Chapter 32
Two little dark-haired girls watched him worriedly from the kitchen door, holding on to each other tightly. They had never seen their big brother so sad, and it frightened them. "Paloma.Theresita," Pilar sighed as she walked past them. "You're supposed to be doing your chores." Paloma's brown eyes were drawn back to Luis. "Mama," she whispered. "Luis is crying." Pilar's own dark eyes threatened to fill with tears when she looked at her son's sad hunched form. A crumpled copy of the morning paper was in his clenched fists, and Pilar could barely make out Sheridan's smiling face. "Mama," Theresa's big brown eyes welled up as she spoke. "Did Sheridan really die?" "That's why Luis is so sad, isn't it?" Paloma pressed her for answers. Pilar knelt at her young daughters' feet, smiling sadly as Theresa's small arm looped around her shoulders and she rest her head on her shoulder. She squeezed Paloma's hand as she talked. "Your brother's heart is broken. He lost the girl he loved," she said softly. "Can we fix it, Mama?" Theresa asked innocently. "I don't know, Mija," Pilar murmured. "Why won't Sheridan's papa let Luis say goodbye?" Paloma questioned. Theresa's nose scrunched up, and her forehead wrinkled. "Because he's a meanie. That's why. A big fat meanie." "Luis loved her, too," Paloma said sadly. "Her papa should let him say goodbye." "I know!" Theresa jabbered excitedly. "Luis can sneak in and give her a kiss, and she'll wake up. Just like Sleeping Beauty."
"Theresa," Paloma frowned. "Don't be stupid. Luis will get in trouble if he does that." "Mija," Pilar explained gently. "A kiss won't wake Sheridan up." "I just thought.why not, Mama?" Theresa pouted. "Enough questions, Mija," Pilar had difficulty speaking over the lump lodged in her throat. "Go play with your brother." "But Mama," Theresa whined. "Miguel doesn't like to play make-up." "Theresita." "Okay," Theresa muttered disappointedly. "Paloma.make sure your sister and brother do not get into trouble." "I will, Mama," Paloma nodded her head dutifully. "But can I do something first?" Pilar saw the concern and sympathy in her daughter's eyes as she looked at her brother. "Don't take long," she told her as she tucked her dark hair behind her ear. She smiled as she watched Paloma cross the room and wind her arms around Luis's neck. Luis wrapped an affectionate arm around her waist and buried his nose in her soft hair. "I love you, Luis." "I love you, too," Luis managed a smile as he watched his sister walk out of the room.
"Mijo," Pilar sighed as she watched him smooth out the wrinkles in the paper, tracing Sheridan's image lovingly. "You mustn't do this to yourself. I know it hurts, but wallowing in pain is not going to bring her back. Nothing will. You have to learn how to accept the fact that she's gone." "I know that, Mama," he raised dull brown eyes to her. "I know that in my head, but my heart's telling me it isn't true. It doesn't feel like she's gone," he said earnestly as he placed his hand over his heart. "It doesn't feel like she's gone here," he choked out. Rising from his chair and searching for his jacket. "Mijo, where are you going? If Mr. Crane sees you, he'll have you arrested. You've been forbidden to." Luis's eyes shut briefly before he opened them again to look at her. "I can't let her go without saying goodbye. Please, Mama. Understand that." She stood up and straightened his collar before cupping his face in both her hands. "Be careful." "I will, Mama," Luis promised. His gait slow and heavy as he left her. "Please be careful, Mijo," she whispered. Clutching her rosary.
It didn't take him long to get to the church, fingers white-knuckled on the steering wheel and eyes ignoring the way the speedometer climbed steadily. He closed the door carefully behind him, careful not to draw attention to himself. It looked like hundreds of people had come to pay their respects. But only a handful truly knew and loved her, he thought. Swallowing hard at the thickness of his tongue. He darted behind a statue, keeping his head down, as people started milling out of the church, making their way to their cars. When he saw a familiar figure stride past out of the corner of his eye, his hand shot out to grasp her wrist. "Shh," he soothed. Letting Gwen's wrist drop from his hand. "I'm sorry about that, I just." She stopped his explanation by throwing her arms around his neck. "I knew you'd come no matter what that bastard inside said," she mumbled against his neck. "Luis, it was awful. The cas.it was closed, and nobody even got to say goodbye," she informed him. Pulling back with tearful brown eyes. Luis shook his head to clear it of the insane notion.Sheridan wasn't alive. Yet it didn't make sense. "Gwen. Gwendolyn Hotchkiss!" Gwen cringed when she heard her mother's voice. "I'm sorry, Luis, but I have to go before she." "It's okay," he assured her. "Coming, Mother," she called over her shoulder. "Luis, do you know where the Crane plots are? They're burying her beside her mother. You could." "Gwen!" Gwen shot an uneasy glance over her shoulder. "You go," he told her. "I'll find my way." "Bye!"
He watched from a distance as Father Lonagin prayed over the gravesite. The mourners had dwindled significantly since the service, and he could pick out Ivy's stately form even from several feet away. She was dressed completely in black, and Ethan stayed close by her side. Offering solace in a comforting arm about her waist. Father Lonagin closed his Bible, and Ivy lifted a snowy white handkerchief to dab the tears from her eyes. Luis's eyes were drawn to the movement of Julian as he knelt to clutch a fistful of dirt, and he closed his eyes as he heard the sound of dirt hitting wood. Alistair Crane towered over the open gravesite, his face emotionless, and Luis could swear he looked nothing but relieved as the rest of the family, including three younger children Luis assumed to be the rest of Julian and Ivy's progeny, said their goodbyes and tossed dirt into the grave. His hands clenched at his sides when he met the cold blue gaze, and he shuddered with the power of his hatred toward the man. The feeling, it was apparent, was entirely mutual. He waited for the old man's threat to be carried out, but it didn't come to pass. As the last of the mourners' cars started to crawl away, he found himself standing in front of the freshly dug grave.
"Julian," Ivy questioned when her husband went still, his dark eyes fixed on something she couldn't see. "Aren't you coming? The children are waiting." He cleared his throat before meeting her blue-green eyes. "I'll be along. There's something I need to do first." She surprised him by giving him a comforting pat on the hand, and he smiled grimly at her as he shut the limo door behind her. As soon as he found himself alone, his eyes wandered over the headstones lining the hillside, and his eyes lit on one in particular. Immediately recognizing the tall, dark figure of Luis Lopez- Fitzgerald. He turned away when Luis fell to his knees. His sobs of sadness overwhelming him. And murmured a promise. "I'm sorry Luis, but there wasn't any other way. Father won't get away with this. This time he's going to pay. And if you have to believe the biggest lie to do it.so be it," he sighed as he withdrew his cell phone from his heavy coat and punched in a seldom-used number. "It's over. I want you to get her out of Harmony.It's best if you don't tell me where.someplace safe.Don't contact me unless it's absolutely necessary.I'll contact you," he spoke into the phone before cutting the connection. His eyes traveled back to Luis's prone figure then drifted toward the winding road where the Crane limo had disappeared only moments ago. "Forgive me," he whispered. His words lost in the cold, wintery wind.
Two little dark-haired girls watched him worriedly from the kitchen door, holding on to each other tightly. They had never seen their big brother so sad, and it frightened them. "Paloma.Theresita," Pilar sighed as she walked past them. "You're supposed to be doing your chores." Paloma's brown eyes were drawn back to Luis. "Mama," she whispered. "Luis is crying." Pilar's own dark eyes threatened to fill with tears when she looked at her son's sad hunched form. A crumpled copy of the morning paper was in his clenched fists, and Pilar could barely make out Sheridan's smiling face. "Mama," Theresa's big brown eyes welled up as she spoke. "Did Sheridan really die?" "That's why Luis is so sad, isn't it?" Paloma pressed her for answers. Pilar knelt at her young daughters' feet, smiling sadly as Theresa's small arm looped around her shoulders and she rest her head on her shoulder. She squeezed Paloma's hand as she talked. "Your brother's heart is broken. He lost the girl he loved," she said softly. "Can we fix it, Mama?" Theresa asked innocently. "I don't know, Mija," Pilar murmured. "Why won't Sheridan's papa let Luis say goodbye?" Paloma questioned. Theresa's nose scrunched up, and her forehead wrinkled. "Because he's a meanie. That's why. A big fat meanie." "Luis loved her, too," Paloma said sadly. "Her papa should let him say goodbye." "I know!" Theresa jabbered excitedly. "Luis can sneak in and give her a kiss, and she'll wake up. Just like Sleeping Beauty."
"Theresa," Paloma frowned. "Don't be stupid. Luis will get in trouble if he does that." "Mija," Pilar explained gently. "A kiss won't wake Sheridan up." "I just thought.why not, Mama?" Theresa pouted. "Enough questions, Mija," Pilar had difficulty speaking over the lump lodged in her throat. "Go play with your brother." "But Mama," Theresa whined. "Miguel doesn't like to play make-up." "Theresita." "Okay," Theresa muttered disappointedly. "Paloma.make sure your sister and brother do not get into trouble." "I will, Mama," Paloma nodded her head dutifully. "But can I do something first?" Pilar saw the concern and sympathy in her daughter's eyes as she looked at her brother. "Don't take long," she told her as she tucked her dark hair behind her ear. She smiled as she watched Paloma cross the room and wind her arms around Luis's neck. Luis wrapped an affectionate arm around her waist and buried his nose in her soft hair. "I love you, Luis." "I love you, too," Luis managed a smile as he watched his sister walk out of the room.
"Mijo," Pilar sighed as she watched him smooth out the wrinkles in the paper, tracing Sheridan's image lovingly. "You mustn't do this to yourself. I know it hurts, but wallowing in pain is not going to bring her back. Nothing will. You have to learn how to accept the fact that she's gone." "I know that, Mama," he raised dull brown eyes to her. "I know that in my head, but my heart's telling me it isn't true. It doesn't feel like she's gone," he said earnestly as he placed his hand over his heart. "It doesn't feel like she's gone here," he choked out. Rising from his chair and searching for his jacket. "Mijo, where are you going? If Mr. Crane sees you, he'll have you arrested. You've been forbidden to." Luis's eyes shut briefly before he opened them again to look at her. "I can't let her go without saying goodbye. Please, Mama. Understand that." She stood up and straightened his collar before cupping his face in both her hands. "Be careful." "I will, Mama," Luis promised. His gait slow and heavy as he left her. "Please be careful, Mijo," she whispered. Clutching her rosary.
It didn't take him long to get to the church, fingers white-knuckled on the steering wheel and eyes ignoring the way the speedometer climbed steadily. He closed the door carefully behind him, careful not to draw attention to himself. It looked like hundreds of people had come to pay their respects. But only a handful truly knew and loved her, he thought. Swallowing hard at the thickness of his tongue. He darted behind a statue, keeping his head down, as people started milling out of the church, making their way to their cars. When he saw a familiar figure stride past out of the corner of his eye, his hand shot out to grasp her wrist. "Shh," he soothed. Letting Gwen's wrist drop from his hand. "I'm sorry about that, I just." She stopped his explanation by throwing her arms around his neck. "I knew you'd come no matter what that bastard inside said," she mumbled against his neck. "Luis, it was awful. The cas.it was closed, and nobody even got to say goodbye," she informed him. Pulling back with tearful brown eyes. Luis shook his head to clear it of the insane notion.Sheridan wasn't alive. Yet it didn't make sense. "Gwen. Gwendolyn Hotchkiss!" Gwen cringed when she heard her mother's voice. "I'm sorry, Luis, but I have to go before she." "It's okay," he assured her. "Coming, Mother," she called over her shoulder. "Luis, do you know where the Crane plots are? They're burying her beside her mother. You could." "Gwen!" Gwen shot an uneasy glance over her shoulder. "You go," he told her. "I'll find my way." "Bye!"
He watched from a distance as Father Lonagin prayed over the gravesite. The mourners had dwindled significantly since the service, and he could pick out Ivy's stately form even from several feet away. She was dressed completely in black, and Ethan stayed close by her side. Offering solace in a comforting arm about her waist. Father Lonagin closed his Bible, and Ivy lifted a snowy white handkerchief to dab the tears from her eyes. Luis's eyes were drawn to the movement of Julian as he knelt to clutch a fistful of dirt, and he closed his eyes as he heard the sound of dirt hitting wood. Alistair Crane towered over the open gravesite, his face emotionless, and Luis could swear he looked nothing but relieved as the rest of the family, including three younger children Luis assumed to be the rest of Julian and Ivy's progeny, said their goodbyes and tossed dirt into the grave. His hands clenched at his sides when he met the cold blue gaze, and he shuddered with the power of his hatred toward the man. The feeling, it was apparent, was entirely mutual. He waited for the old man's threat to be carried out, but it didn't come to pass. As the last of the mourners' cars started to crawl away, he found himself standing in front of the freshly dug grave.
"Julian," Ivy questioned when her husband went still, his dark eyes fixed on something she couldn't see. "Aren't you coming? The children are waiting." He cleared his throat before meeting her blue-green eyes. "I'll be along. There's something I need to do first." She surprised him by giving him a comforting pat on the hand, and he smiled grimly at her as he shut the limo door behind her. As soon as he found himself alone, his eyes wandered over the headstones lining the hillside, and his eyes lit on one in particular. Immediately recognizing the tall, dark figure of Luis Lopez- Fitzgerald. He turned away when Luis fell to his knees. His sobs of sadness overwhelming him. And murmured a promise. "I'm sorry Luis, but there wasn't any other way. Father won't get away with this. This time he's going to pay. And if you have to believe the biggest lie to do it.so be it," he sighed as he withdrew his cell phone from his heavy coat and punched in a seldom-used number. "It's over. I want you to get her out of Harmony.It's best if you don't tell me where.someplace safe.Don't contact me unless it's absolutely necessary.I'll contact you," he spoke into the phone before cutting the connection. His eyes traveled back to Luis's prone figure then drifted toward the winding road where the Crane limo had disappeared only moments ago. "Forgive me," he whispered. His words lost in the cold, wintery wind.