“I see. Well, do you really think that kind of life is going to make you happy? Roaming from town to town, never settling down to build relationships and get to know people? There are some really nice folks here in San Marcial.”
“Yeah, but they aren’t interested in me.” Gary shook his head. “I don’t matter to much of anyone.”
“That’s not true. You matter to me, and I know you matter to Owen. He wouldn’t have taken time tonight to talk to you if he didn’t care.”
Gary frowned, then headed for his room. “I’m going to bed. Morning will be here before I know it.”
Susanna wanted to say more, but she could see that her brother’s mind was made up. Gary was in such turmoil. She knew he blamed their father for the problems they had, but he also blamed her and felt anger at Owen. Gary was always willing to blame anyone but himself when things were going wrong. She sighed. Maybe she’d talk to Pastor Lewis about him.
The next morning, after checking out their guests, Susanna went about her work gathering the sheets and pillowcases. Thankfully the hotel owned enough sets to change out every bed and still have one extra, but it was still necessary to tend to the wash every day, especially if the rooms had all been rented. Since Father hadn’t shown up again, she had made an arrangement with Manuel to stay for the time it took her to go to the house, do the wash, and get things hung up to dry. Later, Lia would take the linens down, iron the sheets and pillowcases, and leave them stacked and ready in the basket for Susanna. Often, Father had brought the basket with him when he’d returned after supper, but lately he’d so rarely come to work that Susanna wasn’t sure what she was going to do.
“Mrs. Jenkins,” Pastor Lewis said as she came down the stairs to the lobby with her basket stuffed to overflowing.
“Pastor Lewis.” She smiled. “I just decided last night to seek you out for a conversation, and here you are.”
He smiled and gave her a nod. “I always like to visit new believers.”
“I’m here, Señora Jenkins,” Manuel announced, coming through the door. He saw Pastor Lewis and gave him a nod. “Papa Lewis.” Manuel continued in Spanish, and the pastor replied in kind.
Susanna waited until their conversation was completed before motioning toward the door. “Would you care to walk with me? I’m going to take the laundry to my folks’ house, where I can wash it. It’s easier than trying to heat up water on the stove and wash it in the sink or tub here at the hotel.”
“I’d be happy to walk with you, but only if you let me carry the basket.”
“No need. I have a little wagon I pull. You can take over pulling that, if you like,” she replied.
“I will do exactly that.” He smiled again. “It’s been a long time since I pulled my children in a wagon, but I think I recall how it’s done.”
She put the basket in the wagon and let him take the handle.
“You know,” Pastor Lewis declared as they crossed the street and headed out, “Manuel lives with us.”
“I heard. He’s such a nice young man.”
“His family died during an epidemic. He was just fourteen, and we encouraged him to come and stay with us. He didn’t want to, but then he got sick as well, and Mrs. Lewis nursed him back to health. After that, it was natural for him to stick around. He’s a good boy.” The pastor’s Texas drawl left Susanna relaxed and at ease.
“He’s very helpful. I think I’m going to have to hire him on full-time if my father doesn’t return to the hotel to work.”
“Is there a problem?” the pastor asked.
Susanna found herself wishing she hadn’t said anything. “He’s just been upset since the fire. We’re still not sure what caused it. My uncle is coming here next week to check up on things.” She decided to change the subject. “I want to talk to you, but it’s about my brother. I’m worried about him.”
“Then, by all means, tell me why.”
Susanna nodded. “I don’t know what you know about our family, but a lot is wrong.” She heaved a heavy sigh. “This isn’t a short story, but I’ll try to make it as abbreviated as possible.”
She launched into a short history of all that had happened to bring them to San Marcial, ending with the fire. “I don’t know if Gary or maybe one of his friends had anything to do with it, but he hasn’t been himself since it happened.”
“It sounds like he hasn’t been himself since you moved here, but that it might not be all bad. Changes can be good.”
Susanna motioned for him to follow her to the back of the house once they reached the adobe structure. Her mother and father were used to her routine and wouldn’t question her being out back. Thankfully, Lia had already gotten the water on to heat, and the cauldron was ready to receive the wash.
“My folks are angry with me, and I think that’s made Gary angry too. They know I inherited enough money from my dead husband that I could have saved them from having to leave Topeka.”
“But it’s not your job to take care of them. You owe them honor and respect, not a wage.”
“I’ve tried to provide different comforts.” She glanced toward the laundry. “More for myself, I’m ashamed to say, than for them.”
“You are a good person, Susanna. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“I just fear what will happen to Gary if he doesn’t get some direction. He might end up like our father, floundering around, trying to find another get-rich-quick scheme to bring him fortune. Right now he’s working for the Santa Fe—driven by anger at Father. He doesn’t want to be anything like him, so he’s doing manual labor. But the boomers, his friends from the railroad, got him involved in playing cards for money, and they want him to leave town and go with them to a larger city where he can make more money. I’m afraid he’ll go.”
“Sometimes you have to let people make their own mistakes, Susanna. You can’t live Gary’s life for him.”
She met Pastor Lewis’s concerned expression. “Then what do I do for him?”
The pastor smiled and patted her shoulder. “You pray.”
15
Uncle Harrison arrived the next Friday. Susanna was the first to cross his path, since she was walking back from the ladies’ aid meeting at the church. She saw him making his way to the hotel and headed him off so that they might speak privately.
“I hope you had a good trip,” she said.
“It was tolerable. I was so livid over the fire, I cleared my calendar in order to deal with this. How bad is the damage?”
“It’s nearly all repaired.”
“Make sure to give me the receipts, and you will be reimbursed.”
“Well, the repairs . . . we all pitched in and did them together.” She shrugged. “So very little money was spent.”
His expression changed to disbelief. “Truly? Your parents helped?”
“No, not them, but different folks—yes. The ladies at the church helped by washing out the bedding and draperies, Owen and LeRoy—two friends from church—have done the hardest work of taking out the damaged parts of the kitchen and replacing them. They made some new cabinets, so we can find out what that cost, but I doubt they’d let you pay them.” She paused and smiled. “Even Gary helped.”