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Authors: Cheryl Wyatt
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to him. “Javier, you mind?” Manny eyed the box then the lady.
Without hesitation, Javier set his basketball down on the floor and picked up the box from the table. “Your car unlocked, lady?”
“Ma’am,” Manny corrected.
Javier grinned sheepishly and eyed her through a curtain of black, stringy hair. “Ma’am?”
“Yes.” She smiled and studied Javier above her bifocals. “You’re late Police Chief Munez’s boy.”
Javier’s smile faded, then returned slowly. “Yeah, I am.”
“Nice boy, that Joseph. I remember him at your age. He played basketball, too. Broke my favorite lamp when he was about your age, in fact.” She lifted a sweater-clad arm from stooped shoulders and pointed a gnarled, arthritic finger at the bay window. “Right down there in the shelter. Only it was my home then. Hordes of kids played in the yard. It had the only basketball court around.”
Javier tucked the box under his armpit. “What was my dad doing there?”
She laughed. “Which time? He practically lived there once.” Her age-sunken eyes twinkled with spunk and humor that defied her years. Manny bet she’d turned quite a few heads in her day.
Javier leaned against the stair banister. “Really?”
“Really. It’s where he met your mom.”
“Mom?” Javier stood straighter, clutched the box tighter.
“Yes. She was one of the first runaways we took in when we opened the place. I guess I can say I knew you when you were only a twinkle in your mom and dad’s eyes.”
“I guess.” Javier stared out the huge bay window that boasted a padded burgundy seat fit for an army. To Manny, Javier looked confused. The woman didn’t seem to pick up on that.
“Javier, how ’bout a game of horse after you finish loading this nice woman’s box?” Manny distributed his weight onto his good leg and tapped the basketball with the tip of his crutch.
Javier eyed Manny’s bum leg. “You kidding me?”
“No way.” Manny grinned. “You have to use my chair, though.”
Javier laughed and headed out the door with the box. When Manny could get him alone, he’d let the kid soak in what he’d learned about his mom. Then he’d offer to lend an ear if Javier needed to talk about it. Because if he’d read Javier’s expressions right, Celia hadn’t ever told him she was a runaway.
Manny needed to talk with her about it, give her a head’s-up that Javier knew. Hopefully that would prevent a wedge from forming between her and Javier over it.
Chapter Six
“I think you should have told him.” Manny folded his arms across his chest and faced Celia in her front yard. He leaned on the camouflage medical scooter his team had pitched in and bought for him. When Manny had seen her leave in her car with Javier then return without him, he’d jumped on the scooter and the opportunity to talk to her about what the shelter lady had shared with Javier prior.
“I think you should mind your own business,” Celia countered, folding arms across her chest, too. For someone so short, she could glare inches off a person.
Okay, so this wasn’t going as well as he’d hoped.
Manny relaxed his stance. “I’m just trying to warn you that he’s very angry.”
Her arms flew out and he actually tensed.
Since her eyes were practically rolled back in her head, she must not have noticed his flinch.
“How is it that everyone knows my son better than I do? Worse, act like they know better than me what’s best for him?” She planted firm fists on hips.
Perfectly rounded hips like he preferred. He thought all women should carry more meat on their bones than the airbrushed models on magazine covers. Why did women bother to buy those things when all they did was complain how much fatter they were than the cover models? He didn’t understand women sometimes.
Unlike most he’d met, Celia seemed comfortable in her own skin even if she wouldn’t be what Hollywood considered thin. Vertically challenged like himself, she didn’t stand
Without hesitation, Javier set his basketball down on the floor and picked up the box from the table. “Your car unlocked, lady?”
“Ma’am,” Manny corrected.
Javier grinned sheepishly and eyed her through a curtain of black, stringy hair. “Ma’am?”
“Yes.” She smiled and studied Javier above her bifocals. “You’re late Police Chief Munez’s boy.”
Javier’s smile faded, then returned slowly. “Yeah, I am.”
“Nice boy, that Joseph. I remember him at your age. He played basketball, too. Broke my favorite lamp when he was about your age, in fact.” She lifted a sweater-clad arm from stooped shoulders and pointed a gnarled, arthritic finger at the bay window. “Right down there in the shelter. Only it was my home then. Hordes of kids played in the yard. It had the only basketball court around.”
Javier tucked the box under his armpit. “What was my dad doing there?”
She laughed. “Which time? He practically lived there once.” Her age-sunken eyes twinkled with spunk and humor that defied her years. Manny bet she’d turned quite a few heads in her day.
Javier leaned against the stair banister. “Really?”
“Really. It’s where he met your mom.”
“Mom?” Javier stood straighter, clutched the box tighter.
“Yes. She was one of the first runaways we took in when we opened the place. I guess I can say I knew you when you were only a twinkle in your mom and dad’s eyes.”
“I guess.” Javier stared out the huge bay window that boasted a padded burgundy seat fit for an army. To Manny, Javier looked confused. The woman didn’t seem to pick up on that.
“Javier, how ’bout a game of horse after you finish loading this nice woman’s box?” Manny distributed his weight onto his good leg and tapped the basketball with the tip of his crutch.
Javier eyed Manny’s bum leg. “You kidding me?”
“No way.” Manny grinned. “You have to use my chair, though.”
Javier laughed and headed out the door with the box. When Manny could get him alone, he’d let the kid soak in what he’d learned about his mom. Then he’d offer to lend an ear if Javier needed to talk about it. Because if he’d read Javier’s expressions right, Celia hadn’t ever told him she was a runaway.
Manny needed to talk with her about it, give her a head’s-up that Javier knew. Hopefully that would prevent a wedge from forming between her and Javier over it.
Chapter Six
“I think you should have told him.” Manny folded his arms across his chest and faced Celia in her front yard. He leaned on the camouflage medical scooter his team had pitched in and bought for him. When Manny had seen her leave in her car with Javier then return without him, he’d jumped on the scooter and the opportunity to talk to her about what the shelter lady had shared with Javier prior.
“I think you should mind your own business,” Celia countered, folding arms across her chest, too. For someone so short, she could glare inches off a person.
Okay, so this wasn’t going as well as he’d hoped.
Manny relaxed his stance. “I’m just trying to warn you that he’s very angry.”
Her arms flew out and he actually tensed.
Since her eyes were practically rolled back in her head, she must not have noticed his flinch.
“How is it that everyone knows my son better than I do? Worse, act like they know better than me what’s best for him?” She planted firm fists on hips.
Perfectly rounded hips like he preferred. He thought all women should carry more meat on their bones than the airbrushed models on magazine covers. Why did women bother to buy those things when all they did was complain how much fatter they were than the cover models? He didn’t understand women sometimes.
Unlike most he’d met, Celia seemed comfortable in her own skin even if she wouldn’t be what Hollywood considered thin. Vertically challenged like himself, she didn’t stand
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