CHAPTER 36
The attorney’s office had finally quieted down.
Silvia checked the clock and was surprised to find it was after hours, the waiting room empty.
Good. That made it easier to concentrate.
She hunched over the desk again, losing herself in a file, until someone cleared their throat.
Sharon Weintraub was standing in front of her.
Silvia snapped to attention. “What do you need?”
“Nothing,” Sharon said easily. “You’re off work. You can go home now.”
Silvia grimaced. “Do I have to?”
Sharon laughed. “You can’t sleep here. Aren’t you hungry?”
Silvia gestured at the remains of a sandwich she had packed before school. “I’m fine. Are you closing up for the night?”
“No,” Sharon said. “I just need the Hernandez file.”
“Oh!” Silvia moved aside the stack of papers she’d been poring over and handed her a manila folder.
Sharon barely glanced at it. “What are you up to?”
“Going through old cases. Is that all right?”
“Knock yourself out.” Sharon strolled toward her office but stopped and turned before entering. “Prom is this week, isn’t it?”
Silvia’s stomach sank. She kept her answer upbeat. “Yup!”
“What are you wearing?”
Now she had to mask her irritation. All anyone wanted to talk about lately was dresses and corsages, none of which seemed important to her. “I’m not sure yet.”
Sharon blinked. “Cutting it a little close, aren’t you?”
“Not really,” Silvia said between gritted teeth. “I’ll put something together at home.”
Sharon continued to stare. “Like a dress from a previous dance?”
“No, this will be my first.”
“Prom is about as fancy as it gets.”
“I’m aware of that!” Silvia snapped.
Sharon raised her hands in surrender. “All right, all right!”
Panic replaced irritation. She’d just gotten snippy with her boss! “Sorry.”
“You’re good.” Sharon didn’t seem upset. She opened the folder she was holding and wandered back into her office.
Silvia struggled to find her place again.
She could already imagine Omar’s disappointment, but spending hundreds of dollars on a prom dress was ridiculous and unnecessary.
Besides, enchantment couldn’t be bought.
The evening was either going to be romantic or not, regardless of what either of them wore.
What a trivial concern! She had better things to expend her mental energy on. Like the old case she’d been reading.
Silvia lost herself in the details again, jerking upright when she heard the door to Sharon’s office click shut behind her. She checked the clock. The minute hand had made quite a bit of progress.
“Okay, now I’m kicking you out,” Sharon said before nodding at the open file. “Which one are you reading?”
“Ignacio Castillo,” Silvia said. “He got deported.”
Sharon grimaced. “I remember.”
“He shouldn’t have been.”
“I agree.”
“Then why weren’t you able to—” She pressed her lips together rather than finish the thought.
“I don’t win them all,” Sharon said with a shrug.
“But his wife had legal status. She petitioned on his behalf! He’d been living here for ten years, working the same job. They did everything right!”
Sharon shook her head. “Not exactly. He’d tried entering the country twenty years prior on false pretenses. And he had a criminal record.”
Silvia had just gotten to that part. “Shoplifting baby food!”
“Correct,” Sharon said. “He had a kid he was trying to feed. But you put those things in front of the wrong judge, and all they’ll see is a con man and a thief.”
Silvia crossed her arms. “It’s not fair.”
“Hey, I did what I could.”
“That wasn’t directed at you,” she replied. “I just think the system sucks.”
“You and me both. We can’t change it though.”
“Are you sure? There has to be something we can do.”
“Go into politics.”
“Maybe I will!”
Sharon smiled at her determination. “That’s a battle for another day. I could use your help with something else tonight. If you have the time.”
Silvia shot to her feet. “Of course!” This was the most exciting aspect of her job.
She never knew what Sharon would ask of her.
Like when they had gone to the police station to free Mr. Reyes and she had pretended to be his daughter.
Or more recently, a client was certain that immigration officers kept parking outside his workplace.
Silvia had approached the car, under the pretense of needing directions, and caught a middle-aged couple in the middle of a lovers’ quarrel.
Whatever they were up to—an illicit affair most likely—their shifty behavior had nothing to do with legal status.
Silvia enjoyed the detective work, especially for cases that had positive outcomes. Those that weren’t successful, mercifully fewer, troubled her deeply.
“What happened to Ignacio Castillo?” she asked as they drove down darkened streets. “Did he find a way of reuniting with his wife and daughter?”
“No idea,” Sharon said, her thumb nervously tapping the steering wheel.
“That’s the nature of the job. You meet people in a moment of crisis, and whether or not you manage to help them successfully, they disappear from your life again.
I’d follow up with more of them if I wasn’t so swamped.
” She peered at Silvia as they passed beneath a streetlight.
“Everything okay at home? Your folks are doing all right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why are you digging through old files?”
“I didn’t realize that my parents would have to leave the country once I’m old enough to petition on their behalf.
” Silvia’s pulse matched the pace of Sharon’s jittery thumb.
“I always imagined that we’d go to the courthouse together and prove to a judge that they’re good people, but that’s not how it works, is it? ”
“No,” Sharon replied. “If they came to the country illegally, they’d have to leave and enter again through official channels.”
“Which means if the petition fails, they’ll be stuck in Mexico.”
Sharon nodded. “That is a risk.”
“So by wanting to help them, I might actually be ruining what they already have.”
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained. By the time you’re twenty-one, the laws might have changed to be more favorable. I wouldn’t worry much about it now.”
“But—”
“So who’s taking you to prom?” Sharon asked, forcing a change of subject. “Is it the Joey Lawrence looking guy who keeps coming around the office?”
Silvia laughed. “Yes, that’s him.”
“What’s his name?”
“Omar.”
“You never forget your high school sweetheart. Mine was Rodney Biscuit.”
Silvia snorted.
Sharon glanced at her. “I’m serious. You should have seen me the first time I met his father.
I kept having to call him Mr. Biscuit. I couldn’t keep a straight face.
I don’t think he would have minded. He was over the moon that Rodney had finally brought a girlfriend home.
I didn’t realize he thought of me in those terms until then.
I kept Rodney at arm’s length most of the time, even though he was a sweet guy.
He’d always pack me a lunch. I was never good at taking care of myself.
My dad worked nights. He was a good provider, but not a nurturer. ”
“What about your mother?” Silvia asked.
“She wasn’t around.”
“How come?”
“Reasons. We did fine, just the two of us, but I do think it’s better when families stick together.
Not always, but often. So anyway, poor Rodney Biscuit spent most of high school chasing after me.
I’d throw him a bone on occasion, because I did like him, but I was always restless.
That’s what my father called it. I was big into extracurriculars and clubs, not really with any particular direction in mind.
I took my first job at fourteen. Staying home didn’t hold any appeal.
Nobody was ever there. Maybe I should have invited Rodney over more.
I still remember how his hands shook the first time he touched me.
He was that excited. Or nervous. I don’t know. ”
Silvia shifted to face her better. “Did you love him?”
Sharon nodded. “In my own way. Do you love Omar?”
“Yes,” she said, without hesitation. But then, because it suited her a little too well, she added the same caveat. “In my own way.”
Sharon shook her head. “You remind me way too much of myself at that age. Different motivations, but the same relentless drive. That’s what I need your help with actually. I have a few regrets.”
They pulled up in front of a dress shop.
“What are we doing here?” Silvia asked.
Sharon sighed. “I never went to prom. I blew off Rodney junior year because of a trip to DC my debate club took. Money was tight. So was time. He didn’t ask again senior year.
By then, some other girl had noticed him, and she was a lot more available than me.
I didn’t resent that. I was relieved. I ran into Rodney a few years ago.
He had a gaggle of kids trailing behind him.
I could tell that his wife had never heard of me.
He’s happy. I’m happy for him, but he also represents everything I missed out on.
I could start a family of my own, if I ever chose to, but some things you don’t get to do over again.
If you miss your chance, that’s it. Prom didn’t seem important to me when I was your age.
Maybe it isn’t. I’d like to find out, so I need you to do some field research and report back to me.
” She nodded at the store. “I’ll cover your expenses. ”
The offer was generous, but unnecessary. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I know my priorities are in the right order.”
“They probably are. I don’t have many regrets. But just imagine meeting Omar’s wife and children twenty years from now. Wouldn’t you like knowing you had a little piece of him that no one else could ever touch?”