Goose in the Pond - Earlene Fowler [17]
“Amen, Brother Cleary,” I replied.
“You get in here,” Gabe said good-naturedly to Jim, then pointed at me. “And you beat it.”
It was one o’clock when I left the police station, and I decided to make a quick pit stop at home to use the bathroom and scrounge in the refrigerator for a bite to eat. Standing in front of the refrigerator, I was chugalugging a can of Coke and trying to remember just how old that enchilada from Pepe’s was when the doorbell rang. I tossed the aluminum tray in the sink, not entirely certain whether those green specks were peppers, and answered the door. I stared up into a darkly tanned, high-cheekboned male face wearing a dazzling smile that would have buckled my knees had I been fifteen years younger.
“Hi, Mom,” he said. “What’s for dinner?”
4
I WAS SPEECHLESS.
He tilted his head and lifted one dark brown eyebrow in question. His friendly, open expression reminded me of a sweet-natured Irish setter we’d had on the ranch when I was a girl. Reddie was a terrible ranch dog with the bad habits of sucking eggs and chasing calves, but he had a perpetually happy spirit that could make even the grumpiest ranch hand crack a smile.
“This is the Ortiz residence, isn’t it?” he asked, his smooth young face turning slightly worried. He scratched his cropped brown hair and looked down at the envelope in his hand. He flashed his brilliant smile again. “You’re Benni, aren’t you? I’m Sam Ortiz, your stepson.”
“Uh, yes,” I finally managed to say. My mind started darting in a million directions. Gabe’s son? Here? Now? This was all he needed. Aaron’s death, Nora’s murder, his errant son showing up on his doorstep. The bright yellow duffel bag sitting at his feet was huge, as if it contained all his worldly possessions. A surfboard in a lime-green nylon cover leaned against it. I glanced behind him. No vehicle except the Corvette in the driveway. How did he get here? How long did he plan to stay?
His eyes flicked over my shoulder into the house. “Can I come in?”
“Oh, yes, of course. Come on in. It’s great to finally meet you.” I held out my hand, and he enveloped it with a large cool hand that felt so much like Gabe’s it startled me.
We stood in the middle of the living room without speaking for a minute or so. My mind was still speeding a hundred miles an hour. Sam took my disorientation in stride and quietly inspected his surroundings while I tried subtly to study him. He was dressed in the loose, faded jeans common to his age group and a bright turquoise Hawaiian-patterned T-shirt that complemented his glowing burnt-sienna tan and muscled biceps. Gabe’s first wife, Lydia, was a full-blooded Mexican-American, and Sam had inherited her chocolate-colored eyes and a skin tone darker and more coppery brown than Gabe’s. He was taller than Gabe by an inch or so, and except for his well-developed arms, still had the slim boniness of a late-adolescent male. When he and his muscles matured, he was going to be a very striking, formidable-looking man. Like his father.
“Do I have mustard on my chin?” he finally asked, still smiling.
I shook my head and felt my neck turn warm. Apparently I’d been as subtle as a clown. “I’m sorry. You don’t look much like your pictures, and we weren’t really expecting you. . . .” I gave him an apologetic look. “I’m usually much better with surprises. It’s been a rough morning. Your dad’s going to be just thrilled—”
He interrupted me with a cheerful laugh. “Benni . . . can I call you that? I was kidding about the mom part. You’re way too young to be my mom.”
I smiled at his shameless compliment. He’d certainly learned better than his father that a little charm can go a long way in easing an awkward situation.
“I know my dad, Benni, and thrilled he won’t be. That’s okay. I’m his only kid, and he’s stuck with me.” He fiddled with the small gold hoop in one ear. I could already hear