A Greater Love Read online

  He matched her tone. “I guess I’ll take them to whoever’s in charge of orphans or whatever. Tomorrow I’ll call Claudia. She’ll know who’s over that area.”

  “But it’s a weekend.”

  “So?”

  “That means they won’t be processed until Monday. If then. With Christmas two weeks away, things will be slow. They’ll probably stay at some clinic or something. They won’t like it.”

  “They probably won’t like any place they’re put.” Even to him his voice sounded grim.

  “Maybe they could be adopted.”

  “We can’t fool ourselves. Miguel is already too old for anyone to want to adopt—I know I certainly wouldn’t want the problems he’d cause. And our orphanages have so much bureaucracy that by the time the red tape is finished, Sara will be too old as well.”

  “It could happen. They’re beautiful children.” A stubborn note echoed in the words. “Did you see Sara’s eyes? And Miguel, he’s special. I feel it. Can’t you give them a few more days? They deserve some reward for bringing your wallet back—they came from such a long way for two little kids. Don’t turn them in until Monday. At least then they won’t have to go through so many changes.”

  Daniel sat beside her, an idea forming in his mind. If he had time with her, maybe he could win her back. “I can’t do it, Cristina. I know nothing about children. I feel sorry for them. Really, I do. But they aren’t my problem.”

  She said something so soft he couldn’t make out the words.

  “What?”

  “I could help,” she said, louder this time.

  “You’d stay?” He reached out to touch her face, but she drew away.

  “On the couch. Just to help you with the children.” She arose, and Daniel stood with her.

  “Okay.” It was enough to have her near, to smell her perfume, to hear her voice. “But I’ll sleep here. You can take the bed.”

  “Thank you.” Unshed tears glimmered in her eyes.

  “Cristina?”

  “Yes?”

  “I really do love you.”

  Her eyes flicked to the divorce papers on the coffee table. “I know. I love you too.” With that, she left the room. For a long time Daniel did nothing but stare at the loathsome documents and wish he could turn back the clock.

  A shadow moved in the entryway, but when Daniel went to look, whoever it was had disappeared.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Oh, Miguel! It ain’t no dream!” Sara bounced on the soft bed, tumbling on top of him. Despite the pain it caused in his ribs where Carlos had hit him, Miguel laughed and tickled her stomach. Lucky jumped up from his comfortable place in the middle of the bed and bounded into the fray, growling.

  “Silly dog,” Miguel said, letting the puppy bite his fingers playfully.

  “It’s so warm and so pretty, and I ain’t never saw so many strange things before,” Sara bubbled on. “Is this how it was in the house we use to lived? That man is so nice. Just like his picture. And Cristina. Don’t ya wish she could be our mother?”

  Miguel’s smile dimmed. He patted the comfortable bulge his mother’s necklace and identity card made in his shirt pocket where he had pinned them both to avoid questions. “No, I don’t. Mamãe was special.”

  “I don’t mean to be her, I just mean to take care of us like Octávia did.” Her voice dropped. “I bet she wouldn’t slap ya or make ya steal.”

  He sat up and frowned. “It ain’t gonna happen, Sara. I heard ’em talkin’ last night after you was asleep. I snuck into the hall and listened. They said they was gonna take us to the orphanage come Monday.”

  Daniel’s words of the night before had pierced Miguel’s soul: “Miguel is already too old for anyone to want to adopt—I know I certainly wouldn’t want the problems he’d cause.”

  He knew the man was right, but it hurt all the same. Sara might have a chance to find a nice family, but it was too late for him. Good thing he didn’t need anyone but Sara.

  Sara’s face fell, and Miguel wished he hadn’t told her. “But can we stay till then? Please?”

  He nodded. “I guess so. But don’t tell ’em nothin’ ’bout where we come from.”

  “You told me that a million times. I ain’t stupid.”

  “I know, but sometimes you’re too trustin’. You don’t wanna go to the orphanage, do ya?”

  Sara sniffed. “Course not. But I don’t like to be cold either.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll find a place. Maybe I’ll slip away today to do some huntin’.”

  Sara’s eyes grew scared. “Don’t leave me here alone.”

  “Didn’t I say I’ll always take care of ya?” He made a funny face until she smiled again, bringing sun back into the room. “Let’s go see if they’re awake.”

  * * * * *

  Daniel slept fitfully on the couch and his neck was stiff and sore when he awoke. A child laughed. He opened his eyes to find Sara watching him. She smiled, and despite his lousy night, Daniel felt an odd contentment. “Bom dia.”

  “Good mornin’,” the girl returned the greeting. Her eyes focused on the entertainment center. “Wow.”

  “What? Haven’t you ever seen a television?”

  She shrugged. “Not on. Miguel has, though, at the mall. He told me. But I was lookin’ at your books. I ain’t never saw so many together. We had a book, ya know. A Bible. Miguel read from it sometimes ’bout Ma—I mean, angels.”

  “Miguel knows how to read?” Daniel asked, interested. That would show some sign of formal schooling.

  “He asked Octávia to teach him when we was little, but she got real mad and hit him with the lantern. That’s when he got cut on his face.”

  Daniel’s stomach twisted; he had noticed the jagged scar on Miguel’s jaw.

  “I think she got mad ’cause she didn’t know how to read herself,” Sara confided. “She never looked once at that Bible. It just sat there on the shelf. So Miguel taught himself. He’s real good at learnin’ stuff.” Her voice lowered. “But it’s strange. Sometimes he reads the same verse ’bout angels but from a different page. I guess the good Lord found us so stubborn, he had to say things over and over, so we’d pay attention.”

  Daniel smiled. That much at least was true. “What happened to the book?”

  “Them boys got it now, I think.”

  “The ones who hit Miguel?” Daniel guessed. Her head bobbed in agreement, but she still stared at the books. “What does your mother think about that?” he asked carefully.

  Her eyes turned away from the books and studied him. In those gold-flecked orbs he could see the same intelligence that shined from Miguel’s face. “Don’t know,” she replied after a long moment. “I just don’t know.”

  “What about Octávia?” If Daniel could learn who this woman was, it might go a long way toward finding out more about their circumstances. She must have been close to the children if Miguel had asked her to teach him to read.

  But Sara clenched her lips tight and would say no more, regardless how much Daniel probed. Finally, he suggested something to eat. A delicious smell wafted in from the entryway, making it difficult to concentrate on anything else. In the kitchen, they found Cristina humming as she prepared a feast for breakfast. Miguel stood near the stove with Lucky in his arms, watching, their eyes rarely leaving the food. Plastic sacks filled with groceries lined the counter top.

  “I went to the store this morning while you slept.” Cristina opened a cupboard to put a box away and frowned at a sack of coconut cookies perched in the corner. “Oh, yuck! Daniel, how many times have I told you to shut the bag? These cookies have bugs in them now. And when was the last time you cleaned the cupboard?”

  “Uh,” Daniel began. It hadn’t seemed important.

  “Miguel says bugs is a good sign,” Sara put in, reaching for the bag. “It means the food’s good. Can I have ’em?”

  Cristina’s face turned sour as she kept the cookies out of Sara’s reach. She met Daniel’s gaze with a ste
ady stare, a silent plea in her eyes. He looked away. “Smart boy, Miguel,” he said. “To some degree, he’s right.” He winked at the child. “In fact, those bugs might add a little protein.”

  “I’d like to see you eat some.” Cristina glared at him, her flushed face making her even more attractive. She crumpled the package of cookies and threw it into the short garbage can between the stove and the counter. “I’ll buy you new cookies today, Sara. I’ll not have anyone eating bugs in my house.”

  “Your house?” The night on the couch hadn’t added to Daniel’s humor. The apartment was his, according to the divorce papers, while she would keep their savings account.

  Cristina caught her breath and turned away from him. Daniel felt Miguel and Sara staring in consternation, though they couldn’t possibly understand the implications. Or could they?

  He rotated on his heel and strode from the kitchen, heading for his room and the adjoining private bathroom where he would take a hot shower. He saw that the double bed he and Cristina had once shared was neatly arranged, without a trace of her having slept there. He wanted to hug the pillow to his chest and see if it held her scent. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad agreeing to having a child—if only she would come back.

  He hit his fist against the wall, wincing at the pain. No! He couldn’t agree to give life to a child he didn’t want and wouldn’t love. Like the old saying, he had to be true to himself.

  A short time later, he found Cristina and the children readying to leave the apartment. Miguel and Sara wore the clothes Cristina had washed the night before and dried this morning by the electric heater. They had a line out the back window, of course, but clothes took forever to dry in this weather. Maybe he should buy a dryer. Many of his co-workers had them now.

  “We’re going out. Want to come?” Cristina asked.

  “Where are you going?”

  “We’re going to buy some clothes and a leash and collar for Lucky. Then we’ll go for a drive.”

  Cristina had on her determined look and Daniel knew it was useless to protest. “Okay,” he said. “I’d like to come.”

  His wife appeared surprised, but Sara slipped her small hand in his. “I knew you was gonna come,” she whispered.

  “What about Lucky?” asked Miguel

  “He can come, too,” Cristina said a little hesitantly. “He’ll have to stay in the car while we’re inside the store. I hope he doesn’t get carsick.”

  “He don’t,” Miguel insisted. “I took him on the bus before and he was fine.”

  They went to several stores, and soon Sara and Miguel were outfitted warmly and tastefully, from thick coats to the new leather shoes on their feet. Their old clothing disappeared into the waste bins of the various establishments.

  “Thank you. I ain’t never had a coat before,” Sara said politely. Miguel said nothing, but he stared at his new shoes for long moments.

  “I’ve never had a coat before,” Daniel corrected for what seemed the millionth time.

  “But ya got one on now,” Sara answered. Cristina hid a smile.

  Daniel felt more comfortable with the children now that they were dressed decently, and being with them made Daniel see the world in a new light—the car, the stores, clothes. Even ordinary things like a mirror took on a new dimension. While waiting for Cristina to finish paying for the new shoes, Sara squatted down and stared at herself in the short mirror near the register, making odd faces, and laughing. At her antics, Daniel’s own face seemed to form a permanent smile as if it had a will of its own.

  Cristina drove through the town, pointing out sights of interest. “There’s where I work,” she told the children. Her travel agency was located only a few blocks from his apartment, well within walking distance. Daniel wondered if her new apartment was as close.

  “What do ya do there?” asked Sara.

  “I help people buy tickets to visit other places.”

  “That sounds fun!”

  “It is. Mostly.”

  Sara and Cristina chattered on about a variety of topics, often drawing Daniel into the conversation. Miguel kept silent, though from his expression, he seemed happy enough. Only when the subject of his family was broached did his face shut down and his lower lip protrude with displeasure. His reaction was so severe that both Daniel and Cristina began to avoid all mention of his parents.

  “How about some lunch in one of these little restaurants?” Daniel suggested. “I’m starving.”

  “Can we bring somethin’ back for Lucky?” Sara asked.

  Cristina smiled. “Of course you can. He’s been a good dog. He deserves it. We’d better let him out first, though, to use the bathroom.”

  Near the end of their outing, Cristina drove to the dock where they kept their boat. Lucky scampered at their side as they walked along the strip of pavement that paralleled the water. Only one ship had left its berth and now headed for the open sea.

  “I’m gonna be a sailor one day.” Miguel’s eyes fixed hungrily on the lone ship.

  Daniel remembered well how powerfully the ocean had beckoned to him as a young man. “You know, the sea has long been an important part of Portugal’s history. Though many of us have turned to other professions, the sea is still in our blood and will always call to us. It reminds us of the heroic feats of our past, when Portugal sailed the oceans and discovered many new worlds.”

  “Heroic feats?” The boy cocked his head, listening intently. There was eagerness in his expression, a thirst for knowledge.

  “I’m sure you’ve learned about them in school.” But Daniel wondered if the children had ever been to school at all. Though the law demanded their attendance, that didn’t guarantee anything. “I was a sailor once,” Daniel said to cover the sudden silence.

  Miguel’s mouth opened slightly. “You was?”

  “Yes. After my mandatory time in the army, I went to college. I grew bored of studying and decided to try the sea. I worked on a shipping boat for a few years, one of the larger ones that were springing up at the time. Many fishermen still went out on small boats that held only one or two men, but that didn’t appeal to me. I liked the feel of the larger ships. It was a hard job, but satisfying. You make good friends.”

  “Why’d ya quit?” asked Sara.

  Because I saw too much pain, he thought. I became disillusioned. But mostly I stayed away because I saw a good man give up his life for a worthless fool. But, no, he couldn’t say those things to a child.

  “It was time,” he said. “I had to think of my career. I returned to school, got a job with the city, met Cristina . . .” Daniel shrugged. Miguel watched him intently, and Daniel had the feeling the child could see into his soul, that he glimpsed the terrible truth Daniel wanted to hide.

  “Miguel and me’s goin’ on a boat one day,” Sara said. “Not just a ferry, but a big one. We’re gonna sleep on it and everythin’.”

  “Miguel and I,” Daniel corrected.

  “Miguel and I,” Sara repeated. She coughed without covering her mouth.

  “Maybe we can—” Cristina began, but Daniel shook his head. He didn’t want to show the children his boat. It held too many sad memories, and they would be sure to ask questions that would bring back the pain of Manuel’s death. It was a good thing that on Monday Miguel and Sara would be removed from his life forever.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  Cristina blinked. “But—”

  “Sara’s sick. She shouldn’t be out here.”

  His wife didn’t look convinced, but Sara chose that moment to begin coughing again. “Sara, your cough doesn’t like this cold.” Cristina fastened the top button on the little girl’s new coat.

  “I ain’t likin’ it so much, either,” Sara said. “But Miguel and me is usta cold.”

  Daniel didn’t bother to correct her again.

  They led the reluctant children away from the boats and took them home for a generous dinner. Afterwards, he and Cristina sat on the couch in front of the television, with Sara be
tween them and Miguel sprawled on the floor gingerly, as if favoring his right side. Daniel resisted asking why, knowing his question would only threaten the boy. The children watched the show with an absorbed fascination he felt must be abnormal for children that age, no matter how interesting the film. Of course, he hadn’t been around children much, so his guess could be off.

  As Daniel pondered over the life they must have led and the problems they would yet have to brave, emotion stirred in his heart—pity? sorrow? compassion?—but he pushed it away. He couldn’t resolve the problems of the world. He couldn’t even resolve his and Cristina’s.

  “Why don’t ya got any kids?” Sara asked.

  Daniel wondered how she could be so cute when she asked such difficult questions. “I don’t want them to have to suffer,” he replied, looking at Cristina.

  Silence fell over the room, broken only by the sounds from the television. Everyone stared at Daniel, but Miguel’s gaze was particularly intense. At last he spoke. “I’m glad my Mamãe didn’t think that or we wouldn’t be here.” He patted Lucky absently. “It probably woulda been easier for her if we didn’t get born. It’s hard to take care of kids.” From the way he clamped his mouth shut and from how Sara gaped at him, Daniel knew Miguel must have broken his own rule.

  “Would you like to tell us about your mother?” Cristina asked. Miguel shook his head and focused stubbornly on the television.

  “I’m not much hard to take care of.” Sara turned a penetrating gaze to Daniel. “Is Miguel right? Is that why ya don’t got kids? ’Cause it’s too hard?”

  “I told you why.” Yet Daniel wondered if the child’s words held a grain of truth. Awkward silence dominated the small room.

  After the movie was over, they walked the children into their room. When Daniel tucked Sara into bed, her arms went up around his neck, and she kissed him on either cheek in the Portuguese custom.

  “I still like you,” she whispered. “That’s okay if ya don’t want kids.” He felt her acceptance, her unconditional love—the two things he wanted most from his wife. He returned Sara’s hug.