He lets me lead him up the stairs to the third floor and we walk together to the first door on the left, my arm around his waist for support and comfort. Reaching into the pocket of his khaki pants, he retrieves a set of keys and with shaky hands, lifts them to the lock. I place my hand over his to steady it, and I help him guide the key into the keyhole. "I think there are some empty boxes in the hall closet," he whispers over his shoulder, and I leave his side to retrieve them, knowing that he needs a few moments alone inside the room.
When I return with several boxes of various sizes, I find him pulling dusty white sheets from various pieces of furniture, and I can immediately tell that this was Pilar's private study. I walk to the window and tie back the heavy drapes on either side, letting the sun illuminate the room. I walk to the huge mahogany bookcase that lines one wall and let my fingers slip over the spines of dozens of books.
Turning to Danny, I see that he is seated in an enormous leather chair behind a grand marble top desk, watching me. "She favored romance novels, I see."
Smiling, he says, "Yes... she did. She always was a hopeless romantic." Taking a deep breath, he asks, "What are we going to do with all of those?"
I don't want to be pushy or presumptuous, so I answer cautiously, "You could donate them to Cedars." He sits back, saying nothing as he waits for me to explain. "The Auxiliary Ladies at the hospital visit each floor every day, passing out books to some of the more long-term patients. They are always looking for donated books for their bookmobile."
Shaking his head, he says, "That sounds like a wonderful idea." Carefully removing each book, I stack them in one of the boxes and carry it to the desk, grabbing a pen and labeling it, 'Books for Cedars'. Glancing across the desk at Danny, I follow his eyes and see that he is thumbing through a thick leather-bound book, and I ask, "What you got there?"
Closing it, he holds it up to show me the title, 'Advanced Principles in Accounting'. Our eyes lock before his drop back down to the desk surface, and I follow them, watching as he adds other accounting and mathematics textbooks to the pile. "It was almost the end of her junior year at SU and she was in the middle of studying for final exams," he says, looking at me with tear-filled eyes before finishing, "She wanted to come and work for me at Sancorp... in the accounting department."
I round the corner of the desk and stand next to him, clutching his head to me and running my fingers through his hair while he quietly sobs against my stomach. He looks up at me finally, and as I wipe the tears from his eyes, he implores, "I know what you've probably heard about the accident, but it's a bunch of goddamn lies."
Pressing a finger to his lips, I insist, "Shh, Danny... we don't have to talk about this." I don't know how to take away the pain that I see behind his eyes, and my heart feels like it's shattering into a million pieces.
Removing my hand from his mouth, he says, "Yes we do, Michelle. I want to share this with you. I need to." When I look into his beseeching eyes, I know that if I just listen to him it will help take away the pain in both our hearts. I nod my head and let him lead me to the leather sofa in the center of the room.
I sit facing him and give him my undivided attention. "Abuela and Pilar and I had gone to the country club for Easter dinner after Ray's mass. I drank two glasses of scotch with my dinner, but I wasn't drunk... you have to believe me, Michelle. I swear it... I wasn't drunk." Grabbing his hand, I place it in my lap and rub the top of it for reassurance. "It had rained earlier and the roads were slick. I lost control of the car when I made a sharp turn and we skidded into an embankment." Closing his eyes, he leans back against the cushion, reliving the moment as he continues, "I was so scared. I tried everything. I feathered the brakes... I slammed on the brakes... I pulled up on the emergency brake... I turned the wheel, frantically trying to get us out of the skid... but nothing worked."
Opening his eyes, he stares at the intricate patterns in the oriental rug on the floor as he says, "I knew that Pilar was dead. She hadn't been wearing her seat belt and she was thrown into the front seat between me and abuela. I could tell that her neck was broken, but I checked for a pulse anyway. I was hysterical... screaming her name at the top of my lungs into her ear." Looking up at me, he says, "I just wanted her to open her eyes, you know? I felt like I was in the middle of someone else's nightmare. It was all so surreal. I felt so helpless. I could tell that abuela was unconscious but I couldn't get to her, and there was blood dripping into my eye." My eyes drift up to examine the scar in his hairline before settling back on his. "So... I just sat there and did nothing, praying that we'd be found soon."
Shifting nervously in his seat, he continues, "It was chaos when they pulled me from that car. I watched them drape a sheet over Pilar's face and I felt like dropping to my knees and crying right there, but I didn't. I left her side and focused all of my attention on abuela. I watched the paramedics inserting breathing tubes and IV's. They were screaming out all this medical lingo, and I had to beg someone to explain to me what was going on." I watch his demeanor change as he says, "That's about the time some cop came up to me, insisting that I blow into some goddamn tube so they could see whether or not I was drunk. I had just lost my sister and I didn't know whether abuela was going to live or die, so I refused. When I crawled up inside the ambulance with abuela, I heard the cop mutter, 'murderer', under his breath."
He squeezes my hands together tightly in his and says, "You have to believe me, Michelle. I didn't refuse the test because I had anything to hide. Later they came and drew blood for a blood alcohol level and that proved that I wasn't drunk, but someone on the police force started a rumor that I bought my way out of the problem. That's bullshit, Michelle. You trust me, don't you?"
Shaking my head, I stand and pull him to his feet, wrapping my arms around him as I whisper, "With my life." He releases a shaky breath near my ear and his body sags with relief against mine. I know that it took a lot of courage for him to talk about this with me, and a part of me feels like I pushed him too hard to open his heart to me so soon when the feelings are still so raw. Looking heavenward, I make a vow to God to always be the protector of Danny's heart.
Hand in hand, we walk to the last door on the right side of the hallway. This time, I take the keys from Danny's hands and unlock the door myself as he leans his head on my shoulder. Turning on the light, I begin to pull the sheets from the pieces of furniture, revealing the trinkets and possessions that Pilar decorated her room with... things that she cherished and held dear to her heart.
Like her abuela, Pilar was a great collector of photographs, and I lean against the drawers of her bureau as I examine each one. Turning to Danny, I find him sitting on her bed, tracing a finger over the delicate yellow and green flowers stitched on the white comforter, lost in thought. Turning back to the bureau, I pick up a silver picture frame to read the words that are finely etched along the bottom. 'Pilar Lizca Santos. May 16, 1979.' It is a family picture taken in front of Cedars hospital. Carmen is sitting in a wheelchair cradling Pilar in her arms while Juan Miguel stands behind them, leaning down so that his chin rests on top of his wife's head. To her right is her eldest son, Miguel, and to her left is my Danny, smiling a toothless grin. "Danny... come look at this," I ask.
Walking up behind me, he wraps his arms around me and asks, "What?" When he sees the picture in my hand, he draws in a deep breath, and I raise my hand to stroke his cheek. He reaches out and rubs the tip of his finger over the faces in the photo and after a brief pause, says, "Pilar was born a little over a month before my ninth birthday and seven months before Mickey's thirteenth. He wanted a chemistry set and I wanted a new bike, but instead, we got this crying, baby sister."
Hearing the sadness in his voice, I remove his hand from the picture and give it a light squeeze before raising it to my mouth and kissing it softly. In turn, he lowers his head and rains kisses on my shoulder and on the sensitive skin behind my ear. Realizing that just shortly over a year after this photo was taken, Carmen, Juan, and Miguel were all killed, I say, "Pilar must have treasured this picture."
"She did," Danny says as I set it back down and turn to face him. "She didn't have any memory of them, so she held on to these images to remind herself of what our family once was."
I am on the verge of tears, but I know that I have to be strong for Danny, so I turn back to the bureau and pick up another photograph that catches my attention. Pilar is wearing a lacy white dress, her hands clasped in front of her as if in prayer, and Danny is standing behind her, his hands on her shoulders. In the lower left corner of the picture, the year '1990' is embossed in gold print. "That was just after confirmation," he explains. I don't know much about Catholic rituals, but I do know what a special occasion confirmation is. "Abuela gave her these that day," he says, pointing to a spot on the bureau where a delicate rosary lays atop a burgundy bible with gold monogramming.
Lifting them carefully, I wait for his eyes to meet mine before asking, "Don't you think abuela might like to have these... as a keepsake?"
Nodding, he replies, "I expect so." Then letting his eyes scan the entire room, he finishes, "In fact... Ray and some of my other cousins and aunts and uncles may want something to keep in remembrance. I never thought to ask anyone."
Walking to retrieve one of the empty boxes by the door, I say, "Why don't we box these things up until you decide who should get what?" Nodding, he watches as I set the bible, rosary, and confirmation picture aside and begin placing all of the other trinkets and pictures into the box. Unable to say anything, he mouths the words, 'Thank you', and I smile as I continue to work, moving to the items on her nightstand and vanity table. Setting the full box on the bed, I turn to him and ask, "Have you decided what should be done with her clothes?"
Moving towards the door to her walk-in closet, he says, "Actually... I did last night." He flips the light on, and I follow behind him into an enormous closet that is jam-packed with more clothes than I have seen in my entire lifetime. "Pilar used to volunteer her time at the Fifth Street Women's Shelter, so I think I'd like to donate her clothes to that facility."
"I think that's a wonderful idea, Danny," I say, letting my fingers slide over skirts, blouses, slacks, and the toes of some rather expensive looking shoes. "Why don't you work on the closet, and I'll box the clothes in her bureau?" He nods, and I leave to get started.
Working my way from the bottom drawer up, I pack neatly folded t-shirts, shorts, pajamas, and socks before opening the top drawer and finding a small, wrapped box tucked amidst the lingerie. I open the card that is tucked underneath the bow, reading the words to myself, 'Happy 30th Birthday, Big Brother'. I've never met Pilar, but tears spring to my eyes when I see her handwriting. Whereas Danny's is small and slanted, Pilar's handwriting was full of long, sweeping, carefree strokes. Hearing Danny bringing a handful of clothes from the closet, I quickly deposit the gift in my pocket. I will give it to him on his birthday this Sunday.
Finishing our work, we make several trips to the first floor storage closet to deposit the boxes that are brimming with mostly happy memories. I pick up the three items that I set aside for abuela, and Danny turns the light switch off, taking one last look around at the now bare furniture. When we get down to the second floor, he grabs my wrist and turns me around, saying, "I know that you've got to get to therapy, but I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate what you did for me today."
Smiling, I say, "It was my pleasure, Danny. I think it was good for both of us. I feel almost connected to Pilar now. I know that if I'd ever gotten the chance to meet her, I'd have loved her."
"She would have felt the same way about you, Michelle... I know it," he answers sincerely, his lip quivering slightly. When I start to leave, he says, "Wait, Michelle. I need to ask you something." Looking at him expectantly, I wait for him to continue, "I'd like to take you out one night soon."
A huge, goofy grin spreads over my face as I ask, "When?"
Pleased by my excitement, he returns my smile and says, "Well... abuela told me that you've made plans with Bill on Thursday, right?" Nodding my head, I can't help but notice that the contempt and jealousy that used to drip from his voice when he uttered that name, is now gone. "How about Saturday night then?" Unable to contain my excitement, I jump up and wrap my arms around his neck. "I'll take that as a yes. Pick you up at six." he jokingly whispers in my ear.
"I'll be counting the minutes," I say, blowing a kiss over my shoulder as I bound down the steps. As I walk to abuela's room, my mind is racing and my adrenaline is pumping. Last night, Danny Santos made me feel whole again for the first time in a long time with a simple touch... and I gave him my heart. Today, he showed me his vulnerability and opened up to me more than I ever dreamed possible... and he gave me his heart. On Saturday night, I will tell him that I feel connected to him both in my mind and in my heart now... and then, I will give him my body.
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