Adverse Events, page 21
He followed Kate up the aisle and down the gangway into the terminal. Since they didn’t have to wait for their bags, they were near the front of the line snaking through customs. While they waited, Kate set her bag down and pulled her hair into a ponytail.
“Feels just like home,” she said, fanning herself with her passport.
He laughed. “I guess I should have warned you. But hey, we’re used to it, right?”
“Yeah, just not usually inside,” she said ruefully.
“Aw, it’s not that bad. Think of it as part of the adventure.”
“Speaking of adventure, I wish I could get my passport stamped,” Kate said, flipping through the book’s crisp, empty pages.
Peter glanced at his own, dog-eared version, its pages almost full. Every stamp told a story.
“Well, it won’t exactly be a secret once you write your bombshell exposé,” he said. “There’s no reason not to get one.”
Kate shot him a mischievous look. “True. I guess there’s no going back now, come what may.”
Once through customs they threaded their way past shops selling cigars and tall bottles of rum. When they reached the front of the terminal, Peter slowed, scanning the crowd milling around. He saw Elian just as the older man spotted them.
“Peter!” he cried in a deep, slightly raspy voice as he hurried over.
For a moment, Peter forgot Kate and the reason for their visit. He felt like the wide-eyed, tenderhearted teenager he’d been the last time he visited Cuba. Full of hope and dreams for what he could do as part of a community of difference-makers that spanned the globe. Everywhere he went felt like a small piece of home. He hadn’t realized until now how much he missed that connection. He opened his arms wide and threw them around his old friend.
“Elian, it’s so good to see you,” he said, not even bothering to hide the emotion that choked his voice.
After a few long moments, he pulled out of the older man’s embrace and smiled at him. Elian held his gaze for a few more moments, and Peter thought he saw a trace of sadness in his eyes.
“You are older, my son,” he said. “It’s about time you finally came to see us.”
Peter chuckled ruefully. He felt older. Decades older.
“You must be Kate,” Elian said, holding his hand out and shaking Kate’s enthusiastically.
“I’m sorry,” Peter said, suddenly feeling like an idiot for leaving her standing there so long.
“Kate this is Elian Pérez. Elian, my friend Kate. You have her to thank for this visit.”
“And I won’t forget it! You can believe,” he said with the hearty laugh Peter remembered so well. “Welcome to Cuba, my dear. Welcome to Cuba.”
“Thanks,” Kate said. She seemed a little self-conscious. “I really appreciate you letting us stay. I mean, me stay. Because of course, Peter…”
She trailed off with a nervous laugh. Elian put his arm around her and ushered them toward the airport doors.
“Any friend of Peter’s is a friend of mine. Come, come. Let’s get home. Let me take your bag.”
Kate hesitated only a little before handing it over with a gracious smile. Peter smirked to himself. He knew what an effort that took. Elian led them to an old Russian Lada. Although obviously decades old, the boxy car didn’t have any dents or signs of rust. He directed Kate to the passenger seat and shooed Peter into the back with the two bags.
“You’ve had the tour before, Peter, and nothing’s really changed since the last time you were here,” he said. “We’ll let Kate have the best view. It’s all new to her.”
Industrial sites near the airport gave way to open fields that eventually sprouted houses. The closer they got to central Havana, the more closely packed the houses got. Eventually, low-rise apartment buildings dotted the neighborhoods.
Elian chatted as they drove, pointing out landmarks and giving a synopsis of the island’s history. Peter watched Kate’s profile as she took it all in. A slight flush gave her cheeks a pink glow. He wondered if it was the heat or excitement. She listened attentively, inserting questions every so often. Ever the reporter, he thought with a smile. She couldn’t help wringing the last detail out of everything. That might make for some painful conversations over the next few days. He felt sure Elian would bring up the past at some point. And Kate would no doubt expect him to fill in the gaps. Bringing her here had been a risk. He wasn’t sure whether he’d suggested she join him in spite of that or because of it.
Forty-five minutes later, Elian pulled onto a side street, drove halfway down and pulled up outside a white stucco house with vines stretching up almost to the roof on one side.
Before they could climb out of the car, a short, round woman with sparkling brown eyes bustled out the heavy wood door.
“Oh, Peter!” she cried, throwing her hands up in the air as he climbed out of the car.
“Carida!” he said, laughing as she grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed him on both cheeks.
Not wanting to make the same mistake twice, he quickly turned to look for Kate and found her standing right behind him.
“Carida, this is Kate. Kate, this is Carida Pérez.”
Kate held out her hand, but the older woman wrapped her arms around her enthusiastically. Kate’s eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t protest.
“Come in, come in,” Carida said, ushering them toward the door. “You must be tired and hot. Come in and have some nice, cold lemonade.”
The warm smell of onions, peppers, and simmering beef wafted over them when their hostess opened the door.
“Ropa Vieja!” Peter said, his mouth watering as he sniffed the air appreciatively.
“Of course! I remember how much you love it,” Carida said with a playful swat at his arm. “I think you ate your weight in it the last time you were here.”
Peter laughed. She was probably right. He’d spent his days playing soccer with Elian and Carida’s son, Macerio, and always worked up a ravenous appetite by dinnertime.
She showed them to their bedrooms, and they set their bags down before following her back into the main living area. She motioned for them to join Elian on the patio while she collected a tray of glasses and a pitcher full of lemonade.
The patio garden was exactly as Peter remembered it. An oasis of shade, with flowering vines clinging to the pergola and lush tropical plants nestled along the walls. In one corner, an ornate fountain gurgled. And at the other end, a dark blue hammock hung between two posts. You would never guess you were in the middle of the city.
Carida put the tray on a wrought-iron table and motioned for them to sit. But Kate stood staring at the lush greenery around her.
“This is amazing,” she said, glancing from the fountain to the hammock.
“It’s a great place to take a nap!” Elian said with a laugh. “We will make sure you have time to try it before you leave.”
Kate took her seat as Carida handed her a tall glass of lemonade. She smiled gratefully and took a long drink. When Carida handed Peter his glass, she glanced between him and Kate, her eyes full of unspoken questions.
“I talked to your Papa after you called me,” Elian said. “It was good to hear his voice. He seemed to be doing well.”
Peter smiled. “He told me when he called right afterward to ask why I was coming to Cuba! I hadn’t even had time to call him myself yet.”
Elian bellowed out his bright laugh and made a disapproving clicking noise. “He said you don’t call often enough. Now I believe it!”
Peter squirmed under Elian’s gentle reproof.
“That’s fair. I probably don’t.”
“And your mama?” Carida asked. “How is she holding up?”
“Good, I think. For the most part. I know it’s not easy caring for dad. But I think the hardest thing is being back here, away from the people she spent so much of her life with.”
“Hannah has a big heart,” Carida said softly.
Images of his mom surrounded by women in colorful dresses, wide smiles across every face, danced through his memory. Serving the women of Africa had been her life. Tears suddenly filled his eyes, and he looked away, hoping Kate wouldn’t notice.
“You miss it as much as she does,” Elian said, compassion softening his voice.
Peter sighed. That one word seemed too small to describe how he felt when he thought of his old home. How could four letters convey all the longing, regret, and guilt he felt whenever he thought about it?
Across the table, Kate sat motionless, almost as if she wanted to disappear from what had turned into a deeply personal conversation. But her eyes never left his face. He felt them probing his every word and reaction for clues about what they were talking about. He cleared his throat and forced his lips into a smile.
“I do miss it,” he said with false nonchalance. “But that’s in the past. My life is in Galveston now.”
“But your heart, eh? Where is that? Still in Africa, I think,” Elian said.
Peter shook his head. “No. I can’t. You know that.”
Elian leaned forward, his compassion coalescing into something that was almost stern. Peter’s heart beat faster. He had not expected to have this conversation so soon.
“What happened was not your fault,” Elian said firmly. “That is not a burden you need to keep dragging behind you. Did you make mistakes? Perhaps. But you are forgiven.”
“Forgiven is not the same as forgotten,” Peter said quietly.
“No, but over time, it can be. And for you, who knows the truth of grace, it should be.”
Peter drummed his fingers on the table. He lived in the tension between grace and guilt. He’d built safeguards so he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. But living in a cage was a far cry from the freedom he’d once known. More than anything, that’s what he longed for.
He felt Kate’s eyes boring into him. She seemed on the verge of asking a question when Carida jumped in.
“Why don’t you tell us what brought you here. Elian didn’t say much, but what he told me sounds very interesting.”
“That’s Kate’s story to tell,” Peter said, smiling at her.
The slightest pink tint colored Kate’s cheeks when their hosts looked at her expectantly.
“We’re looking for someone,” she said simply. “Someone we think faked her own murder and fled the country to start over.”
For the next fifteen minutes, Kate recounted the details of Emily Gibson’s rising star and sudden disappearance. Carida clucked her tongue and shook her head at some of the details, but neither of them interrupted her.
“So, we think she might have come here,” Kate concluded. “And hopefully we can find her.”
Elian and Carida exchanged glances. Peter took a sip of his lemonade and looked at Kate through the sheen of condensation on his glass. She’d seen their glance too and seemed to interpret it as doubt. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
“If she’s here, and we believe she is, Kate thinks her most likely plan would be to go to one of the medical schools,” he said. “So that’s where we plan to start.”
Elian sighed and shook his head. “She would probably stand out, but then so will you. You need to have a good reason for being there.”
“I’ve thought about that,” Kate said, straightening in her chair. Confidence washed away the drifts of doubt Elian’s skepticism had blown over her. “I’m going to pose as a prospective student. We can tell anyone who asks that we’re visitors and admirers of Cuban culture. We came to the island to see how we might like living here while I was in medical school.”
Peter raised his eyebrows at her apparent intention to include him in her fictitious plans to settle in Cuba. Kate’s face flushed.
“Since you’re here, that just seemed to make the most sense,” she said, an edge of defensiveness sharpening her voice.
Peter grinned. “No problem. I’m sure we can make it convincing.”
Kate rolled her eyes. Elian chuckled but then grew serious.
“Convincing is very important,” he said, looking back and forth between them. “If they think you’re lying, they will bring you in for questioning. Or worse.”
Worry creased Kate’s forehead. But she swallowed and lifted her chin.
“We’ll be fine,” she said. “If it seems like they’re suspicious, we’ll leave right away and try to figure something else out.”
“We will pray for your safety,” Carida said soothingly as she reached over to pat Kate’s hand.
Peter stifled a smile at Kate’s mumbled thanks. Carida stood and gathered the pitcher and glasses onto the tray she’d used to bring them outside.
“Dinner won’t be ready for a few more hours. Why don’t you take Kate for a walk while it’s still light? You should be able to make it down to the beach and back before dark.”
Peter raised his eyebrows at Kate to gauge her interest, and she nodded. After getting a few directions from Elian, they headed out the gate. The sun-drenched street felt glaring and hot after the shady patio. But a sea breeze stirred around them, taking the sting out of the sun’s rays. When they got to a main road, they took shelter in the dappled shade thrown by the trees that dotted the sidewalk.
They walked in silence for a while. Kate drank in everything they passed. The Vedado neighborhood was one of Havana’s most eclectic. Stately old houses gave the neighborhood an air of faded glory. Their dull paint and pocked stucco suggested abandonment. Every so often, Peter spotted a boarded-up window.
“It looks a lot like Galveston,” Kate mused. “That is, if the city fired all the code enforcement officers and everyone was broke.”
Peter nodded thoughtfully. “I was thinking everything looked starved. Like it’s slowly dying.”
Kate grimaced. “That’s bleak. But accurate, I guess.”
“The people are such a contrast to their surroundings,” Peter said, nodding toward the groups of chattering, laughing pedestrians on the other side of the street. “Joyful and resilient.”
Twenty minutes later, they rounded the corner of an austere apartment tower and the sparkling blue Caribbean Sea stretched out in front of them. Kate took a deep breath of the salty breeze as she scanned the horizon. They waited for the traffic light to change and trotted across the Malecón to the seawall. They sat on the rough top and dangled their legs over the side.
“Just like home,” Kate said with a laugh as the breeze lifted her ponytail off her neck.
“The water looks a little more inviting,” Peter said, gesturing toward the azure waves.
“I’ll give you that.”
They sat in silence for a while. Peter scanned the horizon, looking for boats. When he glanced back at Kate, he caught her watching him. He looked away, hoping to avoid the interrogation she looked ready to spring on him. She didn’t speak, but her curiosity filled the space between them like a lion coiled to pounce.
Peter sighed.
“I know you have questions. And I will answer them, eventually. But not right now.”
He glanced at her again, and something in her eyes kept him from looking away. The guardedness that normally hung around her like a veil had vanished. Her face held an openness he’d never seen before. It was like she’d voluntarily pulled aside a curtain to see more clearly and be more clearly seen. Something stirred deep in his heart. He’d felt a twinge many times in the last year, but he’d squelched it unmercifully. Now it had come fully awake and there was no hope of beating it back.
They sat there, staring at each other, for longer than Peter would have thought possible. The weight of his unspoken story pulled harder than at any time in the last 10 years. He wanted to tell her what he’d witnessed, what he’d done. What he’d lost. Her wide, clear eyes spoke acceptance and understanding. Could he finally confess to someone who hadn’t known him all those years ago what he’d been afraid to admit for so long?
A shout behind them made her jump and broke the spell. Peter looked over his shoulder. A group of teenage boys strode past them, laughing and joking with each other, unaware they’d interrupted anything.
Peter glanced back at Kate. She was looking over the water again, her usual guardedness back in place. His opportunity had rolled away like a wave retreating to the vast sea.
“We’d better start walking back,” he said reluctantly. “Carida will have dinner ready soon, and I don’t want to keep her waiting.”
Kate nodded and smiled. “She seems pretty fond of you.”
“I think Carida is fond of everyone,” he said, standing and reaching down to help her up. She hesitated only slightly before placing her hand in his. It took just a moment for him to pull her to her feet. He let go immediately, but his fingers still tingled where they’d held hers. They walked back in silence. His missed opportunity trudged behind, pelting him with regret.
The mouth-watering tang of peppers and spices greeted them when they came through the gate.
“There you are! Just in time. It is ready,” Carida said. “We eat on the patio.”
They helped her carry bowls, cups, and spoons outside. When the table was set, they sat down and Elian stretched out his hands to his guests, palms up. Peter smiled and did the same, taking one of Elian’s hands in his left and Carida’s in his right. After a moment of hesitation, Kate did the same on the other side of the table.
“Let’s pray,” Elian said, bowing his head.
As his friend’s words of thanksgiving poured over them, Peter wondered what Kate was thinking and feeling. He’d hoped being here would challenge her disbelief and open her eyes to a new way of looking at life. If it didn’t? He’d have to root out that seedling of hope and yearning that had sprung to life. He knew it was foolish to feed something that could never bear fruit. But he also knew how painful it would be to walk away from something he suddenly wanted with all his heart.
Chapter 21
Kate slept fitfully and woke as the sun started to peek in at the window of her small room. She could hear voices in the kitchen and the warm slightly burnt smell of coffee beckoned. She dressed quickly and pulled her hair into a ponytail before opening her door. She nearly bumped into Peter in the narrow hallway.
