“Why can’t you do what you want on your own time here?”
“Because I don’t have the equipment it takes.”
“And what if it doesn’t work out, Alex?”
“I’ll cross that bridge if I come to it.”
Shaking violently, she sank down onto the sofa, her hands clenched into fists as she fought her tears. “I don’t want to move, Alex.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” he said, sounding torn between frustration and understanding. “You’d be happy if we stayed in this place for the rest of our lives.”
She met his troubled gaze. “What’s wrong with this place?”
“I want more out of life than a thirty-year mortgage on a tract house.”
A tract house? Was that how he saw their home? He made it sound like a cardboard box. She thought of the time she had spent painting, hanging wallpaper, planting and tending the front and back yards so that it looked like an English garden. Hurt beyond words, she covered her face and wept.
Alex said a short, foul word under his breath and sat on the sofa beside her. “My little homebody,” he said tenderly, touching her hair. She jerked away and started to get up. He caught her wrist and jerked her down again. “You’re not going anywhere.”
She cried harder, and he pulled her firmly into his arms, swearing softly under his breath again. “I know you’re scared, Sierra. You’ve spent your whole life in Healdsburg. What do you know about anything else? You think this place is the end-all of creation.”
“Most of the people in Los Angeles would probably think they’d died and gone to heaven if they could live where we do.”
“People who aren’t going anywhere, anyway. I should’ve taken you to Berkeley with me. Then maybe you’d understand how a place can hum with ideas and excitement. That’s what I feel when I’m around these guys. Energy.”
She didn’t know what he was talking about, but she felt the excitement running through him.
“I graduated with honors, Sierra, and what am I doing with what I learned?” He gave a dismal laugh under his breath. “Nothing.”
She struggled free. “How can you say that? You’ve been working only ten years, and you’ve already accomplished what most people spend their whole lives trying to do.”
“Yeah,” he said cynically. “A three-bedroom, two-bath tract house that looks like every other house on the block. Two children. Two cars. All we lack is the dog and cat to fit into the mold of middle-class America. Big deal!” His eyes burned with intensity.
She went cold inside at the way he described their life.
He searched her face. “Don’t look at me like that, Sierra,” he said, softening. He cupped her face. “I’m not criticizing you or what you’ve done to make this place a home. I didn’t make this decision to hurt you. I love you.” He kissed her. “You know I love you. I’ve done everything so far to make you happy.”
“I am happy, Alex.”
“I know,” he said grimly, his hands sliding away. “The trouble is, I’m not.”
His softly spoken words struck a stunning blow. Fear and confusion gripped her. He was telling her she wasn’t enough; he wasn’t satisfied.
“I want more, Sierra. I’m still hungry. I want to explore new frontiers in computer technology. I want a chance to do something meaningful.” He smiled wryly. “And maybe even get rich while doing it.”
When she remained silent, he spent the next hour telling her all the details of his new job. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him so excited about anything. Depressed, she said she needed to start dinner.
“I’ll fly down to Los Angeles on Saturday,” Alex said, leaning against the doorframe and watching her work. “Steve Silverman made an appointment for me with a Realtor who handles rentals in North Hollywood. He knows everyone in that area.”
Good for him, Sierra thought rebelliously. Her hands shook as she peeled potatoes. “How soon do we have to move?”
“I start on the first of the month.”
“Three weeks?” She could feel the blood draining from her face. “But the house will never sell in three weeks,” she said shakily, looking for any excuse to delay his plans.
“Probably not, but that’s okay, too. One of the guys at work is going to rent it.”
Sierra blinked. “Rent it?”
“His wife’s expecting a baby, and they’ve been looking for a bigger place.” The telephone rang. “Our house payments are less than what they’re paying to rent a two-bedroom apartment,” he said over his shoulder as he went to answer it in the family room.
She could hear Alex speaking in the other room. “We were just talking about it. No, but I didn’t expect her to be. Don’t worry about it.” Silence for a long moment.
Sierra looked out the kitchen window at the daffodils she had just planted along the back fence. She’d never see them bloom.
“I land in Burbank at ten fifteen. No, but thanks for the offer, Steve. I’m going to rent a car. I want to drive around and get a feel for the area.” He laughed. “I have a good sense of direction.”
Tears ran down Sierra’s cheeks as she finished preparing their dinner. Normally she enjoyed cooking; right now, even the sight of food made her stomach churn.
Alex was still talking on the telephone. Discussing terms. He sounded very cool, very much in control.
He was going through with this. Nothing she’d said had gotten through.
Oh, God, she prayed frantically. If You’re really there, don’t let Alex do this to me. Put stumbling blocks in his way. Open his eyes to what he has here. Make him satisfied. Don’t let the house sell. Change his mind. I don’t want to move! Jesus, I want to stay right here where I am. Oh, God, please don’t let this happen!
Slamming the head of lettuce on the counter, she pulled out the core. She put the plug in the sink and ran cold water and then pulled the head of lettuce into pieces.
With each action, she whispered brokenly. “Oh, God. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.” Her shoulders shook with her quiet weeping as she listened to Alex shattering her life with his plans.
Part Two
The Wilderness
Chapter 3
Exhausted, Sierra pulled her Honda in behind the big U-Haul truck Alex had rented to move all their possessions and to tow his car. Clanton got out the passenger side of the truck and looked up at the big stark-white apartment complex. Sierra followed his gaze.
The place had all the charm of a fortress.
She rolled down her window, not eager to get out into the cold, driving January rain. She could hear the roar of traffic from two intersecting freeways half a block away. “Is this it?”
“It looks a lot better inside. Come on. I’ll show you around.”
She leaned across the seat and kissed Carolyn, awakening her. “We’re here, sweetheart.”
Carolyn looked out at the apartment house. “It’s ugly,” she said glumly. Sierra didn’t disagree.
Clanton was already going through the iron gates into the complex. “Hey! There’s a pool! Can I go swimming, Dad?”
“Sure, if we can find your suit,” Alex said, laughing.
As Sierra climbed out of the car and came around for Carolyn, she was certain she could smell and taste the smog despite the rain pouring down on her head. She took her still-sleepy daughter by the hand and followed Alex through the gate. The inside courtyard was sterile: a gray cement patio, white stucco walls, and a black iron fence. Three stories of apartments were stacked together like crates in a warehouse. Geometric. Ultramodern. Cold and impersonal.
Sierra didn’t see any signs of life until a woman peered out at her from a first-floor living room window. Sierra forced a smile. The woman drew back sharply and let the sheer drapes fall into place once more.
Welcome home, Sierra thought bitterly, following Alex.
“We’re on the second floor, apartment D,” he said. Clanton was first to the stairs, eager to see his new home.
The apartment was as white
inside as the building was outside, except for the rug, which was a pale beige. The living room was roomy enough, but the kitchen was cramped and utterly utilitarian. The small dining area was barely large enough to accommodate a table and four chairs. Sierra wandered into the hallway. To the left was the bedroom Clanton and Carolyn would share. It was only big enough for twin beds and one dresser. The other dresser would have to go into the closet. Sierra’s mouth thinned. Clanton and Carolyn were going to love this; they were fighting already.
A glance into the bathroom revealed walls, tiles, and a commode in antiseptic white. She continued down the short hallway into the master bedroom. Most of their furniture would fit, though Alex’s armoire would probably have to go inside the closet. Sierra caught her reflection in the mirror on the closet doors; she did not look pleased. Turning away, she went to open the drapes covering a large window and discovered a view of the courtyard and pool below. Just like a hotel.
Depressed, she went back into the living room.
Alex hung up the telephone that Steve Silverman, his new boss, had been kind enough to have installed before their arrival. Steve had told Alex to call as soon as they arrived, and he and Matt would come with helpers to get them settled. “They’ll be here in ten minutes,” Alex said, grinning. Either oblivious to or ignoring her mood, he caught hold of her shoulders and kissed her before heading for the door.
In less than two hours, all their furniture was in position and boxes stacked high against the living room wall. Steve had a couple of pizzas delivered. Matt had brought a six-pack of beer and another of soda. Clanton and Carolyn tucked away the food eagerly while Sierra pleaded no appetite and escaped into the bedrooms to hide her angst. She made the beds, hung pictures, laid out the bathroom rug and towels. Then she set to work on the master bedroom, the sound of the men’s laughter irritating her more with each passing minute.
Clanton found his bathing suit. Her first no brought out his debating skills. Her mother always said Clanton would make a good lawyer. “I said no, Clanton. It’s raining and . . .”
He followed her out into the living room and appealed to Alex. “Dad, can I go swimming? The rain isn’t going to hurt me.”
“Sure. Go ahead,” Alex said, pausing in his conversation with Steve and Matt long enough to gainsay her. He saw her expression after the fact. “What’s the big deal?” he said as Clanton charged out the door before she could say anything. “He’s going to get wet anyway, and the pool’s heated.”
“Fine. You stand out in the rain and keep an eye on him,” she said, her fury far exceeding the incident. Swinging around, she went back into the master bedroom and plunked down on the bed.
Alex came in a moment later, tight-lipped. “We’re going out for a while.”
“Out?”
“For an hour or two. To talk business.”
She clenched her hands, wanting to scream. “Is Clanton back from his swim?” she said with icy sweetness.
He stalked across the room. “You can sit nice and cozy where you are and keep an eye on him while you’re sulking.”
Raw and exhausted, she looked at him. “What about groceries, or will there be enough pizza left for breakfast?”
“If you look out the front gate, you’ll see the back of one of the biggest supermarkets in North Hollywood. You’ve got a car, and you’ve got the checkbook. Get what you need.” He went to the door and stopped. He uttered a soft curse and slammed the heel of his fist against the frame. “I’m sorry,” he said bleakly.
Blinking back tears, she looked away.
“This is only temporary, Sierra.”
Still she said nothing.
“I’ll hook up the TV before we leave.”
“Great. That’ll be a real comfort,” she muttered under her breath as he left the room. A few moments later she watched him walk by the bedroom window with Steve and Matt. They were so intent on their conversation that he didn’t even spare a glance at her. She was already forgotten.
Clanton and Carolyn were asleep in bed before he returned.
“An hour or two?” she said when he walked in the door.
He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it on the sofa. “We had a lot to talk about.”
She snapped off the television. She hadn’t even been paying attention to what she was watching, so intent was she on the time. “It’s after midnight, Alex. I’ve been worried sick. You could’ve called.”
“I would’ve if I could’ve remembered the number. We’re unlisted.”
An excuse, not an apology. “I’m going to bed,” she said in a choked voice and left him standing in the living room.
She brushed her teeth and washed her face, then went into the bedroom to undress. Alex came in as she was pulling on her nightgown. “It’s been a long day,” he said.
“The longest of my life.”
She got into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin, staring up at the dark ceiling. She heard the whisper of clothing as Alex undressed. The bed dipped slightly when he sat down on it. He didn’t say anything more. What could he say? Swallowing hot tears, she turned her back to him while he set the alarm clock. When he lay back, he let his breath out slowly.
She felt his hand curve over her hip and squeeze slightly. “I’m sorry.”
His apology brought a rush of feelings and a flood of tears. She dug her fingers into her pillow, trying to stifle her sobs. Alex turned to her. Curving his body around hers, he pulled her into him, holding her firmly when she resisted his comfort. He stroked her long hair back and kissed the curve of her neck. “I love you.”
She cried harder.
He turned her to him gently. “Trust me,” he said raggedly and kissed her, comforting her in the only way he knew how.
And for a while, Sierra was able to forget everything but the fact that she loved Alejandro Madrid above all else.
Chapter 4
Armed with a map and an address, Sierra set off to enroll the children in school. She missed a turn and got lost. By the time she found what she was looking for, she and the children had seen North Hollywood, a portion of Studio City, eaten at a McDonald’s, and toured most of Sherman Oaks and San Fernando Valley. They arrived and entered the school building just as the bell rang to end the day.
Children poured out of classrooms and filled the hallway. The cacophony of squeaking tennis shoes, friends calling to friends, and the general rush for the buses assaulted them. Carolyn clutched frantically at Sierra’s hand as they went against the flow, while Clanton plowed ahead and led the way to the main office.
A secretary greeted them. She was polite, but cool, clearly tired and ready to go home. “Fill these out,” she said briskly and went in to speak with the principal. Returning, she informed Sierra that Clanton would be in Mr. Cannon’s fourth-grade class and Carolyn in Mrs. Lindstrom’s third grade.
“Both teachers have after-school meetings today, so you’ll have to wait to meet them until tomorrow morning. School starts at eight thirty.” The secretary turned the forms around and looked them over. “Kling Street,” she said. “That’s only a few blocks from here.” Sierra’s face went hot with humiliation at the disclosure.
“We have a list of parents who take turns walking their children to school each day.”
“I’ll be driving mine,” Sierra said, unwilling to entrust her children to anyone. Clanton groaned expressively, and she gave him a quelling look.
Back in the car, she sat studying the map before starting the engine. She didn’t want to get lost again and end up in Watts this time.
Alex laughed when she told him about it. “I wondered where you were,” he said. “I called twice today and got no answer. I was afraid you’d packed up and gone back to Windsor.”
She didn’t think his remark amusing.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, leaning his hip against the counter. “My first trip down here, I had an appointment in Burbank. I got on the wrong freeway and ended up in Agoura. It’s not hard to do.”
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His words were hardly comforting.
They went to Steven’s house for dinner. Alex’s new boss had even made arrangements for a professional babysitter to look after Clanton and Carolyn. She came complete with references and a list of classes in first aid that she had completed at Northridge.
Alex found his way to their Sherman Oaks home without difficulty. Steven answered the door and ushered them into a spacious, elegantly decorated living room. His wife, Audra, was perfectly charming and courteous, but Sierra felt an undercurrent of disdain that nullified the show of warmth and hospitality. Audra wore a fine, lacquered veneer of friendliness, leaving Sierra to wonder at what lay beneath the flawless surface.
Alex seemed perfectly at ease with both of them, making Sierra wonder if she was imagining the crosscurrents and undertow. But within the course of the first ten minutes of conversation, she knew it was not her imagination. Somehow Sierra had been made fully aware that Audra was a graduate of USC who had studied—and mastered—liberal arts and who had been a member of one of the more prestigious sororities.
Then Audra turned her perfect, elegant gaze on Sierra and asked where she’d gone to college. It was the first time in Sierra’s life that she was embarrassed to admit she had only graduated from high school and finished a year at a secretarial college.
“Oh,” Audra said, looking utterly taken aback. There was a brief, mortifying lapse in conversation, until Steve jumped in.
“Do you like the theater, Sierra?”
“I haven’t been to many plays.”
“What have you seen?” Audra inquired, her eyes lighting with interest.
“Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat,” she said, not telling Audra it had been a high school production. “And a few concerts,” she added, which was true—in just the last six months she’d gone to a country western concert and to hear a few Christian singers who had visited local Santa Rosa churches. Of course, she didn’t think Audra needed to know the details.