A few minutes later, she pulled up outside of a small one-story home with two cars parked in front of it. A white minivan… and a restored Bronco. What were the chances of two pristine Brittany blue Broncos in this area with the same license plate? I wondered as Clara pulled up alongside the van.
“What’s Mr. Rhodes doing here?” Jackie confirmed what I’d processed. “Where is Uncle Carlos’s car?”
“I don’t know…” Clara trailed off with a frown.
I undid my seat belt just as my phone beeped with a message.
It was my aunt.
Aunt Carolina: Are there coyotes in the area?
I hesitated for a second. That didn’t sound like the kind of question I should answer. I didn’t need her worrying about coyotes too.
Slipping out of the car, I followed after Jackie and Clara as they headed to the front door. The house was small and older than most in town. The floor was tiled with foot-sized pieces that were either dark brown or green, and the furniture was mostly all antiques. It was just about exactly how I’d remembered it. I used to spend the night here every other weekend. I had a lot of good memories in this house.
“Dad!” Clara yelled. “Where are you?”
“In the living room!” a deep voice hollered back.
“You got pants on?”
I grinned.
“Guess!”
That made me laugh.
Clara turned sharply to the left into a small living room. The first thing I noticed was a flat screen propped on an entertainment table, thirty-something inches wide. The second thing I noticed was the man sitting on a big, comfortable recliner facing the TV. His hair was a mix of gray and white and braided down one shoulder, and on a love seat beside him was my landlord, arms crossed. A football game played on the television.
Clara and Jackie hurried over, kissing both his cheeks. “We brought Aurora, Daddy.”
The man’s dark eyes moved, then landed on me, and in the time it took me to blink, they had gone wide.
I ignored Mr. Rhodes and hurried over, ducking down and kissing Clara’s dad’s cheek. “Hi, Mr. Nez. Pants are overrated, huh?”
His big, sudden laugh caught me off guard as he leaned forward and brushed his cheek against mine, two brown hands that looked like leather, landing on my own and squeezing. He pulled back and blinked up at me with his big, dark eyes. “Aurora De La Torre. How the hell are you doing, child?”
His laugh was just the same. Face more lined, and he was much skinnier. But Mr. Nez was still the exact same in every other way that mattered. The sparkle in his eye told me so, even if the trembling in his hands tried to tell a different story.
I stayed where I was right in front of him. “I’m pretty good. How are you?”
“Damn fine.” He shook his head and aimed a smile at me that showed he was missing two teeth. He was a handsome man with his dark skin, the whites of his eyes nearly brilliant against his striking face. “Clara said you’d come back, and I couldn’t believe it.” He gestured toward the seat closest to him, which was the empty spot on the love seat between him and Mr. Rhodes. “Come here, sit down. But first.” He gestured toward Rhodes. “Aurora, Tobias. Tobias, this is Aurora. She used to live in my house every weekend and every summer.”
I couldn’t help but laugh as I glanced at the man I’d just spent time with last night. I smiled at him. “I know him, Mr. Nez.”
Mr. Rhodes, on the other hand, grunted.
Mr. Nez frowned. “How?”
“She’s renting his garage apartment.” It was Clara who answered. “Where’s Carlos?”
The old man ignored her question, chuckled and slapped his thigh. “You don’t say. You’re the one who took Amos to the hospital?”
“That was me,” I confirmed, peeking at Mr. Rhodes who was still sitting there with his arms crossed on the love seat… watching me with a really funny expression on his face that made me feel less welcome here than even at his garage apartment.
“You look so much like your mom,” the older man said, pulling my attention back toward him. His forehead scrunched, and the surprised expression that had been on his face melted into a troubled one. “I told myself I wouldn’t bring it up the first time I saw you, but I have to say—”
I cut him off. “You don’t have to say anything.”
“No, I do,” Mr. Nez insisted, looking more and more upset by the second. “I’ve been living with this guilt for twenty years. I’m sorry we all lost touch. I’m sorry we didn’t see you again after they took you away.”