Chapter Twenty

Lyle followed Umberto’s tracks all the way to Fernando and Veronica’s house, parking his snowmobile beside Umberto’s in the driveway.  There was a gas can under the carport so Lyle filled his and then checked Umberto’s, filling it as well when he found that it hadn’t been done.  For a moment he considered just leaving the keys on the front porch and walking the distance back to Maricruz’s place to avoid seeing all of her family for the first time since that terrible night at the restaurant.  But not only was he too tired to walk any farther but he knew he’d have to see them eventually, probably later that same day, so he decided to just go ahead and do the difficult thing by ringing the doorbell, and hoping that they believed in forgiveness as much as their church said they did. 

As the doorknob turned, Lyle expected to see Maricruz’s mother, Veronica, on the other side of the door, her deep black hair with streaks of grey all pulled back in a braid, her bronze face adorned with enormous gold hoop earrings.  She was always sharply dressed, at least whenever Lyle saw her.  She definitely looked her age, just over sixty.  She wasn’t the kind of woman that would fool you into thinking she was younger.  Lyle had always thought her to be quite stunning, though, but in a kind of way that you have to earn, not the kind that you can pay for.  Would she be happy to see him?  Would she even open the door?  To Lyle’s surprise, the door flew open and Lyle almost lost his breath when he saw that it was Benny, his little pal Abenicio, who looked at Lyle’s fur covered face and asked him unsure, “Lyle?  Is that you?  Lyle!”  The boy turned his head back into the house and yelled, “Grandma, it’s Lyle!”  Benny gave Lyle an exuberant hug and, with his voice muffled by his face being buried in Lyle’s coat, asked him, “Where’s mom?  Is she okay?”

As Lyle began to answer, Veronica joined Benny in the doorway.  “Your mom’s just fine,” Lyle told Benny.  “She’s at your apartment.  She’s taking care of a new friend who needs some help.”  Benny seemed to accept that answer even if he was a little disappointed that Maricruz was not with Lyle.

Veronica quickly put Lyle’s fears to rest when she said, “You’re in luck, Lyle.  The power just came on about fifteen minutes ago.  Why don’t you come in and I’ll make you some breakfast?”

“Oh, I appreciate the offer,” Lyle responded, knowing that usually it was bad form to refuse such an offer of hospitality.  “But Maricruz has promised to make me some of her famous French toast when I get back to her place.  I wouldn’t want to miss out on that.”

Veronica smiled and nodded.  “No you wouldn’t want to miss out on that.  Well, please come in anyway for a bit and tell me more about this new friend you just mentioned.”

Lyle walked into the house with his arm around Benny, and Veronica instructed Lyle to take off his coat, coveralls, and boots and to leave them in the foyer.  After he’d done that, Lyle walked into the living room and said a quick and awkward hello to two of Maricruz’s older brothers, Jorge and Miguel, who responded with indifference. 

“Benny, go finish your cereal sweetie,” Veronica said, rubbing her hand through her grandson’s chocolate tinted hair, which was already sticking up in several different directions after a night of sleep.  Benny ran off and Veronica looked at Lyle, shaking her head.  “These kids have a grandma right here who can cook anything they could dream of and all they want is sugary cereal.  Kids these days.”  She sighed.  “Come now, and tell me about this person.”

Lyle recounted a great deal of the night’s events to Veronica while they both sat at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee.  When she heard of what Amanda had been through, her eyes welled up with tears and she stared out the window as though she couldn’t even risk seeing the words come out of Lyle’s mouth.  “You have to tell this to the police,” she told him.  Lyle assured her that he would.  “Do you think she’ll get in trouble for stealing the car?” she asked.  “I mean, what else was she supposed to do?”

“In a few hours after we’re all cleaned up and fed,” Lyle answered, “and maybe after a little rest, we’re going to sit down and figure out what the best thing to do is.  I need to call my sponsor Rick to see if he knows a good lawyer and maybe if one of the other teachers at the community college might be able to help with some counseling or something.  I don’t really know what’s going to happen to Amanda.  It makes me sick to even think about it.”

Veronica placed her hand on top of Lyle’s as she had surely done hundreds of times before to others as the mother and grandmother of so many.  She patted his hand as she said, “It just breaks my heart.  Breaks my heart.  That poor poor girl.  Fernando and I will do whatever we can to help and, you know, Father Carl may be of some help too.  Sometimes he has to go to court with parishioners.  Maybe if your sponsor doesn’t know anyone, perhaps Father Carl might or maybe he could talk to the man whose car it was.  You know, explain the situation to him.  Plus, the Police Chief in town, Chief Schmidt, is a member of our parish.  Father Carl might be able to grease the wheels a little.  I think you should have Maricruz call him later and get him involved.”

They talked for a little while longer about the possibilities for Amanda as well as about the difficulty of the last ninety days and even a bit about the future between Lyle and Maricruz.  Veronica asked about Savannah and Lyle told her that he’d sent several letters during the past three months and had even received a few drawings from her.  He couldn’t tell what they were supposed to be but they were very colorful and they meant the world to him.  Finally, Lyle got up the nerve to say what had been swimming just beneath the surface of their conversation the entire time.  “Veronica,” he said, looking intently into her eyes.  “I know that I wrote you a letter as a part of step nine, making amends, but I need to say it in person.  I am so terribly sorry for what happened that night in the restaurant and for how I banged on Maricruz’s door and scared Benny and for how I made such a mess out of everything.  I even screwed up trying to get back here to be with Maricruz and Benny, about got myself killed in the process.  I hope you can forgive me.”

“Lyle, I knew that wasn’t you doing it,” she comforted him.  “I knew you had the sickness.  Maricruz had told me and she was really concerned about it.  I knew that night that it was in control of you.  However, Mari was very hurt.  I’m not going to pretend she wasn’t.  And Benny was just confused.  He couldn’t understand why you were acting that way and why he couldn’t see you for so long.  As for Fernando and my boys, they wanted you gone from Mari’s life, gone from all of our lives, and they were very vocal about that.  Nothing I said could convince them otherwise.  But over time I think Fernando saw how much Maricruz missed you and how hard she prayed for you.  She would bring some of your letters to us—not the real personal ones—to try to prove to her father that you were changing.  He saw how excited Benny got at the thought of you coming back into his life.  Fernando is the best grandfather in the world to Benny, but there’s no hiding the fact that that boy wants a father, needs a father.  Eventually Fernando’s heart started to thaw a little.  Finally, my mother—you know Abuelita—she hobbled up to Fernando with her walker with the tennis balls on the bottom of its back legs.  He was sitting in his recliner watching The Cosby Show and she handed him a prayer card that she had ordered from her catalog.  On one side it had a painting of Christ on the cross.  On the other side it said simply, ‘Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.’  Then without saying a word she made her way slowly back to her bedroom and never mentioned it again.  After that he told the boys to cool it and regardless of how they actually feel, they did as their father said.  I hope Umberto wasn’t rude to you this morning.”

“Umberto was fine,” Lyle told her, not wanting to tattle on him for making the same threat that Lyle would make if he himself were in Umberto’s shoes.  “Where is Umberto anyway?”

Veronica rolled her eyes.  “He came in very upset about ten minutes before you did.  He’s been in his room ever since.  I’m assuming his father unloaded on him.”

Lyle nodded.  “It wasn’t pretty.  You want me to go talk to him?”

“Thank you, Lyle,” Veronica answered.  “But you’re not the one who needs to talk to him.  Fernando can be downright ruthless with Umby.  Umberto’s just trying to find himself and his father doesn’t understand that.  Fernando never had to find himself.  Never got to find himself might be the better way to put it.  His father died when he was so young that Fernando just had to be the man of the house from a very young age.  Fernando would rather Umberto just do what everyone else in the family is doing: work at the restaurant.  He doesn’t get why Umberto is so interested in exercise and nutrition.  I think Fernando may even think that if everyone actually listened to Umberto then nobody would ever eat at Los Tres Hermanos.  Chimichangas and sopapillas aren’t exactly health food, you know!”  Veronica and Lyle laughed until Benny came into the kitchen.

“Can we go yet?” he asked Lyle, who realized in that moment that he hadn’t really figured out exactly how they were actually going to get back to the apartment.  With a foot of snow on the roads there was no way any vehicle other than a snowmobile was going anywhere unless the plows came by.

“How about this,” Veronica suggested.  “If this Amanda girl has been through all you say she has, then I think it’s not a bad idea for her to have some time to get settled in at Mari’s place without you two guys there.  I’ll call Mari and tell her that I’ll give you a little something to eat to hold you over and while we’re waiting to see if the plow comes through or if someone’s going to have to give you a ride back downtown on the snowmobiles, there’s something you really need to do Lyle.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“I don’t mean to offend you, Lyle,” she said, holding back a giggle.  “I know this is the first time I’ve seen you in ninety days, but you need to know that you smell like a combination of a wet dog and a camp fire, and you look like some kind of werewolf with that beard.  I’m sure Maricruz was ecstatic to see you this morning but you cannot walk into her apartment looking and smelling like that if you expect her to let you anywhere near her.  You need to surprise her by shaving, showering, and letting me wash those disgusting clothes.”

Lyle thought about it for a moment.  He really wanted to get back to Maricruz’s place soon but Veronica was right.  Amanda probably did need some time alone and the thought of he and Benny having to catch a ride downtown with Jorge and Miguel on the snowmobiles didn’t sound too appealing.  “Okay,” he said, “if you’ll give me a thick slice of that banana bread over there with some butter on it, then it’s a deal.”  He turned to Benny.  “Hey, buddy, it’s going to be a little while before we can go to your place with all the snow, okay?”  Benny looked disappointed.  “But I’ll let you help me shave my Chewbacca beard if you want to.”  Contrary to what Lyle had expected, Benny’s expression changed from disappointed to grossed out, just before he ran off to play Nintendo with his cousins.

After Veronica gave Lyle a massive, warm, and buttery slice of banana bread, she dug through the junk drawer and found an old pair of scissors for him to use on his beard.  She excused herself to find him a razor and a clean towel.  When she came back she said, “Use the master bathroom.  Throw your clothes out in the hallway as soon as you get in there and just wrap up with a towel.  I need to get the laundry started as soon as possible.  Also, if you want to, you can use the phone in our bedroom to call your sponsor.  Lock the door to make sure no one walks in on you.  There’s about fifteen of us around here right now sharing two bathrooms.”

Lyle finished his banana bread, savoring every bite and fantasizing about the French toast he’d eat eventually.  He went into the master bedroom, peeled off his flannel shirt, t-shirt, jeans, belt, underwear, and socks, recognizing that Veronica was pretty close when she described his odor as a mix between a wet dog and a camp fire.  He wrapped the towel around himself, cracked the door just enough to toss the clothes out into the hallway, and then closed it and pushed the button on the doorknob to lock the door. 

Doing his best to hold the towel around his waist, Lyle wound up his leather belt with the old rodeo buckle on it and placed it at the foot of the bed, then went to the double sink where he paused to study himself in the mirror.  He placed his green ninety day coin that he’d pulled out of his jeans pocket on the counter, wanting to keep it close.  The man staring back at him looked the same on the outside, but he hoped, prayed, he’d genuinely changed within.  He had the same worn and rugged countenance that branded him as a man who’d logged not just hours, days, or weeks, but years in the saddle, nearly two decades of slipping his boots on well before dawn and not pulling them off again until well after sundown.  The beard was the same beard he’d grown every winter since his whiskers would grow, but it did have quite a bit of gray in it now.  The scars were the same too—the tiny circles on his forearms where his drunken father used to press in the still lit cherries of his cigarettes as punishment for everything from leaving his toys out in the living room to forgetting to feed the chickens, the gash between two of his right ribs where he’d been stabbed by a bull rider in San Angelo, Texas who caught Lyle in the cab of the man’s own pickup with the cowboy’s fiancé, and what looked like a slightly lighter version of permanent road rash diagonally across his abdomen from when he’d been so drunk that he’d opened the passenger door of his friend’s dually pick up and rolled out while the truck was going about forty on a gravel road.  Those scars and the many others were like a living map of every screw up Lyle had made in his life, a map he had to unfold every time he saw himself in the mirror. 

Lyle placed his hands on the countertop and leaned in close so he could see the reflection of the swollen crimson veins in his eyes.  Was he kidding himself?  Had the man carrying all these reminders of his own flaws etched into his skin really changed?  Could he really stay dry?  Could he be the man Maricruz deserved and the father Veronica said Benny needs?  Would he actually follow through to go see Savannah?  Was there anything he could actually do to keep his promise to Amanda?  Should he just save everyone the heartache and just give up now before anyone gets hurt even worse?  He pulled away from the mirror and stood up straight.  He picked up his coin and rubbed the words of the Serenity Prayer with the ridges of his fingerprints.  Breathe out emptiness.  Breathe in fullness.

Finally, he picked up the pair of scissors, grabbed a clump of hair from his beard and started cutting until the sink had nearly filled with hair that he then moved to the trashcan.  After wetting his face, he rubbed shaving cream onto his cheeks and neck.  With each stroke of the razor his face became smooth and new.  He splashed hot water onto his face again and again and then looked at himself in the mirror one more time.  He certainly looked better, more like someone who could actually pull his life together.  But could he really do it?  “Well,” he thought.  “There’s only one way to find out.”