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  “She said she owed it to you,” Jill laughed.

  Laughing, Delphie drained her tea cup.

  “My mother thought I was possessed by the devil,” Delphie said. “She… wasn’t very nice… to me. My father realized I could help him make money… gambling. I remember being about Katy’s age… helping him play poker. He did well. Really well.”

  “That’s horrible. I would never do that to Katy.”

  “You’re a different person,” Delphie said. “I was really angry with my mother. But Celia used to say she didn’t know any better. I saw my mother downtown about ten years ago… She didn’t recognize me. She was a simple woman, uneducated, not unkind, and very frightened by God and his Devil.”

  “What happened? To your parents? To… you?”

  “My father gained quite a reputation as a great poker player. He was a decent player to begin with. With my help, he won every hand. One day he played a guy who was a psychic and a poker player. He lost all his money. Then he lost me.”

  Jill gasped.

  “My father was furious when the man wouldn’t give him a chance to win me back,” Delphie said. “I was five or six.”

  “I would kill someone who thought they could take Katy from me.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t like that, Jill. My father saw me as income.” Delphie shrugged. “I don’t know what happened to him. I lived with that other guy until Celia saved me.”

  “Good for Celia! How did she do that?”

  “She and Sam stole me,” Delphie said. “Celia hid me at her father’s house. No one would ever go against Delbert Marlowe. Not a chance. He was a big deal in Leadville. That’s where we’re from. Leadville.”

  “She’s discounting something,” Sam came in the room. He leaned over to kiss Delphie’s cheek. “She was incredibly brave. Heroic even.”

  “It was Celia,” Delphie said. “Celia could be so wild. She’d get an idea in her head and we’d go along.”

  Jill smiled.

  “Did Valerie eat the entire cheesecake?” Delphie asked.

  “Every bite,” Sam said. “Will you come down for a while?”

  “Of course,” Delphie moved to get up.

  “Slowly,” Jill said. “You’ve had a terrible shock.”

  “Where are the papers?” Delphie asked.

  “Jacob has them,” Jill said. “Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it together.”

  Delphie smiled at Jill. Delphie’s eyes welled up with tears when she saw that Celia had been there all along.

  “No one can own another person.” Celia repeated what she had said all those years ago. “You belong to you and only you.”

  “Celia?” Sam asked.

  “Here to tell me I belong to myself,” Delphie nodded.

  “You belong to us too,” Sam said. “Celia and me. We belong together.”

  “And all of us,” Jill said. “Jacob, Katy, me, Val and Mike.”

  Sam held his hand out to Delphie. He helped her up from the bed. She went into her bathroom. Wanting to give them a little privacy, Jill carried Katy to the door. She nodded to Sam then left.

  “Are you all right?” Sam asked.

  “No, I’m not,” Delphie said. “I guess I thought… Well, that it had all gone away.”

  Sam held her close.

  “We got through it once,” Sam said. “We’ll get through it again.”

  Delphie nodded.

  “Valerie made something for you,” Sam said. “Your favorite.”

  “She did not.”

  “She did,” Sam said. “Kind of a ‘thank you’ for the cheesecake.”

  “How does it look?”

  “She’s had to fight people to keep them from eating it.”

  “I do love Crème Brûlée.” Delphie beamed at Valerie’s generosity.

  “Oh, Crème Brûlée? Is that your favorite?”

  Laughing, Delphie slapped at him. He squeezed her hand. And they returned to the boisterous pre-Thanksgiving dessert party.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Friday afternoon—– 12:58 P.M.

  “Vayamos adentro,” Tres Sierra said to his brother Enrique.

  Enrique was sitting on the patio of Limón, Denver’s Peruvian restaurant.

  “Yo no puedo fumar adentro,” Enrique said.

  “And smoking is the most important thing in the entire universe,” Tres continued in Spanish.

  “Yes, little brother,” Enrique replied in Spanish.

  “Fine.” Tres tucked his hands into his pockets. “It’s freezing out here.”

  “You’re such a baby,” Enrique said. “We’ll go inside.”

  Enrique puffed down the last of his cigarette and followed Tres into the restaurant. They always met the day after Thanksgiving. Ever since their mother told Enrique he would burn in hell for eternity, that is. Tres went to family Thanksgiving then spent Friday with Enrique.

  The attendant sat them at a table near the middle of the restaurant. They didn’t bother even looking at each other until the wine and appetizers were ordered.

  “How was Thanksgiving?” Enrique asked in Spanish.

  “The same as always,” Tres replied in Spanish. “A lot of people in a tiny house. Hot. Too much food and too many questions. When are you going to find a nice girl, Tres? What’s this I hear about a girl in your office? When will you give me grandchildren?”

  “Glad I missed it,” Enrique said.

  “What did you do?”

  “Went to orphan’s Thanksgiving,” Enrique said. “It was nice. Funny people. I brought my chocolate pecan pie. It was a big hit.”

  “You mean Blane’s chocolate pecan pie.”

  “His recipe,” Enrique said. “My skills.”

  Tres raised an eyebrow at his brother. The waiter poured their wine and took their dinner order. Biding their time, they were silent through the appetizers. Neither brother wanted to ask the question they were dying to know.

  “What did you find out?” Enrique asked.

  “About what?”

  “Very funny,” Enrique said.

  “Blane’s viral count is half. The doctors think he’ll kick the Hepatitis C in a couple months. He’s back to working out and playing hockey.”

  “And his liver?” Enrique asked.

  “He doesn’t drink.”

  Enrique nodded.

  “I’m not exactly sure how his liver is doing,” Tres said. “But overall he seems fine. Really good. Happy. He’ll finish acupuncture school next term. He already has private clients. I heard Jake talk about the treatment room they are putting in his basement. He’ll see clients there.”

  “And the child?”

  “From what I can tell, it’s not his,” Tres said. “But he’s every bit the father. He keeps the ultrasounds in a frame on his desk. And… they are cute together.”

  “Has he gone straight?” Enrique’s face pinched.

  “I haven’t asked that directly,” Tres said. “But… I don’t think so. They seem more like brother and sister or good friends. But that’s what I want so…”

  “Me too, brother.”

  “What did you find out?” Tres asked.

  “I talked to a guy who went out with Heather in high school,” Enrique said. “He said she was very sweet, pretty, but a part of this group of girls. He said she was more interested in them than anything else.”

  “Jake’s wife, Jill, is one of them.”

  “Yeah, Jill, Tanesha, Sandy and your Heather. The guy’s girlfriend said she always wanted a billion kids. She wasn’t surprised Heather was pregnant. She was only surprised Heather waited so long to start.”

  “Where did you find these people?”

  “Church. You should try it sometime,” Enrique said. “I went out to lunch after mass with a group from Machebeuf. They knew Heather and her friends.”

  “Did they say anything else?”

  “Only that she was a ‘good girl’, ‘nice person’ that kind of thing,” Enrique smiled at Tres. “Not your type at all.”
/>
  “What type?”

  “Is Blane…? I mean, do you think he’s…”

  “What?”

  “Moved on.”

  “He hasn’t dated since you screwed him over,” Tres said. “Burned by love, that’s what I heard.”

  “By me,” Enrique said. “I suck.”

  “Yes, you do,” Tres said. “Apologies work. I mean, I screwed up with Heather. I apologized to Blane and he was great. She’s not been warm but… Have you tried saying you’re sorry?”

  “He won’t see me,” Enrique said. “Changes his number every time I get it. Won’t look at me if he sees me in public. It’s like I don’t exist.”

  “Are you sorry?”

  Enrique leaned back to allow the waiter to set their meals down. The waiter returned with more water and poured the rest of their wine. The men were silent through their interaction with the waiter.

  “Sorry?” Tres asked.

  “Sorry isn’t exactly it,” Enrique said. “Ashamed, mean, foolish, stupid, cruel, evil, idiot. Pick one. On any given day, I feel all of those things. I destroyed the best person I’ve ever known, for no reason at all. I’ve regretted it every single day, every moment of every single day since then.”

  Tres nodded to his brother.

  “Blane’s working the smoking cessation clinic all next month,” Tres said. “Jake told me.”

  “Jake told you… Why did he tell you that?”

  “Why do you think?”

  ~~~~~~~~

  Friday afternoon — 12:58 P.M.

  “I didn’t believe you,” Heather said.

  “PB&J chicken,” Blane said. “Isn’t it amazing?”

  They were eating on a card table in the living room. The kitchen was in the throes of the remodel. Blane had set up a little kitchen in the living room to tide them over. He’d been so ill that Heather had mostly microwaved their frozen dinners. This was the first time he’d felt well enough to cook.

  “God, I could eat the whole chicken. And I’m still full from yesterday.”

  “The baby’s growing a lot,” Blane said.

  “And I’m a pig!” Heather laughed. “This has been the best Thanksgiving I’ve ever had. Spent the morning with Mom and the afternoon at the Castle. Mom likes you.”

  “Yes. And I’m glad we don’t see her much.”

  “Me too,” Heather said. “She’s so angry. You know?”

  Blane smiled at Heather.

  “What did you find out?” He asked.

  “About Enrique?”

  Blane gave a curt nod.

  “He’s really cute,” Heather said. “I talked to a friend of Tanesha’s. She works with him. She said he’s kind of a workaholic web guy. Programs for one of the big web companies. He’s got a reputation for being very intense. She thinks he’s a nice guy.”

  Blane nodded at the information he already knew.

  “Dating? Married?” Blane asked.

  “Not that anyone knows,” Heather said. “He plays things very close to his chest. My friend said she thinks he just works. He has a fixer upper house somewhere on the hill. I guess he talks about the house. A lot. Says he spends his weekends trying to find the exact matching brick to his house, stuff like that. Intense. Perfectionist. Was he like that when you knew him?”

  “Yeah,” Blane said. “It’s intimidating at first but you always know where you stand.”

  Heather’s eyes searched Blane’s face. She squeezed his hand.

  “You don’t have to ever see him again.”

  “Why do I want to so badly?” Blane asked.

  “Glutton for punishment,” Heather said. “What did you find out?”

  “Let’s see… Tres is the youngest child. Never married. Last girlfriend was at his old job. He moved jobs to keep the relationship but it didn’t last. He owns a condo out on Stapleton. Runs… a lot, like marathons and stuff. Has a dog. Climbs. Backpacks. Fishes.”

  “He’s going to have to be really special to make up for everything,” Heather shrugged.

  “He thinks he is,” Blane laughed.

  “Every man thinks he is special,” Heather said. “Even our baby.”

  “Our baby is special,” Blane said.

  Heather laughed.

  “His name is Antonio Gutierrez Sierra, III. He’s named after his father’s brother. Gay brother, by the way. Everyone but his father agrees that the uncle is gay,” Blane said. “He goes by Tres because he can’t stand being called Tony. He seems like a decent guy, very steady, good with numbers. He’s helped Jake sort out a lot of financial stuff. I don’t know, Heather, maybe we were too hasty.”

  “By deciding they were freeway gardens?”

  Blane nodded.

  “I’ve thought the same thing,” she said. “I’m not really in the position to date right now. And you still have at least three more months of the Ribavirin.”

  “Let’s wait until the baby’s born,” Blane said.

  “Until the baby’s born,” Heather nodded. “Did you make the chocolate cake?”

  “Of course.”

  “For me?”

  “Of course.”

  “You’re too good for Enrique.”

  “You’re too good for Tres.”

  “That’s right. Let’s keep telling ourselves that.”

  “Maybe it will work.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY

  Celia Marlowe has a son

  Saturday morning — 7:00 A.M.

  Dozen’s Restaurant

  Jill and Sandy looked up when Heather trotted into the restaurant. With her big belly and happy smile, Heather was her own planet of happiness and, as she always added, swollen feet.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Heather said.

  “We just got here,” Jill said.

  “Well, I know Sandy has to work today…”

  “And yesterday,” Jill said.

  “And tomorrow,” Heather said.

  “It’s that time of the year,” Sandy smiled. “At least this year I’m going to go to some of these parties, not only help people get ready for them.”

  “Oooh that’s right,” Heather said. “You have one tonight?”

  “At the Brown Palace,” Jill said. “There’s a tea mid-day tomorrow, but Sandy can’t go.”

  “I’ve never been to high-tea at the Brown Palace,” Heather said.

  “I haven’t either,” Sandy said.

  “This will be my first time,” Jill said. “Let’s plan to go before Christmas.”

  “Go where?” Tanesha asked.

  “Tanesha!!” The women said in unison. They stood to hug their friend.

  “I thought you had to work?” Jill hugged Tanesha.

  “I quit all those jobs,” Tanesha hugged Sandy. Turning to hug Heather, she said, “Jeez, look at you!”

  “I’m an elephant,” Heather said.

  The women laughed. They were so delighted to see Tanesha that they stood for a moment just looking at her. Embarrassed at the fuss, Tanesha indicated that they should sit down.

  “There’s a story here,” Sandy said. “How did you quit all those jobs?”

  “There’s really not much to tell,” Tanesha said.

  The waitress came over to see if Tanesha needed coffee and refilled the other’s cups.

  “How is that possible?” Heather asked. “I haven’t seen you in months. Well, except for the wedding when you could only stay for the ceremony.”

  “She’s trying to say that we’ve missed you,” Jill said. “A lot.”

  The women nodded their heads.

  “Really?” Tanesha asked.

  “A lot,” Sandy said.

  Tanesha looked from Jill to Sandy, then to Heather whose head bounced in a nod. Tanesha smiled.

  “Thanks. I missed you guys too.”

  “How did you quit your jobs?” Heather asked.

  “Someone bought my gran’s house,” Tanesha said. “I came home from work yesterday and my gran told me everything worked out. She even got money to fix a fe
w things.”

  “Wow,” Heather said. “Just wow.”

  “Yeah, wow. I made my gran show me all the papers and the check,” Tanesha said. “It’s all legit. We pay a kind of rent until gran dies. When she dies, the owner will work out what we owe against the equity in the house. We’ll have a chance to sell the house or buy out the equity. If gran can hold on until I’m out of med school, which she says she can, we’re fine.”

  “That calls for a celebration!” Jill exclaimed.

  “We’ll have to see how it turns out. I mean, you never know. But I’m hopeful.”

  The waitress came to take their orders. To celebrate, Jill ordered cinnamon scones for everyone.

  “So what are you going to do now?” Sandy asked Tanesha.

  “I called school. I can’t go next term but I’m in for fall,” Tanesha said. “I’m going to sleep for about a month, then look for another job to tide me over.”

  “Don’t you worry that someone is going to rip off your gran?” Heather asked.

  “You mean because she’s a poor stupid black woman?” Tanesha asked.

  “No, Tanesha, I…” Heather gasped.

  “She is a poor stupid black woman. She calls herself a stupid black woman for getting into that other mortgage.” Tanesha laughed. “I checked all the paper work and called our old mortgage company. It’s legit. I even looked up the company. It’s called MLR properties. Have you heard of it?”

  The women shook their heads.

  “They own Jill’s old building,” Tanesha said.

  The woman looked at Jill. Embarrassed, Jill focused on her food.

  “Anything you’d like to tell us, Mrs. Marlowe?” Tanesha asked.

  Jill shook her head.

  “How did Jacob Marlowe come to buy my gran’s house?”

  “He asked me what I wanted for a wedding present.” Jill blushed. “I asked him to buy your grandmother’s house so you wouldn’t have to work so much. I guess he did.”

  “Really?” Heather asked. “You didn’t ask for something fun or glamorous? A house in Aspen? Or Malibu?”

  “I asked for the best present I could think of – the return of my friend Tanesha.”

  “Thanks.” Sniffling at her tears, Tanesha took Jill’s hands.

  “I’m sure you’d do it for me.” Jill nodded.