Hills, I think. Do you want his number? I could get it for you.”
Sierra thought about it for a moment. “No. He’ll call when he’s ready. He told Clanton he’d be in touch with him and Carolyn in a week or two.”
“You don’t want to talk to him?”
“I’ve said enough already.” As usual.
Alex didn’t call. He came by. Not on a Friday evening, but on Saturday in the pouring rain. She heard the doorbell ring and Carolyn and Clanton talking to someone. They knew not to let strangers in, so she assumed it was one of their friends stopping by or her neighbor, Frances, with another delicious treat she’d concocted as an experiment for her gourmet cooking class.
“Nice.”
Her heart jumped at the sound of his voice. Luckily, she was firmly planted on the ladder, where she was just dabbing the last touches of gold acrylic paint on the sunflower design she’d drawn along the wall of her bedroom. She’d completed half of it over the last two weeks.
She looked over her shoulder and saw Alex leaning against the doorjamb, watching her. “I wasn’t expecting you.” Amazing how calm she sounded.
“I know.” His glance flickered over her.
Sighing inwardly, she looked away. The last thing she needed was his disdain. Why did he always have to catch her looking like someone who had crawled out of a bag of rummage sale rejects? She brushed a strand of hair back from her eyes, wondering how much paint she had smudged on her face. She had at least a dozen stains on her paint shirt, and her cutoff Levi’s should have been trashed years ago. There was a hole under the right back pocket big enough that he’d be able to see the cotton flowered underpants she wore underneath.
“Are you taking the children out?” she said, feigning indifference. Maybe someday her heart wouldn’t leap into her throat at the sight of him.