No Way Back: Part 2 of 3

Roxanne reached out and clasped her hand. “That’s why you never allowed us to sponsor you for your green card, isn’t it? Because you were afraid?”

“Yes. I was in violation of a court order to leave the country. They would have found out who I am and sent me back. And even if they didn’t, look what happened to Cano. He is Zetas. He is very connected with the United States. He would have found out where I was. I am sorry that I never told you these things.” She took Roxanne’s hand in hers. “I never wanted to place my worries on you. I never wanted to put your family at risk. You must believe that. But now that you know, the children will be coming home soon. I should leave …” She started to get up.

“No,” Roxanne said.

“No, Missus, it is not right.” Lauritzia stood up, but her eyes welled with tears. “It will be very hard for me to see them again and have to—”

“No.” Roxanne held her back by the arm. “This isn’t just a place of work for you. This is your home. No one forces you to leave.”

Lauritzia smiled, a smile that was both pleased yet skeptical, and went to pick up her coat and scarf. “I’m sorry, but I do not have a home anymore.”

“Yes, you do.” Roxanne took Lauritzia in her arms, the girl attempting to pull herself away, to grab her coat, to break free, until she just surrendered, not knowing whether to resist or go, the torrent building in her eyes, until she just gave up and put her head on Roxanne’s shoulder and began to cry.

Roxanne looked at her husband over Lauritzia’s shoulder as she stroked her hair. “You poor child. God only knows what you’ve been through. Well, you damn well have one now.”

“I know what you’re going to say,” Roxanne argued to Harold outside, his lawyerly, gray-templed look of reason and restraint. “I know what’s happened. But we can’t just let her leave. That girl’s been through hell. If we let her walk out that door, we’ll be sending her to her grave. She’ll be dead in a week!”

“Rox, you heard her story …” Harold leaned against the wall. “We’ve got the kids. These people could try again anytime.”

“And speaking of the kids, look what she did for ours at the mall. She put them before herself. You saw how close that shot came. That could have been Jamie or Taylor. We can’t just abandon her, Harold. What kind of a thing would that be?”

“There’s a lot involved here, Rox. It’s not just a question of good intentions. She’s in violation of a court order to return home. She’s been illegally hiding here. For all we know her father may be at odds with the U.S. government. Not to mention the little matter that if these people actually now know where she is—”

“I realize they know where she is, Harold! But we can’t just walk away from her. This girl saved our children.”

“I was talking about our children, Roxanne.” Harold looked at her sternly.

“I know. I know … But if she goes back and something happens to her, I couldn’t live with that. We don’t do those kinds of things, Harold. If what she says is true, the U.S. government has treated her every bit as cruelly as this Cano. They’ve got blood on their hands as well. She saved Jamie and Taylor. We can’t turn around and say, ‘Thank you very much, but you have to be on your way. It’s just too much of a risk. Here’s a little money.’ Not after what she’s been through. You’re a lawyer. The case can be reopened. We can represent her in some way. Or we can set her up somewhere. We can afford it. What the hell is it all for, anyway? We don’t just call her part of the family, and take her on vacations and trust our children in her care, and then when something comes out that interferes with our neat, orderly lives, give her fifty bucks and a train ticket and tell her we don’t have the heart!”

“Mexican drug enforcers aren’t exactly a minor interference in our neat, orderly lives, Rox. Not to mention taking on the U.S. government. Anyway, she’s not even asking for our help. She’s seen these people. She understands. She knows firsthand.”

“I realize she knows, Harold. But that doesn’t mean that we just back down. We owe her something. When those bullets were flying, her first thoughts weren’t for herself. They were for our kids. That’s my cuota, Harold. And I damn well intend to pay it back. You’re as smart a lawyer as I know, and you’ve got an office full of even smarter ones back there. So think of something.”

He had that look, that look when he knew he was worn down. Or at least strategically outflanked. He picked up his suit jacket. “I’ll ask around. In the meantime, I don’t want her leaving the house. And God knows, not with the kids. I’m going to hire a private security outfit, just to keep an eye over the house. The first sign of anything, Roxanne, and she’s got to go. Is that clear? This isn’t some stray dog you’ve picked up on the street. You heard her story. You know what these people are capable of—”

“Jesus, Harold, we live in a goddamned gated commu-nity in Greenwich. They can’t just barge in here …” She leaned against him and hugged him. “But I’m not abandoning her. As long as that’s clear too.”

He squeezed her on the shoulder and, when she looked up, took a long, admiring look into his wife’s glistening eyes. “You know somewhere in all of this is precisely the reason why I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

“You don’t need to look very far, Harold. It’s what’s right. And you know that, don’t you?”

“Yes.” He nodded begrudgingly, putting on his jacket.

“Just find something. Something that gives this girl a chance. But, yes …” She centered his jacket on his shoulders and straightened his tie. “I know that, Harold. About why you love me.” Roxanne smiled at him. “I do.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#ulink_da169f5e-55dd-5bcd-a76e-f991e903636b)

When Harold came home the following night, he spoke with Roxanne privately, and after a few minutes with the kids, helping Jamie do his fractions and Taylor download photos on Apple TV, he and Roxanne asked to speak with Lauritzia in their study.

It was his office at the house, littered with briefs and law books. She hardly ever went in there.

Harold sat in the high-backed chair at his desk, and Lauritzia on the green leather couch. Roxanne sat next to her. It was clear they had something important to tell her.

“Your family has a case file with an immigration court in their attempt for asylum?” Harold asked her.

“Yes.” Lauritzia nodded. “My sister filed it. In Texas, when we tried to move here. She wanted her son to be born in America.”

“Do you remember the name of the judge who presided on it?”

Lauritzia thought back. She hadn’t come here yet, and she was a minor back then. Her older sister and father had handled it. “It was Esposito, I think.”

“We’ll need to find it.”

Lauritzia stared, confused.

“We can represent you, Lauritzia.” Mr. B leaned closer to her, a serious but somehow hopeful look on his face. “We can file an appeal, to the Immigration Appeals Court. We can go for what’s called a ‘motion to re-open,’ which basically means you could stay here, if we win. And judging by what happened the other day, I can’t imagine a court in the country not agreeing that the clear threat against your father extends as well to you. You wouldn’t have to go back home.”

“Represent me?” Lauritzia asked, looking at them both. “This will cost a lot of money.”

“Let’s just say we won’t spend our time worrying about that right now. The firm can pick up the majority of the costs. And if there’s more, well …” He nodded toward Roxanne. “The first thing we have to do is familiarize ourselves with your case. You’re the one remaining plaintiff of record now. Then we have to find someplace for you to stay. Someplace that’s safe. You understand that, don’t you, that you can’t remain here?”

“Yes, I understand,” Lauritzia said, her insides warming to what she thought she understood they were saying. The darkness that had weighed her down like a leaden overcast sky began to clear. This was more than she could ever have hoped for. No one had ever been there for her before.

“We’ll win this for you.” Harold reached across and squeezed her hand. A faint smile broke through. “I promise we’ll win.”

“No one’s going to walk away from you, Lauritzia.” Roxanne took her hand. “When we said you were like a part of this family, we meant it. Like it or not, you’re stuck with us!”

Mrs. B’s confident eyes and warm, determined smile infused Lauritzia with a strength she had never felt before. “So I don’t have to go?”

“Not unless you want to,” Harold said, grinning. “And even then, I believe it’ll be over my wife’s dead body.”

Lauritzia looked at him and laughed. She didn’t know what to say. Suddenly she felt joy come out of her. As if out of every pore. A joy she hadn’t felt for years, since when they were all children, back at home, before everything happened. It was a joy she felt she could trust, not a fake one, like a governmentale kneeling over a body telling her they would look into it. Which everyone there knew was just a pantalla, a sham.

“Thank you!” she exclaimed.

“Not me,” Mr. B said. “I’m just the hired hand. Her.” He pointed to Roxanne. “This is all her doing.”

“Thank you both!” Lauritzia said, unable to hold herself in. She leaped up and hurled her arms around Harold and hugged him, taking him totally by surprise. And then Roxanne. A warm, deep, penetrating hug, as deeply as if Roxanne had brought Rosa back to life and her sister stood with her arms open in front of her.

Never before had anyone stood up for her. Stood up against them. She had only seen the pall bearers and those who grieved. Tragedy and death. Now she had something she’d had only a few times in her life: a feeling of hope. The last time was when Rosa had told her that she was pregnant. She was in the United States and would have a boy, and there was hope for a new life for them. Away from all the bloodshed.

That hope did not live long, but this one was real. One she could touch and count on.

Roxanne said, “I don’t know if you’ll be able to remain with us when it’s over. Purely for your own safety.”

“I understand.”

“But we’ll set you up in a place where you’ll be safe. You can visit. You can get a job, or go back to school somewhere. Don’t be so quick to leave those books behind … you still might get that store.”