“I just want to be with you,” he said then. “I don’t care where.”
I melted.
“Twila showed me a glimpse of things to come, you know.”
He smiled at me. “Anything good waiting down the line?”
“The vision was kind of a mess, but we might be having a boy. If what she showed me is true.”
“Really?” The lights from the parking lot outside illuminated his face well enough that I saw his brows arch. “I guess we should talk about names, then.”
“I was hoping to convince you to name him after Kel.”
His fingers tensed in mine. I knew he had mixed feelings about the guy, but since he was gone, I wanted to do something to honor his life . . . and his sacrifice. So I tried to explain.
“Not Kelethiel. That’s too weird to hang on a kid. But something that could shorten to Kel as a nickname. Kelvin, Kelton, Kel—”
“Kellen,” he cut in. “I could live with Kellen.”
“Wow. You’ve been thinking about this already.”
He nodded, bringing my hand to his lips. The kiss to my palm roused tingles up and down my whole arm. “I have, actually. I’ll never like the fact that you cared about him . . . or that he wanted you for himself. But I’m here with you, and he died to make that happen. I feel like I need to repay the debt somehow.”
“Me too,” I admitted.
“Kellen means mighty warrior,” Chance said as the bus pulled away from the terminal. Chuch’s car drove out after us, and they turned the other way to take Shannon home.
“That sure fits, considering what this kid has already been through.”
“He’s a fighter, like you. I’m sure, down the line, he’ll make our lives hell.”
“In the best possible way.”
A family, I thought. That’s what we are—with shared dreams, a promise of forever. It had been so long that I didn’t remember how I should feel about that, and I strangled more tears. Men didn’t usually understand that they could come from a place of joy too, and I didn’t want to worry Chance.
He held my hand the entire trip. Not because he was afraid, but because he wanted to. He laced our fingers together after we talked about baby names and only relinquished me in Monterrey. No hitches prevented us from catching the next bus, a twelve-hour trip that ended with us exhausted in Mexico City. I fell asleep on Chance’s shoulder; he only woke me when we pulled into the final station. Then he collected our bags and hailed a cab in halting Spanish. I glowed a little that he was trying so hard. As we got in the taxi, I rang Tia to let her know we’d be there soon.
Though it was early, traffic was heavy, and it took forty-five minutes to reach my mentor’s house. She opened the door before I’d hardly rung the bell and hugged me hard. As usual, she wore a loose housedress and an apron in competing floral patterns. Her gray hair was braided neatly; her lined face revealed nothing but pleasure in my arrival.
“It’s so good to see you,” she said in Spanish.
“Likewise.” I kissed her cheek.
She gave me a serious look. “I wondered if I had to die to get you to come home.”
“No, I just had some business to take care of first.”
“I know, nena. Looks like you tracked Chance down too. I told you to keep this one. You’ll make beautiful babies.”
A blush heated my cheeks, but I didn’t dispute her words. “I hope so. We’ll find out in seven months or so.”
Her eyes dropped to my belly; then she pressed gnarled fingers to my abdomen. “Felicidades! Do you want to know if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“You can tell?” Chance asked in surprise. “Just from a touch?”
Tia cackled. “Of course not. I’m a witch, not a gypsy. But if I guess, I have a fifty percent chance of being right. I used a little of your money,” she went on, as she ushered me into the house for warm gorditas and cold horchata.
Once she settled us at the kitchen table, I waved her statement away. “I intend to settle some money on you, so you don’t have to work so hard.”
“I appreciate that, mija.” The diminutive endearment meant she looked on me as a daughter, or more likely, granddaughter.
Touched, I ate the snack she had prepared, and we chatted about how life had treated her in our absence. She complained about a rival named Juanita and the witch who was undercutting her at the market stalls. Comforting that some things never changed . . . that I had a place where somebody always welcomed me.
After we finished, Chance kissed Tia’s hand and said, “I trust you have no objection to my attentions to Corine, especially in light of her interesting condition.”
“You’re a good boy,” she said. “But cheeky!” She turned to me with a playful scowl. “Didn’t I tell you not to let him have his fun without a ring on your finger? And look where it got you.”
“I had fun too,” I pointed out, and she swatted me with a striped dish towel.
Chance was grinning, delighted with our exchange, which I assumed meant he had translated it correctly. He dropped a hot kiss on my smiling mouth. I tangled my fingers in his hair and forgot about Tia, until she splashed some water on us.
“Dios mio, you’re like a pair of shameless dogs. Out!”
“Wait! We need some protective charms,” I told her.
That appeased her sense of the proprieties. “Claro. With a baby on the way, it’s only prudent. I’ll get to work on them right away.”
Thus shooed from Tia’s kitchen, I went with Chance into the front room, where we killed two hours kissing and whispering. If I’d been watching us, I suspect I’d have hated every minute of it. But I didn’t move away until the bell rang. Chance went with me to answer it, hoping it was his mother. Min stood with a pile of bags at her feet, a taxi pulling away into the cool twilight. She went into her son’s arms in a puddle of tears; I retreated into the house so they could have some time alone. Their voices rose and fell in the courtyard garden, a lovely place for such a reunion. Better than a filthy warehouse, for sure. But it didn’t matter where Chance came back to us, only that he was here.
And he’s not going away again.
Slowly, surely, I was accepting this as truth. My life’s path had been rewritten, and I couldn’t wait to see where it led. Twila’s words rang in my head, and this time they sounded like a benediction: There are no destinies now. Life will be what you make of it, whatever you choose.
Half an hour later, Min accompanied Chance into the house; he hauled her bags into the living room, then looked bemused as to where to put them. An idea struck me, so I hurried into the kitchen to check with Tia.
“Chance’s mother is here. We don’t have room for her at the apartment, and I was wondering if you would mind if she took my room for a little while. I’ll cover room and board—”
“She’s family,” the old woman cut in. “You’re family. And you take care of me very well, mija. Of course your suegra can stay.”
Suegra meant mother-in-law in Spanish. Though Chance and I weren’t married, it was close enough to the truth that I just hugged Tia and thanked her. If I stepped on her pride, she would make my life difficult in countless ways. She squeezed me back, ending with a firm pat.
“You just keep giving me reasons not to die. I think I’ll stay another year. I want to see the baby.”