Chapter 29

I had trouble falling asleep that night. Part of it was the unfamiliar room and unfamiliar bed. Part of it was that I was too keyed up from the evening, and from anticipation of the next day. I thought about calling Sherri, but it was already past midnight her time. Eventually I just flipped on the TV and watched a B-movie on Showtime until I was drowsy and bored enough to sleep. I woke up earlier than I wanted and, after lying in bed for half an hour, got up and went questing for breakfast.

As I sipped my coffee and my head slowly cleared, I realized I had time to kill before I got on the road. Maybe calling Sherri would be a good thing after all. After I finished my breakfast, I pulled out my calling card and headed back to the room.

Lisa answered. "How's the trip going?" she asked after I'd introduced myself.

"Okay," I said. "Tina and I had a good dinner and a good conversation. I'll drive up to see her father in a little bit."

"So are you two getting back together?"

"It's too early to tell."

"Oh."

I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything.

"Well, here's Sherri," she said.

Sherri came on the line and I filled her in on what had happened, from Tina's reaction to the photo album through the hug goodnight.

"So," she said when I was done, "how do you feel about her dating other guys?"

"Mixed," I said. "On the one hand, I don't like the idea of her choosing another guy over me. On the other hand, I know that part of the reason I held my heart back was because she was so young and inexperienced. I wasn't comfortable being her one and only boyfriend."

"That doesn't mean she'll actually have another boyfriend if she goes out with other guys."

"True. But I don't think that matters as much as knowing she could have, if she wanted."

"Make sure she knows that."

"What?" I asked. "That she should go out with other guys?"

"That exploring her options will be good for your relationship."

I furrowed my brow as I considered it. "Hmmm."

"If she finds a guy she likes better than you," Sherri continued, "then she needs to know you won't have any hard feelings. And if she doesn't, she needs to know that you won't mind the fact that she's looked."

"I think I can do that."

"Good. And you need to think about what you'll do while she's looking."

"Hmm." I could look myself, but did I really want to? "I'll think about it."

"Anything else?"

"Are you available Sunday evening?" I asked. "I have a feeling I'm going to want to get together when I get back."

"I'll see what I can do. When's your flight arrive?"

I gave her my flight information and then asked her how things were going for her. We chatted briefly about her classes, but she seemed distracted, so we quickly wound the conversation down and said goodbye. I could ask her about whatever was going on when I returned.

I looked around the room one last time. I didn't seem to be forgetting anything, and I really couldn't postpone this any further. It was two hours up and two hours back, which was a lot of driving for one short conversation. One short, critical conversation.

But I couldn't back out now.

I grabbed a novel and headed out to the car. I planned to eat lunch on the way, and I could also find some place to sit and read if I was early. All that was left to do was make sure I arrived on time.

I pulled up in front of the Delgado house precisely at two. Mr. Delgado came out on the porch while I was getting out of the car. He crossed his arms and frowned as I walked up.

"Hello, Mr. Delgado," I said.

"A convertible? Are you suddenly made of money?"

I turned and looked at my rental car, a little abashed. "It wasn't that expensive. Although in hindsight, it was a bad idea."

He looked at me. "I'm glad you can recognize a bad idea."

"Yes, sir."

"Inside," he said, gesturing with his head.

I followed Mr. Delgado into the living room, where he motioned me toward the couch. I sat on the edge while he sank into a chair opposite me. The room was quiet; none of the rest of the family seemed to be home.

"So," he said, "what do you have to say?"

I gulped. "I ... I messed up badly."

"You certainly did," he interjected.

I grimaced but plowed on. "But I'm trying to fix that. I've apologized to Tina—."

"She showed me the letter."

"Uh," Tina hadn't been kidding when she said she'd told him everything. I clenched my fists to avoid trembling.

"I mean it," I said. "Your daughter's an incredible woman, but I was so focused on getting out of Arizona that I didn't give her all she deserved."

"Damn right," he said, his eyes hard and cold. "But now you're out. Why come back?"

"Because I need to fix things, I said in a rush. "Tina's the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I want her in my life. But even if I can't have that, I need to fix things."

Mr. Delgado didn't interrupt me this time. He just stared at me, as if I was a bug under his microscope. I realized I was digging my fingernails into my own flesh, but I couldn't will myself to relax.

"So," he finally said, "how do you plan to fix things?"

"I don't know," I said. "One step at a time, starting with this one, talking to you."

He grunted and continued studying me.

"I told Tina I'd do whatever you asked me to," I volunteered.

"Even if that meant leaving Arizona and never coming back or trying to contact my daughter again?"

I gulped again. "If you could explain why that would be best for Tina, then yes, yes I would."

"Or if I told you to marry her, now that you've taken her virginity and almost gotten her pregnant?"

I couldn't hold the tension any more. I let out a long breath and sagged forward, bringing my hands up to my chin. Fine. Time for nothing but the truth.

"I would like to marry your daughter some day," I said. "But getting married now wouldn't be good for her, and, honestly, I might not be the best guy for her to marry."

"I'm surprised to hear you admit that," he said, without the biting edge to his words that he'd had since I walked in the door.

"I want her," I said, "but I want her to be happy more."

Mr. Delgado sat silently, his eyes continuing to flick over me. Considering me. I willed myself to start breathing more regularly.

"You do," he finally said.

"I do. I just don't know how."

He let out a low, unsavory chortle. "You're not the only one." Then he stood.

"You want a beer?" he asked.

I blinked. "Uh ... sure."

"C'mon." He gestured toward the kitchen.

I stood and followed him, and then waited by the counter while he retrieved two bottles from the fridge. He opened them and passed one to me.

"When Tina first came back from D.C," he said, leaning back against the opposite counter, "I wanted to..." He grinned to himself. "Well, they weren't very Christian thoughts."

I started to tense up.

He took a sip of beer. "But Tina defended you. She didn't want me to hurt you, even after all you did." He took another sip. "But she also didn't want to marry you, when we thought she might be pregnant."

"I had no idea—"

"I know. She didn't tell you."

I fell silent and took a sip of my own beer. The bitter taste reminded me why I preferred wine, but I knew better than to say anything.

"Do you think you can make her happy?" Mr. Delgado asked after a few moments.

"I don't know," I said. "I think so. I certainly know I won't screw up again."

He chuckled again. "Oh, you will," he said. "I've been married over twenty years. You'll make more mistakes."

"I'll make different ones. I won't repeat this one."

He lowered his beer and looked at me, his eyes steely once again. "You're right. You won't."

I met his eyes and forced myself not to blink. Finally, with a curt nod, Mr. Delgado broke eye contact and took another swig of beer.

"I'm..." he paused, apparently searching for the right word, " ... unhappy that Tina did not wait until her wedding night to go to bed with a man. But I've had a long time to adjust to the idea. I've also prayed about it and talked to my priest. It's not like I didn't do the same when I was in your position."

"What?"

"Didn't Tina tell you?" he asked. "I thought she had figured it out. She was born seven months after her mother and I were married."

I set the beer down on the counter and stared at him.

"I know what it's like to be young and in love and impatient," he said, not looking at all apologetic. "That's why I took precautions when Tina was dating in high school."

Yeah, those chaperones were effective, I thought. They just increased her curiosity for later.

"But," he continued, "as she's made clear, she's grown up, whether I like it or not. I can't protect her anymore." He paused and took another sip of beer.

I just looked at him, seeing him differently than I had before. As I did so, my muscles relaxed and my breathing settled back into a normal rhythm. I suppressed a chuckle. Why had I been so afraid?

Mr. Delgado looked at me, studying me once again.

I took a deep breath.

"So," I said, "what do you want me to do?"

"I want you to give her room."

I raised my eyebrows.

"She needs to concentrate on school," he said, "and graduate. She says she's still studying hard, but I know she's lying to me." He paused again. "She doesn't tell her mother stories about her classes like she used to."

"I ... I see." I took a sip of my own beer. "And I suppose that change happened when she got back from D.C."

He nodded.

I grimaced. "I can do that," I said. "Give her room. And I can tell her that I want her to do well in her classes, too."

"How will that help?"

I paused, thinking. "I don't know if it will," I finally said. "But I know she wants to go to medical school, and she won't be able to do that if her grades drop. Maybe it'll help if I encourage her, too."

"You do that."

I nodded. Then I paused. What exactly did 'give her room' mean?

I considered just winging it, or figuring it out later, but then I hesitated. I suspected that Mr. Delgado would not be happy if my definition did not match his.

"Uh," I said, "just to be on the safe side—what do you mean by 'give her room'?"

He frowned. "Don't call her every day like you were, for one."

"That's easy."

"And don't push her to get back together with you."

I let out a deep breath. "No, I know that won't work. She has to decide whether she wants me on her own, without pressure."

"And you walk away if she doesn't."

I nodded, and met his eyes. They didn't seem as harsh as I'd perceived them before, but they were still firm.

"I will," I promised.

"Good. Because if you don't..."

"I understand."

We looked at each other again, before Mr. Delgado started walking back to the living room, gesturing for me to follow. I returned to my seat on the couch, this time leaning back.

"Also," he said after he'd gotten settled, "if Tina does choose you, that Sharon woman goes."

"She's just a friend."

"Friends don't do some of the things she's done. No decent woman does. Only ... women of loose morals. I don't want Tina associating with her."

"I think that's Tina's decision."

"No, it's not," he said firmly, balling one hand into a fist. "It's yours. That Jezebel has led you both astray and if you insist on keeping her around, then you do not deserve to be with my daughter."

Thoughts of defending Sharon died before they reached my lips. I knew it wasn't all her fault, but arguing with Mr. Delgado gained me nothing.

"I understand, sir." I was tense all over again. I took a measured breath. "Is there anything else?"

"No," he said, leaning back in his chair and drinking some more beer.

I realized I'd better be crystal clear about what I'd heard.

"So," I said, "you wanted me to come out here so you could tell me to give Tina some room and that I needed to end my friendship with Sharon. Is that correct?"

He chuckled. "I wanted you to come out here to see if you'd do it."

He noted my look of confusion, but took another sip of beer before continuing.

"Any boy can make phone calls," he said. "But only a man who's serious about what he wants would travel all the way across the country to get it." He paused. "If you hadn't come, it would have shown Tina what kind of a man you really were. It would have been easy for her to move on."

I couldn't help a wry smile. "But I screwed it up by actually coming out."

He chuckled. "In a way, you did. But in a way, you didn't."

He checked his watch. "The rest of the family will be back soon. You should get going."

I nodded and stood up. He walked me to the door. On the porch, I paused, not quite knowing whether to shake his hand or just walk on to the car. I turned to him.

"I'll do my best to make her happy," I said.

"You succeed and we'll get along fine."

We didn't shake hands, but just nodded at each other. I turned and walked to the car. When I looked back, he'd already disappeared inside.

I felt exhilarated as I drove off. I'd survived! It actually hadn't gone that bad at all. I mused about Mr. Delgado having a shotgun wedding because he'd gotten Tina's mom pregnant. They were still together and gave every indication that they were happy, so it had obviously worked, but somehow that small kernel put an entirely different face on the man.

I stopped for gas and leaned against the side of the car while the tank filled. The warm sun felt great, and I chuckled at how much I was enjoying just standing there. Yes, the February weather in Arizona was great, but it hadn't changed since this morning. I'd just been too self-absorbed to notice it.

I paid the cashier and, walking back to the car, decided what the heck. After some playing around with various knobs, I managed to retract the top of the convertible. Settling back into the driver's seat, I basked in the sunlight and the image of me being oh so cool, and headed out to I-10.

It didn't take long to discover I'd made a mistake. Despite the sun, the breeze at 70 mph was freezing. It might be fun to toodle around the neighborhood, but a convertible on the interstate was like driving in a wind tunnel. After about thirty minutes, I threw in the towel and pulled over to put the top back up. At least I'd been stupid after seeing Mr. Delgado instead of before.

A little more sober, I pulled into the hotel parking lot a few hours later. Checking my watch, I had plenty of time to shower and fix my wind-blown hair before meeting Tina. I considered calling Sherri. Would it be smarter to check in with her now, or better to face the next conversation on my own?