The Story of Manny Chapter 28

Republisher’s Note: Manny have to face the consequences.

The baptism service was beautiful. Camille was an absolute doll through the whole thing. She never cried. Not once. It meant everything to me to see Danny sitting in the pew, finally well enough to walk and talk and function on his own. It killed me to see him so battered and helpless. It was several days before I even knew if he would make it. It was several days after that before anyone knew what kind of recovery he would make. For a few days, the neurologist told me he doubted if Danny would be able to speak again. I remember being physically sick at the thought that I would never hear my husband’s beautiful voice again. I would never hear him tell me he loved me. I would never hear him sing lullabies to his baby girl. I would never hear him moan my name when I made love to him. Of course, Danny beat all of the odds. Once he began breathing on his own he fought so hard to get well. When I saw how much he went through and witnessed the pain he had to endure, I knew whoever was responsible for this had to pay.

It was Carmen’s plan. All I had to do was make the call. I was such an emotional wreck I really didn’t realize what I was doing. I just knew that I wanted to protect my husband and our life together. He had risked everything for me over and over again. It was time for me to do the same. Theresa Sandavol could not be a problem for Danny any more.

Danny still needs to lean on me for support when he walks and he can’t move very quickly or go very far without getting tired. I know he knows. I know he knows I helped Carmen set up the hit. He hasn’t said anything about it to me. In fact, he hasn’t said anything at all. We drove out to Laurel Falls in complete silence after lunch. He insisted on going for a walk against my better judgement. It hurts his pride to depend on me for anything, especially something as simple as walking. We’ve been taking small, slow steps for about 20 minutes when he asks to sit down and take a break. I can see he’s in pain.

“What can I do?” I kneel before him. I hate seeing him like this.

“Nothing,” he says softly with jagged breath.

I reach in my bag and hand him a bottle of water. “Do you want a pain pill?”

“No.”

He’s looking away from me, over at a creek where a family of birds is drinking. “How about some Tylenol. That’s not so strong.”

“I don’t want any damned medicine. All right?” His whisper has suddenly escalated. “I don’t need it.”

“All right.” I put the medicine back in my bag and join him on the rock where he’s resting. I sit behind him and begin massaging his shoulders. “You’re so tense. You need to relax. The stress is not good for you.”

“I’m not stressed.” He’s trying to fight my touch but he can’t. I feel the tension slowly leaving his body. He closes his eyes and hangs his head. His breathing is slowing. I continue kneading my fingers into his back and shoulders, then slide my palms down the front of his chest where I rest my left hand over his heart and feel the strong beat. I nestle my nose into the space between his neck and shoulder and slowly leave soft kisses on his skin. It’s been so long since I’ve loved him this way. He reaches up and holds my left hand as my kisses become more intense. I gently nibble on his sweet, beautiful skin then drag my tongue up the side of his neck to his ear where I continue my delicious journey. I lean over his shoulder and reach for his lips. He’s reluctant at first but then he relaxes and gives into my kiss, pulling me across his body to rest on his lap, our mouths never separating. I’m pulling his face to me, I want him to be as close to me as possible. I want to connect with him completely. It feels so good to have his tongue dancing inside my mouth, to feel his lips devouring me. I slide my hand down from his heart to feel him, yearning with desire. He moans softly when my hand rests in its new destination.

“Let’s go home,” I whisper as he pulls away from my lips and begins kissing down my neck. He’s slowly gliding his hands underneath my T-shirt and massaging my breasts. It’s been so long since we’ve made love. I want him more than anything right now.

“We are home,” he breathes. I giggle as his lips continue trailing down my chest. I’m thinking of the first time we made love in that awful pink bed.

“Honey, it’s the end of November. I love you but I do not want to get frostbite with you,” I sit up , straddle him and wrap my hands around his neck. “Besides, you should not be letting me do this to you. You need your rest. Let’s just go home, all right?” He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close to him.

“Come on,” he says softly, gently pushing me off of him. “Look over here.” He grabs my hand and leads me slowly down a dirt path. I see it immediately. I see the white structure atop the hill. I cannot believe it. Our house. It’s our house.

“Our house…”

“It’s still in need of some work, but we should be able to move in before Christmas.”

“Oh my God, Danny! Our house!” I hug him so tight before running to the front door. It takes him a while to catch up to me but when he does I shower him with kisses. “It’s beautiful.”

There is a fire place in the living room that’s set off by huge bay windows overlooking the falls. A dining room separates the living room and the kitchen, a very large kitchen with a breakfast bar and a patio. A den, play room and pantry are also downstairs. Upstairs, several bedrooms and bathrooms share the space with a home gym and library. The master bedroom is gorgeous. It too has a fireplace and a patio that leads outside. The spot where we renewed our vows is just below and the falls are to our right. There’s a hot tub outside and inside and the bathroom is gorgeous. It’s gray and white marble with an old-fashioned bath tub like the one I loved so much in Mexico. I emerge from one of two walk-in closets to find Danny, looking a bit tired, starting a fire.

“This is better than we talked about,” I say, joining his side. “Let me do this. You sit down. You look tired.” He finally lets me take over and sits on blanket left by the construction workers. I start the fire then snuggle up to him. “Where are we ever going to get enough furniture to fill this whole house?”

“I’m running a Fortune 500 company, I think we can afford furniture. We’re not on the run anymore Michelle, you can have everything you want.” He rubs his hands together and zips his coat. He’s back to the distant Danny he was before we came up here.

“You cold?” I wrap another blanket around him and kiss him tenderly. “Better?”

“Yeah.”

“You want to tell me what’s been bothering you?”

“No.”

“So something is bothering you?”

“Did you see the Jacuzzi? They put one out on the balcony, too. They haven’t built the pool yet but I figured we could clear some of those trees to the west and put it there. I was thinking of maybe having a little playground put there for Camille. She’ll be running around by the time summer gets here, you know?”

“Danny, don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t shut me out. We’ve worked so hard to get past that. You’ve been through so much, honey. If you need to talk I want you to know I am here for you.” I sit up on his lap and sneak under the covers. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I don’t know what’s on my mind.”

“Well, OK. Are you confused about something?”

“Are you?”

“What? Danny, I don’t understand…” I see the way he’s looking at me and I realize what he means. He wants me to know he knows about Theresa and Carmen. “I won’t apologize for that.” I want him to know that it was no one’s decision but mine to make that call. “They nearly killed you. Who’s to say they wouldn’t try it again? I wasn’t going to allow that to happen. And I’m tired of running. We are never running from anything or anyone ever again.”

“You have no idea what you did, do you?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong, Danny. I protected you. You would have done it for me. Carmen and I knew there was no other way. We had to do it before they got to you. We had information that Jimmy was looking for you. He wanted to finish the job, Danny. I couldn’t let that happen. All I had to do was make the call when everything was set. It was just a call.”

“It was hit.”

“It was saving your life.”

I slide from his grasp and walk around what will one day be our bedroom. The place where we’ll conceive our other children and make love to each other night after night. I hear him sigh his frustration and then I hear him crying. He’s sitting in the middle of the floor, wrapped in a blanket, crying. He’s got his face buried in his hands but I see his shoulders bobbing up and down. I go back to him and hug him. “I was saving your life, Danny.”

He looks up at me with tear-filled eyes. “I know,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

“I would have done it myself if I had to. I would have pulled the trigger myself to protect you.” Tears begin to fall down my cheeks when I realize just how powerful our love is for each other. I would actually kill for him. I would. And I know he would for me.

“Do you understand what’s happened here? Do you see the irony of it all?”

I wipe his tears and lean down to kiss him. I want to make him understand how much I love him. I want him to show me he understands all of this. I reach down and put his hands over my breast, then lean down to kiss his neck. “Shhhh,” I say, finally reaching his lips. “Just let me love you.” I slowly push him down on the pile of blankets and begin unbuttoning his shirt, covering each newly-revealed piece of skin with my lips. He buries his hands in my hair and pulls my head away from him when I nearly reach his manhood. He’s forcing me to look at him. We’re both crying.

“Michelle,” he says softly. “Because of you my hands are clean. Because of me, yours aren’t. Do you see what I’ve done to you? My God, what are we doing to each other?”

I stare into his eyes. Those eyes that hypnotized me the very first time he looked at me. The eyes that burned through me with desire all of those months I tried to fight him. Those eyes that made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world when he made love to me for the first time. The eyes that look so adoringly at our daughter. Those eyes that can see into my soul.

I begin my trail of love again as I place soft kisses down his stomach towards his waist, where I undo his belt and open his pants. I never leave his stare as I continue my journey. He helps me as I crawl back up to lie on top of him and finally guide him inside of me, where I so desperately need him to be right now. Through it all, our eyes never leave each other. I slowly rotate my hips, feeling him go deeper and deeper inside of me. I push his hands over his head and clasps my hands with his. “What are we doing to each other Michelle?” he repeats, his voice a husky desperate whisper. I lower my head and kiss him with so much passion that he reciprocates.

“Loving each other the only way we know how,” I whisper against his lips as our love making nears its peek. My tears return as I feel him explode deep within me just as my own climax attacks my body. “That’s all,” I cry, collapsing against his chest. “Loving each other.”

The Story of Manny Chapter 29

Republisher’s Note: Things are settling down for Manny.

Extraordinary

February 2002

Today is full of milestones. Michelle and I were married three years ago today. I think we’re the only couple who celebrates three wedding anniversaries. But then again, there aren’t too many couples like us. Ordinary has never described what we have. This date is always the most special to me, the day we exchanged vows in that smoky justice of the peace’s office in the middle of the night. I know it sounds strange. But it was then that I realized I loved Michelle Bauer. I realized I would do anything — give up my life, risk my life, go against my family and everything I was raised to believe — I would do anything for her. I had no idea why at that time. She was a bratty little girl who had killed my brother. But from the moment we first locked eyes something was different about us. Some unexplainable force drew us together. Meeting Michelle changed my life and as unbelievable as it sounds, that night we eloped, I knew we would be forever.

I’m sitting on the edge of our bed in our very own bedroom in our very own house. We’ve been in here since last Christmas, a few weeks after I found out Michelle and my mother worked together to off Theresa . Since that day at Laurel Falls we never talked about it again. It’s like we pretend it never happened. Just like we pretend Mick never happened. One of these days we’ll have to discuss it, I know. We can’t keep these kinds of issues silent forever. But for now, the silence is good. For once in our lives we have no drama to deal with, no obstacles to overcome. Our biggest problems are things like containing our 17-month-year-old daughter who’s a bundle of energy from the top of her head covered with long, light brown curls to the bottom of her tiny feet, feet that now are more often running through every inch of our house. And problems like putting the finishing touches on our home with a few curbs such as a broken pipe in our kitchen sink or unwelcome munching on our yard by our Laurel Falls furry neighbors. This house. Our house. Michelle has been meticulous about decorating this house. The sofa in the living room cost more than the down payment on this land. I don’t even want to think about how much the armoire in this room cost me. Thank God I’ve turned things around at SanCorp. Our bank account has finally fallen off the list of worries. For the first time since we’ve been married I feel like I am giving Michelle the life she deserves.

I chuckle to myself as I run my fingers through my mangled mess on the top of my head. It’s early and I need a shower and coffee, but the sound of my daughter’s voice always makes me happy. I can hear Camille shouting at the top of her lungs and then I hear a frustrated Michelle hollering after her. “Boooz coooz!!! Mama! Booozzz….”

“Camille Danielle Santos. Come back here with that tape! Camille!”

I feel bad for laughing when I hear a loud bang and then crying. I pull on a T-shirt and robe and head downstairs where I find Camille sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, crying as she holds a video tape in one hand and a half-eaten granola bar in the other. A sippy cup filled with milk is tipped over beside her, spilling out onto the floor. Michelle, looking tired and angry, is sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar. I go to her, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head. “Good morning, sexy.” I rub her shoulders quickly before heading to Camille, who is doing what she does best these days — throwing a temper tantrum.

“Dadddddy! Booz cooooz…” she holds out her arms and with all the dramatic flare a toddler can muster, she runs to me.

“She wants to watch Blues Clues but she won’t eat. She’s been crying for that stupid dog since 5:30 this morning,” Michelle says, nearly in tears herself. With crying daughter in hand, I pick up the cup, clean the mess and head to the refrigerator where I retrieve a fresh sippy cup filled with milk. Camille immediately takes the cup and leans her head on my shoulder as she sips, tears still falling from eyes only dwarfed by her mother’s. I sit next to Michelle and reach out to caress her face. She’s exhausted. The past few weeks have been tough with a hyperactive Camille, her thesis, my long hours and the new pregnancy. Morning sickness is showing Michelle no mercy the second time around. I pull a tiny wrapped box from my robe pocket and slide it in front of her.

“Happy anniversary.”

She looks at me and her frown slowly turns into a smile. “Thank you,” she whispers. Camille settles in my lap, steadily sipping on the milk as she watches Michelle open the package.

“Soopize for Millie?” The baby reaches out to claim the gift, but I quickly pull her back to me.

“Nooooo, this surprise is for Mama.” Michelle glances over at me with tears in her eyes when she sees the platinum and diamond ring set. The marquis-shaped diamond is surrounded by two smaller stones and a three-tier band, each one engraved with our wedding dates.

“It’s beautiful. It’s so big, Danny. My God!” She kisses me quickly as she slips it over the simple gold band. “This must have cost a fortune.”

“Not as much as that sofa,” I joke as I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it. “You know you’re worth all the diamonds in the world. I’m sorry this little ball of energy has been playing miss diva lately. I wonder from which parent she’s inherited such sassiness?”

“She’s just so stubborn!” Michelle messes Camille’s curls, causing her to giggle. “And it’s been a long few weeks. I’m just glad you’re home today.”

“Me too. I’m sorry I haven’t been around a lot lately.”

“It’s OK. I understand. You had to get everything set before Carmen was released.”

“Today’s the day, you know?” Camille’s singing is nearly outpowering our conversation. She turns the cup upside down, dripping cold milk on my leg, which sets her into another fit of giggles. Without stopping my sentence, I turn it right side up, and flash her a stern look. “Are you OK with everything?”

“I’ve told you a hundred times Danny, Carmen and I have worked past our differences. I don’t ever want to go back to the way it was before. I just want to work on having a nice, normal family.” She’s rubbing her stomach as she walks to the stove and pulls out a skillet.

“Let me do that. I’ll make breakfast. You go relax. I’ll bring you a nice big cheese omelet with mushrooms and green peppers just like you like…” Before I can finish she’s bolted for the bathroom. I can hear her vomiting and then the flushing toilet. Camille is again crying for Blues Clues as she shakes her milk. “Would you stop that?” I grab the cup and toss it into the sink. “Michelle? Are you all right?” I yell for her as I take Camille to the den, place her in a play pen and turn on that ridiculous blue dog she’s been crying for. Before the opening credits are over Michelle is by my side with Camille’s breakfast in hand.

“Yeah, I’m OK. Just our normal morning ritual,” she says drumming her hand on her bulging stomach. “Try to get her to eat this oatmeal, please? I am going to try to get some reading in before the caterer arrives.” I take the plastic bowl from her. “Thanks for the omelet offer but I think I’ll pass.”

“Michelle?” I pull her to me before she can leave. “Why don’t you crawl back into bed. You’re exhausted, honey.” I don’t know why I ever agreed to allow her to throw this party for my mother. I appreciate the thought, but with her school work, Camille and this baby she’s been pushing herself way too hard. I lower my head and give her the look I know she can’t resist. “Please?”

“Will you crawl in next to me?” Now she’s giving me the look she knows I can’t resist.

“Let me feed this little monster and I’ll be right up, OK?” I kiss her ever so softly before our daughter let’s us know she’s now ready to eat. Our lips are separated by giggles. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too. I’m so happy that we finally have this. It’s more than we dreamed about.” She looks around the room and then down at the ring I just gave her. I’m sitting next to Camille’s play pen, feeding her spoonfuls of oatmeal in between her loud singing, giggling and broken sentences. I swear she’s going to be a performer. She was talking before she walked and once she learned to do that she never stopped running. Thanks to Blues Clues and his buddy Barney, our daughter’s newest passion is singing. Musical babbling is more like it, but whatever Camille chooses to project from her mouth, it’s loud and seemingly never-ending. I bring her

into my lap, a move I regret immediately. Michelle giggles when a spoonful of oatmeal ends up on my shirt. “Even this little one is more than I imagined.” She kisses Camille’s head before sitting on my lap, next to our daughter who is snuggled against my chest, sucking sleepily on her milk.

“Well, I think we deserve a little bit of the good life, don’t you think?”

“At least we’re not boring.”

“That we will never be,” I say as I wipe my shirt with a napkin. Michelle hugs my neck with her arms. The way she’s leaning back I can see my baby bulging under her night gown. I hold Camille with one hand and caress Michelle’s abdomen with the other. “Has he settled down?”

“Yeah, I’m all right.” She places her hand over mine, the ring shining as bright as the sunshine outside. “She’s falling asleep. I can’t believe it’s been three years since that night.”

“Me either.”

“You know, a little bit of me wanted you even then.”

“Yeah, right!”

“I did! I don’t know why, but from the first time I saw you, there was this…this…this chemistry, I guess. But when you pulled me out of that icy water and dragged me to get eloped, I knew I trusted you. And I knew you were special. You were giving up everything for me. I saw your soul and in there was so much goodness. What you did for me that night was no small thing, Daniel. You saved my life and you opened my eyes to the beginning of the deepest kind of love. You made a choice to let me into your soul and suddenly that chemistry was something more. I honestly began falling in love with you that night.”

“Well you sure had a funny way of showing it, Mrs. Santos.” I can’t help but rub her stomach in a circular motion. She’s tenderly raking her fingers through Camille’s soft curls.

“I’d say we figured things out OK, wouldn’t you? We created these two miracles.”

“Yeah, we did.”

“Everything about us is a miracle.” She’s leaning her head on my shoulder and I can tell by the sound of her voice that she, too, is falling asleep.

“Yes, it is,” I whisper as I clutch the most important people in my life. I hold my darling wife and my darling daughter and rub my unborn son and thank God for giving me that night three years ago. And every single moment I’ve had since then. Even the bad times. Because those times have allowed me to appreciate times like these that much more. Today is full of milestones. But I vow that all of our tomorrows are going to be filled with so much more.

The Story of Manny Chapter 27

Republisher’s Note: Danny makes a horrible discovery today.

The Power of Love

I’m lying here on the sofa in the Bauer living room watching Michelle change Camille. She’s getting so big and active — her chubby little legs and arms are flying every which way as Michelle deals with a very stinky diaper. I can’t help but chuckle at the site. Michelle shoots me a look that’s showing both amusement and frustration. Our five-month-old is quite a handful.

“Don’t laugh. I’ll make you come down here and take care of this.” I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how beautiful they are.

“Hey, I’m incapacitated remember? I can’t do any manual labor for another two weeks.” I can joke about my condition now that I’m out of that miserable hospital. Theresa’s little plan nearly killed me. I was in intensive care for three weeks before moving to a regular bed and finally coming home a few days ago. My injuries are nearly healed. I’m still a little sore and I’m weaker than usual. Rick says I’m not doing half bad for a man who had his brain nearly crushed and then drilled into by a neurosurgeon.

“Since when is changing a poopy diaper manual labor?” Michelle secures the little tabs, pulls Camille’s purple pants over her bottom and latches her to her hip. Camille immediately grabs a fistful of Michelle’s curls. “Huh, mister?” She joins me on the sofa, placing Camille in my arms. I immediately begin tickling her feet and her legs, causing her to giggle loudly.

“With her it is. Look at how she’s kicking these little legs. Look how dangerous she is.” I pretend to dodge her baby kicks. “I don’t want to end back up in ICU you know.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” Michelle straightens my blanket. “I don’t even want to think about that. The whole ordeal is a chapter of our lives I want to close forever.”

I see the sadness in her eyes and I realize just how scared she’s been. “I’m sorry,” I say, reaching up to cup her face in my hand. “I’m sorry for everything. I never wanted your life to be like this.” Michelle scoops Camille in her arms and sits her up on her lap.

“Don’t ever apologize for giving me your love and this precious little girl. Ever. Besides none of this was your fault. You were trying to protect me, you were trying to make me happy and look where it got you. Nearly dead. No one will ever try to take you away from me ever again.”

Michelle’s eyes are so intense and her voice is almost cold. I’ve never heard her speak this way. There’s an awkward silence between us before Camille begins babbling loudly, gaining both of our attention. “See, she’s saying Daddy. Listen to her!”

“Danny she is not saying Daddy. She’s just babbling. All babies say da-da when they babble. It’s one of the first sounds they learn to make.”

“I don’t care what your medical books say. She’s saying Daddy, huh? Aren’t you baby?” I glide my fingers through her silky little curls. She’s an absolute miracle and I realize that more than ever when she looks up at me with those big chocolate eyes and gives me a huge grin.

“OK Daddy. How about you hold this little genius while I go get your medicine and some lunch for my two angels?” Michelle kisses my forehead and hands me Camille. My ribs are still a bit sore and I wince a bit when I try to sit up too fast to hold the baby, worrying Michelle. “Will you be all right?”

“Yeah. We’re OK. Just a little sore.” She adjusts some pillows at my side then hands me a stuffed toy before disappearing into the kitchen. I watch to make sure she’s out of sight before reaching for the phone. “Pilar. It’s Danny. Did you do what I asked you to do? No one knows, right? Great. No one can know, all right? No one. Especially Michelle. Thanks. I’ll talk to you at the christening tomorrow. I love you, too. Bye.”

“Keeping secrets from your wife is not a good idea, Daniel.” I look up to see uncle Manuel and aunt Isabela in the doorway. Isabela comes immediately for the baby, hugging and kissing her all over.

“I’m not keeping any secrets. Come on in and close the door. It’s chilly out there.” Manuel sits across from me.

“How are you feeling, son?”

“I’m doing just fine. How are you two adjusting to life at Casa Santos?”

“Oh the house is so huge. Your mother obviously hasn’t lost her taste for fine things. I hope she doesn’t mind my changes when she returns. I cannot wait for you all to come over for Thanksgiving dinner,” Isabela says as she sits next to me and rubs my head. “Your hair is coming back nicely. You won’t even see the scar when all of those gorgeous curls come back.” I smile and playfully slap her hand away.

“I’m kinda liking this buzz cut. Looks sort of militant. What do you think, Manuel?”

“Don’t try to change the subject, Daniel. What are you up to?” Manuel knows me as well as anyone. He won’t give up until I spill it. “What are you hiding from Michelle?”

“Who’s hiding something from me?” Michelle emerges from the kitchen carrying a tray. “I thought I heard voices.” She sets the tray down and kisses Manuel and Isabela before sitting on the edge of the coffee table in front of me. “Who’s keeping secrets?” She raises an eyebrow to let me know that I have no choice but to tell.

“For God’s sake, I am not keeping a secret. It’s a surprise. There’s a difference, you know?”

“A surprise? What’s the surprise?” Michelle is kneeling in front of me now, wrapping her arms around my neck and showering my face with kisses. “Hmmm?”

“I’m not telling!” I laugh at her attempt to seduce me into spilling my guts. “You can rape me and I won’t tell.”

“Danny!” Michelle playfully hits my arm. “Don’t talk like that in front of your family.”

“Well he is obviously feeling better,” Manuel says smiling. “Maybe we’ll have a hermano or hermana for this little darling soon?”

Michelle settles on my lap and I hold her tightly. “Maybe,” I say as I kiss her cheek.

“I think we need to get you well before we think about more babies. And get this one out of diapers, you know those stinky little things you seem to want to forget about? Open.” Michelle drops two pills in my mouth and holds a straw against my lips. “Abby’s homemade vegetable soup?” She gets down from my lap and sets the tray up for my feasting. She’s been so good to me. She’ll make a great doctor one day.

“We saw Ray today,” Isabela says. “He says everything is set for Camille’s baptism tomorrow. Is there anything we can do here?”

“No, you two have been so good to us already. I don’t know how we can ever thank you,” Michelle says as she hands my aunt Camille’s bottle. “We owe you our lives.”

“We are family. Family is everything, right Daniel?” Manuel looks so much like my father that sometimes it gives me a weird feeling, a feeling like I’m seeing a ghost. Manuel has been talking to me lately about forgiving my mother. About trying to get past what she did and allowing her to try to rebuild a relationship with me and my daughter, even Michelle. I thought for sure that Michelle would fight this idea, but she’s actually been surprisingly supportive. She seems to think that jail will do Carmen good and that we have a good chance for a somewhat normal life once she’s released. I don’t know why, but I see a new bond between the two of them now. Maybe it’s because of Camille. Maybe it’s because I nearly died. Who knows? I shouldn’t be surprised. Michelle is one of the most amazing people in the world; if anyone can forgive my mother, it’s Michelle.

“Right,” I say softly.

“Things are going well with the transition. There will be much work waiting for you at SanCorp when you are well, son. I hope they left enough of your brain in tact to run a multimillion dollar corporation.” My laughter causes Michelle to glare in my direction.

“What is it with you men and joking about that?”

“Sorry,” Manuel says through his own laughter. “We’re all glad Daniel is fine.” He’s rubbing my head with the palm of his hands. “Thank God this boy had enough smarts to spare.” We burst out laughing again before Michelle waves her hands in frustration.

“I don’t understand it.” She sits next to Isabela with a bowl of cereal for Camille. “I’ve told him a million times it’s not funny.”

“That’s just how they’ve always been. They deal with serious things with humor,” Isabela wipes the baby’s face after each spoonful. “She’s growing so fast. I can’t believe she’s eating cereal already.”

“I know. Rick says she’s actually ahead of most babies her age. She’s sitting up a bit already and she’s babbling like crazy. Danny swears she says daddy.”

I should be eating but all I can do is stare at Michelle and Camille and thank God I’m here to see this. Even something as simple as my wife feeding my daughter lunch is so amazing to me. I will never take anything for granted again. We’ve fought like hell to be together and stay together. I’m going to make sure our lives are worth it. My thoughts are broken by Manuel’s strong hand on my shoulder.

“So are you going to let me in on this big surprise?”

“Not a word,” I whisper.

“Cross my heart.”

“Remember I told you that Michelle and I had some land out near Laurel Falls and we planned to build a house there?”

“Yes. That’s where you got married for what the third time?”

“Yeah, the third time,” I say through a huge smile. “Well, when we first arrived in Springfield all those weeks ago I had the contractor resume construction. We should be able to do a walk through tomorrow after the service.”

“That’s great, son. I’m sure she will love that.”

“I know she will. Whenever things were really bad, we would talk about that house and all of our plans for it. We thought we would never have the chance to make them reality, you know?”

“You two have been through a lot.”

“I just hope it’s finally over. Completely over. God knows where Theresa is and when she’ll decide to pop up to cause trouble.”

“Danny, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”

“About what?”

“Theresa.”

“What about her?”

“She and Jimmy Montoya were found dead about two weeks after you were brought to Cedars. I can’t prove it but it appears to be the work of your mother’s men.”

“She ordered a hit from prison?”

“Someone ordered a hit,” Manuel says looking intensely at Michelle who is busy speaking to Isabela.

“What about Bernard? He’s been with us but this must change everything.” I’m suddenly panicked. Bernard is a good guy but he is one of us. Theresa was his blood. I’m not so sure he could let that one go.

“Bernard has been dealt with,” Manuel whispers. “Your mother apparently had something on him. He can’t do anything.”

“Shit,” I mutter as I drop my spoon. Suddenly my appetite is gone. “Theresa and Jimmy are dead?” As I finish the sentence Michelle looks over at me with concerned eyes. She’s by my side before I can let the thought digest.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t know how you would take it and your condition was so fragile. Danny, I know you once had feelings for her and I didn’t want to hurt you…” She’s stroking the side of my face. “Are you OK?”

I look into her eyes and I see that there is no sympathy there. There is something very cold and different there. I reach up and hold her hand in mine. “I’m fine,” I whisper.

“She tried to kill you, Danny. They both tried to kill you. They almost did.”

“I just don’t understand how Mama could set this whole thing up from prison. She must have had help and the business has been dismantling for weeks. Who?”

Michelle kisses my hand and then squeezes it tightly. I look at her face and immediately I know.

No.

This cannot be happening.

“My God, Michelle.”

The Story of Manny Chapter 26

Republisher’s Note: Michelle returns from telling Carmen that Danny was still alive and in trouble.

“Michelle, you are exhausted sweetie. Please go lie down.” Abby is being so sweet to me. She took such good care of Camille while I was visiting with Carmen. I don’t know why Rick and Abby haven’t had a baby of their own yet. They are both such good people. They would be excellent parents. It’s after midnight and I haven’t slept for three days but I cannot rest until I know Danny is safe. I know I should. I know I should eat and I should sleep but I just cannot bring myself to do it. Every word of the conversation I had with Carmen is flying through my mind. For once in all the time I’ve known her, I absolutely trust her. Her men are on it already. Juan and Manuel are with them looking for Theresa as we speak. “Michelle, baby, can you hear me?”

“I’m sorry, Abby. I am going to check on the baby and then I will lie down. I promise.” I slowly get up off of the couch and make my way upstairs to my daughter. She’s sleeping soundly in my old crib in the room where Danny and I conceived her. She is getting so big and she’s got so much hair. I smile as I reach down and run my fingers through her silky curls. God, she looks so much like Danny. So much like him. I gently reach down and pick her up. I want to hold her, I want to feel her close to me. She stirs just a bit but settles against the spot on my chest where she has laid so many times before. I sigh as I bury my nose against my baby and close my eyes. “Everything’s going to be all right baby. Everything will be just fine. Mama promises you that. Daddy will be OK. I know he will be.” I jump when the phone shrieks out. I place Camille back in her crib and run downstairs where Abby is speaking in quick, hushed tones. I stand on the last step, waiting for her to tell me. My heart is pounding. My eyes are tearing. My throat is collapsing, making it impossible to speak. She hangs up the phone and looks up at me with tear-stained eyes.

“That was Cedars. Danny’s there.”

I lift a trembling hand to my mouth to muzzle an escaping cry. “And?”

“Rick says we need to get down there.” She searching for her keys.

“How is he, Abby?”

“Sweetie, go get the baby and let’s go. I’ll call Blake from the car and ask her to meet us there. She can look after Camille.”

“Abby, how is my husband?!” My shouting scares her.

“He’s in surgery right now. Rick said it’s very bad.”

~~~

The ride to the hospital seemed to take forever. Camille never stirred throughout the whole ordeal. She never cried until we stepped into the emergency room. It was like she sensed the fear and the pain there because she immediately began to wail. I quickly untied her hat and unzipped her coat as I rushed to the nurse’s station. Lillian was waiting for us. She immediately took us to the trauma waiting room. “Sit down, sweetie.”

“Lillian, where is he?” I am still crying. I refuse to sit. I will not calm down until I know he’s OK.

“He’s still in surgery. He was beaten very badly, honey. He’s had these injuries for several days now. There was some internal bleeding, some infection…” Hearing her say these words over the screaming of my daughter is almost too much for me to handle and I nearly collapse before Abby and Lillian steady me. They force me to sit down and Abby takes Camille from my arms. Lillian sits across from me and takes my hand. “He was dropped off here about an hour ago. No one knows how he got here. He was unconscious but he woke up for a bit.”

“Was he in pain?” I cannot bear the thought of Danny in pain. I know he is a strong man. I know he is able to handle more than most people can only imagine but I also know the way the “business” works.

“Yes, honey. He was in some pain. He was very badly injured.” I let out a loud cry as the sobs catch in my chest. She squeezes my hands and pushes some stray hair behind my ears. “He wanted me to tell you how much he loved you.”

Before she can go on, an exhausted looking Rick enters the room, wearing sweaty scrubs. I rush to him and fall into his arms. He is Danny’s doctor, but right now he is my brother. He holds me tightly and his silence frightens me terribly. Rick leads me back to a chair and sits down beside me. Abby sits on the other side of me, holding Camille who is sucking on a bottle and falling back to sleep. “He’s out of surgery,” Rick says softly. “He’s being sent down to ICU right now. There was a lot of bleeding. We’re not sure yet how much damage there was. We’ll have to wait and see. He had a collapsed lung, several broken ribs and severe head trauma.” I am studying every detail of my brother’s face. I can tell when he is trying to hide the truth. He is not telling me everything. My eyes question further. “There was some bleeding in the brain, Michelle.” I bury my head in his chest and sob. He holds my face in his hands, forcing me to look at him. “We’ve got all of the bleeding stopped for now. He’s stable. Danny is a strong man, honey. He’s got a long way to go but I’m sure he’ll pull through this all right.”

“Can I see him?”

“He doesn’t look like Danny, honey. You’ve got to be prepared for what you are going to see.”

“I just want to see him. Please?”

“For a few minutes and then I want you to get some rest. You need to be strong for him.” He stands, reaches for my hand and leads me down the hall to the intensive care unit. Even though my husband is suffering, I can’t help but feel excitement. As much as it pains me to know he is hurt, it feels so damned good to know he is alive.

The room is dark, illuminated only by the green lights of all of the machines to which Danny is hooked up. My own heart speeds up when I hear the steady beeping of the monitor. The tears return when I hear the pumping of the ventilator. I didn’t expect a ventilator. I didn’t expect it to be this bad. “We want to give him a chance to rest. So we’re helping him breathe,” Rick says softly as he leads me inside. The first part of him I see are his feet, bumps underneath the white covers. My eyes travel upwards and I nearly collapse again when I see his battered body completely masked by tubes and machines. His beautiful face, my Danny’s beautiful perfect face, is a bruised, swollen mess. Rick helps me sit in a chair next to my husband, who is lying so still. “Five minutes. Five minutes and then I am coming to take you home.” He places a quick kiss on the top of my head and leaves me alone with Danny.

I slowly reach out and pick up his left hand. I am careful not to disturb the IV. His fingers lay flat against my palm, he’s unresponsive to my touch. I glide my finger over the white line marking the place of his wedding ring. Gently, I kiss his knuckles then hold his hand to my face. I want to feel his skin next to mine. I want to smell him. I let out a sigh of both relief and pain. It’s so hard to see him like this. “Hi baby. Danny, it’s me, baby. It’s Michelle.” I’m looking at his face, expecting him to open his beautiful brown eyes and smile at me like he always does. I’m expecting him to tell me that he loves me and that I’m beautiful. Every single day, he’s said that to me. I carefully stroke his forehead. “You have to get better soon, OK? You have to get strong for me and for Camille. We miss you and love you so much.” I stare at the heart monitor with tear-filled eyes and watch the green rhythm dance across the screen. “I’m going to take good care of you, all right? I’m going to make sure you are back to normal before you know it.” My tears are falling on his arm so I gently dry them before taking his hand again. “I love you so much. So, so much.” At first I think I’m imagining it, but when I look down I see that it is real. Danny is squeezing my hand. I smile through my tears and place our clasped hands over my own heart. “We’re going to be OK. Everything is going to be just fine.”

The Story of Manny Chapter 25

Republisher’s Note: Danny is found and taken to Cedars.

Reunion

There is so much noise around me. It’s chaos: screaming, crashing, sirens, ringing phones. The light is so bright compared to where I was before. I can’t really open my eyes but I can see the bright white lights and the blurry images of people hurrying around me. I am so confused, my mind is fighting to stay focused but it’s hard with all of the pain. Plus I feel weak, I feel so very weak and tired. I feel myself being pushed quickly through this noisy place…I think I’m on a stretcher. I think I am in a hospital. My suspicion is confirmed when I hear Rick’s voice. He is yelling for someone to order a CAT scan and to call the trauma surgeon. Then I hear him tell a nurse to call Michelle. Michelle. Just the sound of her name makes my heart nearly stop. I need to make sure she’s OK. I need to make sure she and Camille are all right. I try to sit up but the pain stops me, and then a million hands come pushing me back down. They are sticking and poking at me all over, every bit of which is torture. I reach out for Rick, who is trying to slide some kind of tube down my throat. “Michelle…”I mumble.

“We’re calling Michelle, Danny. Don’t worry. We’ll get her for you, all right. Just relax. I’m going to put this tube down your throat to check for internal bleeding. I need you to be still. It won’t hurt, it will just be uncomfortable.” He’s actually squeezing my hand. My God I must be dying. Rick Bauer is comforting me. “I’ll take good care of you, buddy. I owe you my sister’s life.”

Rick lets go of my hand and performs the test, which I take comes out with bad results when he hurriedly removes the tube and begins shouting orders. I am awake, but I am growing weaker by the second. I can barely breathe and each time I inhale I feel like someone is crushing my lungs. I manage a few words: “Rick…Michelle. Please…protect her…”

“Michelle is fine. Danny, you are bleeding internally. We are going to have to give you some blood and then take you into surgery. One of your lungs is collapsed and you have some broken ribs. I am going to give you some oxygen so you can breathe better, all right? As soon as we can get you stabilized we are going to put you to sleep and take you into the OR. You will be fine, all right man? Just hang in there. My sister and that beautiful baby girl need you.” I nod my head as a woman places an oxygen mask carefully over my battered face and another woman begins cleaning my wounds. They are cutting my clothes off when I hear Rick mutter something to a tall man who rushed into the cubicle. He is worried, I can hear it in his voice.

As oxygen begins filling my lungs, I actually feel even more pain, which is obviously showing in my face. One of the nurses is holding my hand, trying to comfort me. She is blonde and beautiful and her voice reminds me of my Michelle. “We’ll try to get you something for the pain real soon, OK? Just try to take slow breaths, all right sweetheart? Nice and slow.” She is sitting on a stool next to me, stroking my hand as the others work feverishly to mend my broken body. “Dr. Bauer tells me you have a baby girl. If she’s anything like Michelle was when she was a baby, she is absolutely gorgeous.” I slowly nod my head and despite the tremendous pain, a small smile crosses my face. She is smiling back at me making me feel safe with her. Suddenly, I feel a cold object piercing my skin near my side. I squeeze her hand tightly, responding to the pain. I mumble my apologies when I realize I am hurting her, but she tells me it’s OK. “It’s OK baby, squeeze my hand all you want. I know this hurts. They are putting in a tube to drain some of the fluid from inside of you.” She strokes my head until the tube is completely inserted. “My name is Lillian. I’ve known Michelle since she was tiny. She’s told me how much she loves you. She would want me to be here with you right now. She would want me to remind you how much she loves you, Danny.” I reach my shaking hand up to remove the oxygen mask and she immediately tries to stop me.

“Tell her…please…tell her I love her, too. Please?” She replaces the mask and resumes stroking my hand.

“I will tell her sweetheart. I’ll tell her how much you love her.” Her eyes are warm and gentle and there is so much compassion in her voice. I don’t know why but I find myself focusing on her eyes and pretending they are Michelle’s. It’s getting harder and harder to breathe. I begin slipping back out of consciousness, but not before I hear Rick’s words rumble in my brain.

“Call my sister now. Tell her he’s extremely critical.”

The Story of Manny Chapter 24

Republisher’s Note: Michelle is desperate to save Danny so she has only one person to go to.

I didn’t think being back in this place would affect me so much. Maybe it’s because I am physically and emotionally exhausted. Maybe it’s because I know this is going to be so hard to do. A chill travels down my spine when the guard unlocks the door and leads me down the hall towards the visiting area. Everything is rushing back to me: the noise, the smell, the cold, musty air, the feeling of despair. I never thought I would see the state penitentiary again. I get an intense flashback of the day Danny broke me out of here. I remember the blood, the desperation in his voice. I remember the sick feeling I had not only from my baby growing inside of me, but from the fake scene of my husband’s death. It was a scene I didn’t, and still don’t, ever want to see. I wipe away a few tears as I sit in the metal chair, waiting for Carmen to be brought to the other side of the glass cubicle.

I see her from a distance being led down the hall, shackled. The woman who was once never seen without her make-up or expensive Italian suits was just another pale number in a jail jumpsuit. It’s funny. The first thought that crosses my mind when she sits before me, stunned, is how much older she looks. She’s aged tremendously since I’ve last seen her. She doesn’t even know she’s a grandmother. There’s so much she doesn’t know.

“Michelle…” Her voice says all I need to know. She has no idea what is going on. To her, she is seeing a ghost.

“Carmen.”

“How in the world…”

“We faked it. Danny got Bernard to help us fake the murder so we could get out of here.”

“Danny…he’s alive? My son is alive?” She’s crying. As much as I want to hate her, I know how she feels. I’m a mother now and I would never want to go through what she has, thinking her son was dead. In a weird kind of way, I am even more sorry for what happened to Mick. I sort of understand all of her hatred towards me for hurting her child. Then I remember her words: “My son is alive?” I immediately begin to cry when I remember the phone call in Mexico — Manuel tearfully telling me that my husband, my best friend and soulmate was found beaten to death.

“No! He’s not dead,” I say, not only for her benefit, but for mine. “He is not dead.”

“Oh gracias mi Dios! Thank God. I thought I had lost both of my sons. I thought I had lost everything…”

I wipe the tears away and pull the picture of Danny, Camille and me from my purse. It’s the one we took before he left Mexico for Springfield all those weeks ago. I press the photo against the glass. “This is Camille. This is your granddaughter.” Carmen tearfully looks at the picture, then at me with questioning eyes before touching her hand to the photo. “No one knew, but I was pregnant with her when I was sentenced. We had her 12 weeks ago in Mexico, at Danny’s father’s family’s house. She’s beautiful. Carmen, she’s everything to Danny.”

“Michelle…I don’t know what to say…” I see regret in Carmen’s eyes, along with genuine love for her son and granddaughter.

“Danny’s in trouble, Carmen. You know what our quote-unquote deaths did to the businesses. Things were in chaos. Eventually, Theresa and Nino figured out that Bernard helped us and they came after us. They wanted revenge for Danny setting up their family to take the fall from you and the others. That’s why we were in Mexico. We were running from them when we found out what really happened regarding Ben’s death. I wanted to come home. I wanted our life back. So Danny came back to Springfield several weeks ago to try to strike a deal so we could do that without danger. I got a call two days ago from his uncle Manuel.” My voice cracks with emotion. I have not ever said this out-loud before and suddenly I realize how truly frightening it all is. “Manuel called to tell me that Danny had been found murdered, that they had killed him.”

“I don’t understand. You said he was alive…Michelle, where is my son?”

We are both crying uncontrollably now. “We got on a plane and came here. I came home to identify the body. Carmen, it wasn’t him. Danny wasn’t in that body bag. He is not dead. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I know if he were dead I would be too. I know he is in trouble. That’s why I came here. You have have to help me find him. I know you must still have connections, even from inside here. You have to help me save Danny…”

Carmen lifts a shaking, thin hand and presses it against the glass. I reach out, slowly, and press my own hand against hers. “We will find my son. We will find my son alive and bring him back to his family. And so help me God, when we find out who did this to him they will be sorry they were ever born.”

The Story of Manny Chapter 23

Republisher’s Note: Michelle is pushed to a dangerous plan.

I didn’t think being back in this place would affect me so much. Maybe it’s because I am physically and emotionally exhausted. Maybe it’s because I know this is going to be so hard to do. A chill travels down my spine when the guard unlocks the door and leads me down the hall towards the visiting area. Everything is rushing back to me: the noise, the smell, the cold, musty air, the feeling of despair. I never thought I would see the state penitentiary again. I get an intense flashback of the day Danny broke me out of here. I remember the blood, the desperation in his voice. I remember the sick feeling I had not only from my baby growing inside of me, but from the fake scene of my husband’s death. It was a scene I didn’t, and still don’t, ever want to see. I wipe away a few tears as I sit in the metal chair, waiting for Carmen to be brought to the other side of the glass cubicle.

I see her from a distance being led down the hall, shackled. The woman who was once never seen without her make-up or expensive Italian suits was just another pale number in a jail jumpsuit. It’s funny. The first thought that crosses my mind when she sits before me, stunned, is how much older she looks. She’s aged tremendously since I’ve last seen her. She doesn’t even know she’s a grandmother. There’s so much she doesn’t know.

“Michelle…” Her voice says all I need to know. She has no idea what is going on. To her, she is seeing a ghost.

“Carmen.”

“How in the world…”

“We faked it. Danny got Bernard to help us fake the murder so we could get out of here.”

“Danny…he’s alive? My son is alive?” She’s crying. As much as I want to hate her, I know how she feels. I’m a mother now and I would never want to go through what she has, thinking her son was dead. In a weird kind of way, I am even more sorry for what happened to Mick. I sort of understand all of her hatred towards me for hurting her child. Then I remember her words: “My son is alive?” I immediately begin to cry when I remember the phone call in Mexico — Manuel tearfully telling me that my husband, my best friend and soulmate was found beaten to death.

“No! He’s not dead,” I say, not only for her benefit, but for mine. “He is not dead.”

“Oh gracias mi Dios! Thank God. I thought I had lost both of my sons. I thought I had lost everything…”

I wipe the tears away and pull the picture of Danny, Camille and me from my purse. It’s the one we took before he left Mexico for Springfield all those weeks ago. I press the photo against the glass. “This is Camille. This is your granddaughter.” Carmen tearfully looks at the picture, then at me with questioning eyes before touching her hand to the photo. “No one knew, but I was pregnant with her when I was sentenced. We had her 12 weeks ago in Mexico, at Danny’s father’s family’s house. She’s beautiful. Carmen, she’s everything to Danny.”

“Michelle…I don’t know what to say…” I see regret in Carmen’s eyes, along with genuine love for her son and granddaughter.

“Danny’s in trouble, Carmen. You know what our quote-unquote deaths did to the businesses. Things were in chaos. Eventually, Theresa and Nino figured out that Bernard helped us and they came after us. They wanted revenge for Danny setting up their family to take the fall from you and the others. That’s why we were in Mexico. We were running from them when we found out what really happened regarding Ben’s death. I wanted to come home. I wanted our life back. So Danny came back to Springfield several weeks ago to try to strike a deal so we could do that without danger. I got a call two days ago from his uncle Manuel.” My voice cracks with emotion. I have not ever said this outloud before and suddenly I realize how truly frightening it all is. “Manuel called to tell me that Danny had been found murdered, that they had killed him.”

“I don’t understand. You said he was alive…Michelle, where is my son?”

We are both crying uncontrollably now. “We got on a plane and came here. I came home to identify the body. Carmen, it wasn’t him. Danny wasn’t in that body bag. He is not dead. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I know if he were dead I would be, too. I know he is in trouble. That’s why I came here. You have have to help me find him. I know you must still have connections, even from inside here. You have to help me save Danny…”

Carmen lifts a shaking, thin hand and presses it against the glass. I reach out, slowly, and press my own hand against hers. “We will find my son. We will find my son alive and bring him back to his family. And so help me God, when we find out who did this to him they will be sorry they were ever born.”

The Story of Manny Chapter 22

Republisher’s Note: Danny is somewhere out of his mind. Michelle finally has a thought on what she can do to help.

It’s some time later when I feel something cold lying across my face, then a smooth hand stroking my arm. Michelle? Is it Michelle?

“Danny…Danny, can you hear me?” No! It’s not Michelle. It’s Theresa. She’s holding my hand and she’s crying. “Can you hear me?”

I can’t talk. All I can do is moan. The pain is so intense. I honestly think I’m dying. In a state that’s both delirious and panicked, I reach up to try to remove the ice pack from my eyes but Theresa stops me and tells me to lie still. I can open my eyes slightly, only enough to see a fuzzy Theresa draped over me, dabbing my wounds with a bloodied cloth. I still can’t tell where I am or who’s with me. I hear several voices, all male. “Just lie still, OK? Don’t move.”

“Theresa,” I manage, reaching out for her hand. I’ll admit that I am scared. I’m terrified. Not that I will die. Death would be a welcome escape at this point. But I’m terrified that my wife and daughter are in danger. I have to try to save them. “Theresa…you’ve got to help me. Please…” The cough is back , this time causing me to spit up blood. I am hurt really badly and she knows it. I can hear the fear in her voice when she tells me to stay quiet and lie back. Damn it, she’s got to help me help Michelle! I’m begging her to help me. “Theresa, please…”

***

Rick has been telling me for an hour now how badly I need to sleep. His voice is really just a background of annoyance. I’m curled up on the living room couch, my sleeping daughter draped across my chest, rubbing her tiny head. She’s comforting me more than I am comforting her. I’m staring across the room, focusing on a family portrait of Rick, Dad, mom and me taken before my mother died. I can’t help but stare at her warm eyes and wonder if she’s watching over me now. I’m trying so hard to get that picture of a cold, dead man out of my mind. It could have been Danny. He is someone’s Danny. Someone’s husband. Someone’s son, brother, friend. Maybe he’s someone’s father. Maybe he has a baby girl or baby boy at home who will never see their father. I blink my eyes shut, trying to delete those thoughts. A few silent tears fall onto my cheeks. I am no longer hysterical, just numb. My mind is running a million miles a minute trying to figure out where Danny could be. I know he is hurt, I know he is in serious trouble. I can feel that much. My heart is silently cursing myself for believing even for a second that he was dead. I would know if he were. I would feel it in my soul.

Rick is seated at my feet, soothingly stroking my legs. Abby is sitting on the edge of the coffee table, trying desperately to make me hear Rick. Isabela and Manuel are in the kitchen with Pilar and Juan trying to figure out what the hell happened and who is responsible. I can hear Rick’s voice, but I am not listening to a word he’s saying. My baby stirs slightly against my breast, breaking my trance. I look down at her with tired, burning eyes. I will not let her grow up without her father. I will not allow her to miss out on his love. I will do whatever I have to do to protect her. I chuckle softly to myself when I think of the irony. At this moment the person I relate to the most is not my brother or my father or anyone else in my family. At this very moment I suddenly feel closest to Carmen Santos. I suddenly understand the innate need to protect my child above all reason. I pull Camille down into my arms and look at her peaceful face when it hits me. I know what I have to do.

“Sweetie, why don’t you let us take the baby, you take these sedatives and get some rest. We can call Harley Cooper in the morning and get her on this. We will look for Danny, but right now you need to take care of yourself. Michelle, please listen to me here, honey.” Rick reaches up to dry my cheeks with a tissue. I look into his worried eyes and force a smile. My family has been through so much because of my life with Danny.

“Thank you. Thank you for being here for me,” I say softly. “I would appreciate it if you would take care of Camille for a few hours. Could you do that for me?”

“Of course, of course we can, Michelle,” Abby says, reaching out to take my baby. I make sure her pacifier is in place and she’s still sleeping before finally releasing my hand.

“She’ll want to eat when she wakes up. Trust me, she’ll let you know. She has quite a set of lungs and she’ll start sucking on her little fist. There are some bottles in the refrigerator, you’ll need to warm them. She’s hard to burp, but please please make sure she does or she will get a stomach ache and I don’t want her to go through any more than she has to with this ear infection.” I have never left my baby in her three months. Not even for a few hours. I am trying to remember everything, everything they need to know but it’s so hard with all that’s on my mind. I slap my forehead when I remember her infection. “The ear infection…she’ll need the drops and Tylenol before bed. Her fever is finally staying down, but I want to keep giving her the medicine just to be safe. Her diapers are in my bag upstairs, along with her pajamas and some extra clothes. Please be careful not to wet her ears if you bathe her…”

“Michelle, honey, we can handle it. Just relax and go get some sleep, OK?” Rick is pushing me towards the stairs, but I pull away and head towards the coat closet. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I need to go see someone. I’ll be back in a few hours.” As fast as I put on my jacket, Rick is trying to remove it.

“No way. You need to rest. And have you forgotten that someone is after your husband? God knows if they are after you.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll have Juan drive me.”

“Michelle, you are exhausted and you’re an emotional wreck.” Rick is yelling at me the way he’s done so many times before. I know he’s looking out for my best interest but I have to do this.

“Rick, I will be fine. I cannot — I will not — rest until I find my husband.” He knows by the look in my eyes and the tone in my voice that he is wasting his time by fighting me. “I will be back in a few hours. I’ll have my cell, please call me if you hear anything.”

The Story of Manny Chapter 21

Republisher’s Note: Danny is not dead, but he almost wishes he was.

Help

I can’t see anything because my eyes are swollen shut. The lack of sight is intensifying my other senses — among them the severe pain that is jolting through my entire body. I think some of my ribs are broken; every breath I take is torture. There’s blood continuously dripping from my bruised, swollen lips. My hands are tied painfully behind my back so all I can do is spit it onto the floor. My throat is so dry — I am desperate for water. I think I have been slipping in and out of consciousness because I am growing more and more confused. I don’t really remember what happened to me. I just know that I have to get out of here and save my wife and child. I have to save Michelle. My head is hanging as I fight the urge to slip away again. A painful cough attacks me and I moan as I spit another mouthful of blood onto the ground. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I am almost gone again when I hear Theresa’s voice, muffled by what must be a wall separating us. She sounds upset, really upset. Then I hear a man’s voice. It’s Jimmy Montoya. I’d recognize that voice anywhere. I’m trying so hard to stay focused so I can figure out what’s going on and get the hell out of here. Jimmy is my best friend. Surely he is here to help me.

“You weren’t supposed to hurt him, Jimmy. How could you do this to him? Vito said you nearly killed him!”

“He got out of hand, Theresa. He wasn’t cooperating and we had to slow him down. If we hadn’t, he’d be back in his pretty little wife’s arms right now and you’d be in prison. Is that what you want?”

“Danny says he’ll use that tape against me, but I don’t think he could really go through with it. There has to be another way.” Theresa is crying now. “We can’t…we can’t kill him, Jimmy. We can’t.”

“Don’t grow soft on me now, Theresa. Danny Santos should have been wiped out a long time ago. He’s always been a pain in my ass. He’s done nothing but cause us trouble. Always pretending to be the devoted, loyal son, brother and friend but always out for himself. He’s always thought he was too good for this world. We’re just doing him a favor by taking him out of it.”

Jesus Christ. Jimmy Montoya was supposed to be my best friend. We grew up like brothers. Even after I left the family and married Michelle he supported me and acted like he loved me. I cannot believe this. Everything about my life has been such a goddamn joke. Everything except Michelle.

“We only kept him alive this long to protect you and your little secret. But now that we’ve got the tape we can get rid of him. He deserves it after everything he put you through, baby. He deserves to pay. Haven’t I always told you that I was the man for you? Maybe you’ll finally realize that.”

I cannot believe he’s putting the moves on Theresa when I’m back here fighting for my life. My so-called best friend fuckin’ beat the hell out of me and is now trying to seduce my old girlfriend. The cough finally stops and I strain to hear Jimmy’s hushed tones.

“And now that his precious Michelle thinks he’s already dead she’ll be so vulnerable she’ll probably welcome the little surprise you have in store for her. She’ll relish the opportunity to join her beloved husband in death.”

No. Not Michelle. They will not hurt Michelle. I don’t care if they kill me a thousand times over, they will not lay a finger on my wife. I tug at my arms, trying desperately to free them. Every time I move my body is enveloped in pain. I yell out in frustration and pain when I try unsuccessfully to get out of these constraints. If I could just open my damned eyes and see what the hell I was doing. After nearly passing out again, I realize I only have one hope in this entire situation. I have to get Theresa on my side. I have to get her to forget what Jimmy is feeding her and help me. I’m working so hard to free my hands that the chair I’m tied to tips over, sending me painfully crashing to the ground. It’s only a matter of seconds before I go unconscious. But not before muttering the only word that matters: Michelle.

The word echoes in my brain as I drift into a place somewhere between reality and dream. Michelle. Michelle. Michelle. My beautiful, perfect Michelle. The image is so clear. It’s so beautiful. I see my wife, running through the yard at our home in Laurel Falls. She’s playfully chasing our daughter. Camille is gorgeous. She’s wearing a yellow sundress with daisies. Michelle loves daises. It’s no surprise our daughter would love them, too. She’s so beautiful with long, flowing ebony curls that are pulled back into a yellow ribbon. Her eyes are just like Michelle’s: big, brown and absolutely hypnotizing me. When she throws her head back and laughs I see my little sister. I see Pilar’s smile and hear her playful giggle. And for just a moment, when Camille looks over her shoulder with a closed grin and intense eyes, I see my mother. The mother I knew before she became a monster. The mother I loved. Michelle and Camille are laughing as they chase after a butterfly floating through the warm spring air. I think of the imaginary butterfly my father engraved in my head when he told me his master plan. I think back to the metamorphosis my own life has undergone. In one brief instant, my entire life truly flashes before me, ending with this image. My wife and my child, chasing after the symbol of me, unable to grasp it despite their efforts. I want so desperately to help them. I want to join in the race with my family but I can’t. I am paralyzed, frozen in this moment. Soon, I feel myself leaving them, being pulled by some great force into a place unknown. I reach out to my Michelle and my Camille as I’m dragged further and further away from them. This beautiful picture of them is growing smaller and smaller before it finally fades. All I see is darkness. All I hear is silence. All I feel is pain.

The Story of Manny Chapter 20

Republisher’s Note: After being told Danny is dead, Michelle makes the return trip to Springfield.

The flight home was the longest flight of my life. Camille was miserable the entire time and I could barely keep myself together. Thank God Isabela was there with me. “Your brother and his wife should be waiting for us in the terminal. Manuel said he will meet us back at your house.” I cannot even really hear Isabela speaking to me. I hear sounds, but it’s all a dizzy blur. I hear my baby crying when the plane finally makes its landing. I turn to her, barely having the strength to pick her up, but somehow I do. I take her from her car seat and hold her tightly as Isabela steadies me down the aisle. I always thought that coming back home would be one of the happiest moments of my life. Right now I feel like I’m dead.

Through teary eyes I see Rick and Abby waiting for us. Rick looks both elated and devastated. I know, to him, I am the walking dead. At this moment, that couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m holding Camille so tightly, covering her in a blanket to protect her from the chilly fall air. Her cries are echoing in my head with the other noise from the airport morphing into unrecognizable sounds in my brain. My heart hurts so badly, I can’t begin to describe this pain. I can’t feel my feet touching the ground. If it weren’t for Isabela leading me, I don’t think I could make this journey off of the plane into my brother’s arms. Rick is embracing me so tightly. All I can do is breakdown. I feel Abby rubbing my back and my baby in between my brother and me, squirming as she cried. Rick steps back, wiping his tears away. I stand there sobbing, holding my baby against my broken, tired body.

“Who’s this little angel, huh?”

I manage to smile, pulling the blanket away from Camille’s face. “This is Camille Danielle.” My voice is just above a whisper through my tears. “This is our baby girl, this is Camille. And this is Isabela Santos, Danny’s aunt.” Rick takes her from my arms and tries to quiet her. He looks concerned. “She’s got an ear infection. And she’s hungry, probably wet, too.”

“She’s beautiful, Michelle. And her name is just gorgeous. Camille sounds so classy,” Abby says softly, trying as she always does to make a bad situation just a bit brighter.

“Thank you,” I say wiping my nose with a baby rag. “It was Danny’s choice.” There is a sad silence before I dig in my bag for a bottle and give it to Rick. He knows just what to do to make Camille temporarily happy. He’s so good with babies, he always has been. “Boy, I bet you guys have a ton of questions.”

“You know what, Michelle? We have time to work that all out later. Right now we need to get you and this beautiful baby home,” Abby takes Isabela’s place and helps me to the car. It’s a journey so filled with pain as we pass all of the places that remind me of Danny. The exit before home is the one for Laurel Falls and I think I am going to pass out when I see it. I yell for Rick to stop the car so I can run to a patch of bushes to vomit before collapsing in a heap of sobs. Rick is right by my side, holding me, rocking me as I cry. “I know, honey. I know how much this hurts.”

“You have no idea. You cannot begin to understand this pain,” I say through tears. “No one can understand.”

We finally get home where I settle the baby. She’s finally stopped crying and seems comfortable. Rick picked up some eardrops from the hospital on the way home and some sedatives for me. I was nearly hysterical after driving by Laurel Falls. Now I feel nothing. I feel totally numb as I sit here in the Bauer living room, fighting the heavy eyelids that threaten me with the sleep I so desperately need. Everyone is gathered in the kitchen talking about what to do, how to take care of me. Pilar arrived a few minutes ago with Bill and Manuel. He came to me and hugged me. He apologized for not protecting Danny as he promised. He told me Danny had gone off on his own and tried to strike a deal no one knew about. Danny said he would protect me with his life and that’s exactly what he did. I can hear them all saying how worried they are about me. I can hear them talking about me and my baby. My beautiful Camille is lying before me in a playpen, chewing on her fist. She will need to eat soon. I stare at her with my heavy eyes and can’t help but think of my husband, my beautiful, precious Danny. The doorbell breaks my thought. I somehow make it to the door, where David Grant stands behind. Rick is soon by my side, urging me to go to bed. David said something about coming to the morgue to identify the body. Rick tried to send him away, but I said I wanted to go. I have to see him. I have to say good-bye.

Pilar said she wanted to go with me. I can’t deny her that. She’s his sister. He loved her so much. For some reason all I can think of is how much I think Camille will look like Pilar when she’s older. Pilar smiles at me, holding me steady as we walk down the long corridor to the large metal room that is freezing and smells of something that makes me want to puke. We hold hands tightly as the coroner rolls out a stretcher and unzips a blue plastic body bag. I raise a shaking hand to my mouth to try to silence the sobs as the pale, bruised face is exposed, followed by a body badly beaten. I fall to my knees and sob as Pilar joins me, hugging me tightly.

“It’s not him,” I cry. “That’s not my Danny. That’s not him. Oh God, it’s not him, Pilar. Pilar, it’s not Danny.”

The coroner looks at David puzzled and then down at me and Pilar, who is also crying.

“It’s not him, David. That’s not my brother,” she confirms.

I’m hysterical. I am so hysterical. This body before us is not Daniel Santos. If this isn’t Danny, where the hell is he? Where is my husband? “Oh God, it’s not Danny. Where is Danny? Where is he Pilar? He’s not dead, this isn’t him….”

I look at this man lying there through a flood of tears and I don’t know whether to thank God or curse him for putting me through this. I’m sobbing hysterically, yelling for Danny. They have to find him. “Someone has to find him before he ends up here, before he ends up he for real. Pilar, we have to find him,” I’m screaming at the top of my lungs. No one will listen to me, no one is helping me find Danny and I can’t understand why. Pilar tries to lift me on my feet, but I collapse before I get there.