Oscar had sent Max away with a wish of good luck and a twist of guilt. What was he supposed to do? The last thing he wanted was to get involved in another of Max’s melodramas. And didn’t he have enough of his own problems?
That night, after his brothers settled on their pallets and Mamá set to her prayers, he had gone out to his place under the tree. He lit one of his last cigarettes and breathed the smoke into the nightair.
That was when Lupita disturbed his peace. They hadn’t spoken of the kiss, and he didn’t want to, but it was there between them each time he saw her.
Her hair was unbraided and gleamed like a dark waterfall over her shoulders. “I heard Max came to you, looking for Mina.”
Mina. Still tormenting him. “She’s not our problem anymore.”
Lupita fixed her dark eyes on him, her brows raised.
He let out a long breath. “Say it.” She would anyway, he knew.
“Max needs to find her, talk to her.”
“Why?” Oscar had the sinking feeling he wasn’t going to like the answer.
“It’s...” Lupita looked over her shoulder to the house. “She made your mother swear on her rosary not to tell anyone.”
“Madre swore on her rosary? Did you swear also?”
“I...” Lupita looked at her bare feet, then back up at him. “I promised her I wouldn’t tell.” She chewed on her lip. “But not on the rosary.”
Then she told him.
“Ay, caramba!”Oscar stiffened, stalked a few steps toward the house, then back to Lupita, his temper flaring red hot. “Why can’t these people wait until they are married?” If Max were here, he’d give him a good smack on the head. And Mina! Hadn’t he justgotten out of a mess caused by Minerva Sinclaire being in bed with the wrong person? “How do you even know it’s his child?”
“I just do.” Lupita’s mouth went into that line he’d seen much of lately.
“Then he can fix his own mistakes.”
“Oscar Dominguez!” She stamped her foot. “When will you know that not everyone is as perfect as you?”
Oscar leaned back as if she’d slapped him. “I never said I was perfect.”
She tossed her head, her dark hair falling like a curtain across her shoulder. “But you expect everyone else to be. Max. Mina. Even Maria Carmen. And when they are not, you say, ‘They deserve what they get’?” She imitated his voice in a way that he didn’t like at all. “You have no mercy in you, Oscar.”
How could she say that? Hadn’t he been the one to find the diary, to clear Mina’s name? His fingers burned. He threw down the cigarette stub and ground it out with his foot. What in heaven had gotten into Lupita? “So you are saying I should tell Max?”
“Wouldn’t you want to know, if you were in his place?”
“But I’d never—” Too late, he realized his mistake. Lupita threw up her hands and said a word he didn’t think she knew. Then she turned on her heel and stomped back to her house.
That had been yesterday, and he still didn’t know what to do. Oscar didn’t pour himself the tequila. He needed to think straight.
He’d been wrong about Max. About a lot of things. Max hadn’t deserted them. And he’d tried to protect Maria Carmen. Oscar’s gaze drifted over the men in thesociedades, stopping on Raul, who’d tormented Max when they were children. Max had suffered here. Illegitimate. Halfgringo. He wouldn’t want his child to suffer the same fate—of that Oscar was certain. If Lupita was right about thebaby, Minerva Sinclaire needed the father of her child. And didn’t Max deserve to know? Of course, he’d want to find her, and he’d want Oscar to help him. Just when he’d thought he was done with both of them.
Max didn’t deserve his help, but he had a feeling he was going to give it to him anyway. Is that what Padre meant about mercy? Did that mean he’d finally forgiven Max? Would this penance of his never end?Dios, help me do what is right.
Max didn’t answer the door at the Garden of Allah. Oscar pushed it open and stepped in. The one-eared cat came running and twined around his legs, making noises that sounded a lot like complaints. He found Max asleep on the only furniture left in the bungalow, a narrow bed in a room that smelled like a distillery. An empty gin bottle and an overturned glass sat on the floor beside him.
Max mumbled a curse in Spanish when Oscar shook him.
Oscar cursed him back and heaved him to his feet. “You’re heavier than you look,hermano.” He half carried him to the washroom and dumped him into the deep bathtub, clothes and all, then turned on the cold water and left him there.
Max stumbled into the kitchen half an hour later wearing clean clothes and a hangdog scowl. The ugly cat settled on his lap and he rubbed her between her ragged ears. “At least one woman in my life hasn’t left me.”
Oscar had coffee percolating and was sniffing the milk bottle. He poured it down the drain and gave Max his coffee black. Max groaned.
