Page 66 of In a Far-Off Land
Before Max left, he told me to sit tight. “A couple days,” he said. “Think about it, Mina, a new life.” Then he smiled, just a flash in the moonlight, but it was the smile I loved. He dipped his head. The corner of his mouth brushed the corner of mine. It was almost a kiss.
I almost broke down.
Think about it, he’d said. I didn’t have to. By the time Max had disappeared into the moonless dark, I knew my answer. I wouldn’t let Max ruin his life for me. I was feeling pretty low by then, but the horrid part was that the night wasn’t over.
When I got back in the house, Oscar and Roman were at each other’s throats.
They were speaking Spanish—fast and furious—but from what I could make out Oscar was letting Roman have it for borrowing his auto to track down Max. Angel stood behind the table, his eyes big and worried. Sanchia twisted a towel in her hands, saying words I didn’t understand, but the look on her face was enough.
I stepped up, thinking maybe I could help. Boy, I should have known better. “It’s my fault, Oscar. I asked him to—”
He rounded on me so fast I faltered backwards. “Sí. It is your fault.”
Roman switched into English. “I’m not a child. I know how to—”
“Then stop acting like one,” Oscar bit out and put his hand in his hair. “You’ve been pushing me for days, ever since—” He looked at me. We all knew what he meant. Since I messed up their lives. I still was doing it, right now.
Oscar’s jaw worked as if he were summoning all his patience. His face was flushed and his words quiet in a way that made the back of my neck prickle. “You will stay at home or you go to work. No more going to Raul’s or the plaza or wherever it is you go—”
“You can’t tell me what to do.”
I thought Oscar’s face couldn’t get redder, but it did. A vein actually looked like it might burst on his forehead. “You will do as I say.”
Roman really should have stopped there. But he didn’t. “Or what? Will you beat me up like you did Max?” Oscar grabbed Roman by the collar and wrenched him up against the wall, but Roman didn’t stop. “Will you send me away, never speak my name—”
Oscar’s fist came out of nowhere. Roman took it hard on the mouth but didn’t go down. He came right back at Oscar like a bull with his horns down.
I think I cried out. Señora wailed. Then Angel was there, pushing between them, speaking words that somehow—thankfully—brought Oscar back to himself. He dropped Roman, who wiped a hand across his mouth, smearing blood over his chin. I might have seen tears in his eyes, but I couldn’t be certain. Roman pushed past Angel, past his stricken mother, and banged through the door without another word.
Oscar looked like he was going to be sick.
Angel spoke in Spanish to his mother and Oscar and then said to me quickly as he walked to the door, “I follow him, talk to him.”
Oscar sank down into a chair, his head in his hands. A wave of dizziness passed over me, my vision darkened, and I clutched for the back of the chair. I felt myself falling, then strong hands steadied me. When the blackness passed, I saw it had been Sanchia who had stopped my fall. She set me none too gently in the hard chair.
“I... I’m sorry.” My words dropped flat and useless into the silence. I hadn’t meant any harm, sure, but I’d brought it on them, nonetheless.
CHAPTER 8
OSCAR
Oscar woke up alone. No Angel. No Roman. Where had they slept last night?
His head pounded and his mouth tasted like the bottom of an ashtray. He rubbed a hand over his stinging eyes. He’d hit his own brother in anger. What was the matter with him? This was Max’s fault. If he hadn’t pushed that woman on him—put them all in danger—Oscar wouldn’t have been so hard on Roman. Max again.
He trudged up the stairs and nudged open the door to the bedroom. Minerva Sinclaire slept curled in a ball, as if she were protecting herself. Padre Ramirez said to show her mercy and kindness, to treat her like a sister. Had he done enough to fulfill his penance? Must he do more? How was he supposed to know?
Coffee. That’s what he needed. And then he had work to do for Brody. Maybe, if he could find a lead on who killed Lester, his obligation to Minerva Sinclaire would be fulfilled. And then he would track down Roman and tell him he was sorry.
Downstairs, he found Mamá at the table. Deep grooves etched each side of her mouth and pillows of skin sagged under her eyes. He sat down across from her, touching the tin cup in front of her. It was cold, like she’d been sitting there for hours. “Mamá,” he said softly. “I’ll find him. I’ll fix this.” He sounded surer than he felt.
She frowned and blinked, and a tear slipped from her eye.
Oscar covered her hand with his. She’d suffered so much already. Losing Papá, then her sister and Maria Carmen. And Max showing up last night. “He shouldn’t have come back.”
She looked up at him and her eyes were bright with tears. “Roman will come home. And you will tell him you are sorry.”
He nodded.
