Chapter 25

'Berto

The chicken was better than he'd expected it to be. Roberto suspected that Toni could have done it better, but for a first try – not just at garlic chicken, but at real cooking – it was pretty good. He and Toni both had seconds, and it was over their second helping that he reported on his church search, as he thought of it.

"I talked to Doug today, and he gave me this." He put the card in front of Toni's plate, right side up for her so she could read it. "I called the church after I got home, and they'd like to talk to us both. I told them we'd be there Saturday at two in the afternoon. I hope that's all right with you."

"It's fine, 'Berto."

"I didn't expect them to want to talk to us. What's that about?"

"It's pretty standard, I think. A church doesn't want to become a marriage mill, I suppose. They'll want to get some idea of what we want, and probably they'll say some things about God."

"Do I have to put up with that?" His tone was weary.

"'Berto, you know I want a church wedding, and you know that churches have something to do with God."

"Yeah, I know, but..."

"What do you want, 'Berto – a church that doesn't ever say anything about God?"

"I guess that would be like a football team that never talks about plays, wouldn't it?"

"I'm not a football fan, but I guess that's a good analogy."

He looked across the table at her. She looked as she always did – slender, smooth, young, and beautiful. But just now he'd seen a bit more – inside that slim body was a will that would not bend. Of course he wasn't interested in bending her, but it occurred to him that if he ever made her really mad, it wouldn't be pleasant. "Okay, palomita morena, we'll go talk to them."

"Thank you, 'Berto."

"I've got directions, but it ought to be real easy – they're at Menaul and Juan Tabo."

"Hmmm ... I might have seen the building. I know I've been past there many times, and I seem to remember it..."

"Then I'll let you drive."

"I don't know," she said, "whether to take that as a man making the woman do all the work, or a well-trained man allowing the woman to be in charge."

He could feel himself smiling at her. "It's a man who bows to greater expertise."

She smiled back. "Nice save, 'Berto. I'll make a good husband out of you yet."

"I was born to be a good husband."

"Oh, you were born knowing I'm superior in every way?" Her smile was broader now.

"No, I was born knowing that I love you."

"No you weren't!"

"Okay, I didn't know it till a few days ago. But it seems like I've loved you forever..."

She put her fork down and took his free hand. "I know what you mean. I've only loved you for a couple of weeks, and yet it feels like a lifetime."

"Was it that way with Garry?" He saw something pass over her face, he wasn't sure what. "I'm sorry, Toni – I shouldn't have asked that."

"It's just that it hurts, remembering how much I lost when he died. But it's not your fault, 'Berto. I told you about him, and I'm glad you know. I don't want to have secrets from you." He saw her shoulders rise as she took a deep breath. "With Garry it was a little different. I didn't know what love was, then, and at first I thought it was just my body running out of control. I thought all we had was physical attraction. But after we'd been together for three or four months I realized it was more than that, and by the time I got pregnant I knew I loved him. I'm not sure just when I understood that. It wasn't a sudden realization, but more like the budding of the trees. You notice one day that the leaves are out, but the fact is that they've been growing for days or weeks. When I realized I loved Garry, I knew that it had been growing in my heart for a while."

"And with me?"

"It hit me that I loved you that first Monday. You'd gone to work, and I was thinking about things. I had never before invited someone to spend the night that way, much less to move in, and I would have sworn I never would – and certainly not so quickly. And it came to me that Monday that I loved you. And I've never changed that conviction. Every day makes it plainer to me that I love you with all my heart."

"And I spent two weeks in agony trying to figure things out..."

Her hand was still on his, and now she gave a gentle pressure. "I knew something was going on, but I didn't know what. One of these days you'll want to tell me – but you don't have to right now."

"Thanks, Toni. Right now I'm not sure I could tell you. It's all still confused in my mind. But I do know that I love you, and I can't wait till we're married."

Toni

It was 10 or 15 minutes till two when Toni turned the car into the parking lot of MJT Christian Fellowship. She had indeed seen the building before, and noted it as unusual, for it didn't look like a church building. Probably, she thought, it had originally housed a business, and then later the church had bought it.

They got out of the car and, holding hands, walked to the door. Toni's heart was beating a little more strongly than usual, not pounding, but not a soft natural beat either. It's been a long time since I was in a church building, she thought as they came up to the doors. There was a sign there – Please press buzzer. There was an arrow pointing to a button, and Toni pushed it.

"Yes?" came a voice through the intercom box.

There was a Push To Talk button, and Toni pushed it. "This is Antonia Cedillo with Roberto Vargas. We have an appointment for two."

"Okay, someone will be there shortly to let you in."

It was new to Toni, locking the doors of the church building, but things had changed in Albuquerque. These days it didn't matter what part of town it was – there were gangs, as the ubiquitous graffiti attested, and thieves, and she supposed it had become necessary. Probably Catholic parishes, with people coming in and praying at all hours of the day, would be unlocked, but she knew that Protestant churches didn't have as much going on during the week. Most of their weekday activities are where the members are, she remembered.

It was just a couple of minutes before the inner door opened, but it seemed like forever – and not nearly long enough. She was in that classic position that fear brings about: She wanted to get it over with, but she didn't want it to ever start. I asked for this, she thought, but I'd be glad to back out now if I could. The first time having anything to do with a church since she was 22 wasn't as easy as she'd thought it would be.

But the time for reflection was past. That inner door was opening, and then the figure in the foyer pushed a button and there came the buzz of an electric lock releasing. She squeezed 'Berto's hand tight, whether to reassure him or herself she didn't know, and stepped through the door.

"Good afternoon," said the man who stood there. "My name is Jim Garrison, and I'm one of the elders here. I believe I spoke to you, Mr. Vargas?"

"Yes, sir," she heard 'Berto say.

"And you're Antonia Cedillo, right?" Garrison offered his hand to her as he spoke; she realized that she'd seen him shaking 'Berto's hand a second before.

"That's right."

"Okay, if you'll follow me downstairs – that's where the offices are."

They followed him through the dusky auditorium, where the only light came through high windows at the back of the room. There were three sections of pews to their right – center, left, and right as you faced the pulpit – and a small asymmetrical group of pews to their left where apparently there had once been something else. Though it was a building Toni had never been in, it was all somewhat familiar, for most Protestant churches, at least those which aren't very liturgical, conform to the same basic pattern. When they're all doing the same basic things the same basic way, that's not surprising, she thought.