Have You Seen Luis Velez?(30)

Chapter Seven




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There’s a Saint for That

Raymond stood in another strange hallway, prepared to knock on another unknown door—to talk to another person he didn’t know and might soon learn he did not want to know. His heart pounded harder than usual, and he was tired of that. In fact, he was tired, period. He felt profoundly exhausted by these forays into the world of potentially awkward interactions with strangers.

He had been standing there, in front of the door of yet another Luis Velez, for a strangely long time. How long, he could not have said. But for a good minute he held one hand poised to knock, then dropped it, then raised it again. Then dropped it again.

He closed his eyes and said a . . . well, it would not do to call it a prayer, because Raymond was not at all sure he thought there was a God. And even if there was, it would be terribly rude to come to him with a favor after all these years of not speaking. He had done so once earlier that morning, and it had felt entirely selfish and wrong. No, what he said was more of a whispered entreaty to no one in particular. Maybe out into the universe in case there was anything listening. Maybe to some less ruined part of himself.

“Please let this one be easier.”

As he spoke those words, he heard the sound of voices and laughter coming from the other side of the door. Many voices, all sounding as though they enjoyed each other’s company. Happy family sounds. But they hadn’t just sprung up in that moment, Raymond knew. The voices had been there all along. They had simply gone unregistered. They had taken their time breaking through his dread.

He knocked on the door, and while he waited his heart pounded more vigorously.

A woman answered. A Latina woman in her late thirties. Big and round, with a friendly face. She smiled at him, even though she had no idea who he was or why he had come.

“Yes? Can I help you?”

There was an openness in her words. A tentative expectation that whatever he was bringing to her door could be trusted and would prove itself good.

“I’m looking for Luis Velez.”

Her smile widened and her eyes lit up. Apparently all one needed to do to make this woman’s day was to say that name.

“Yes,” she said. “Come in. We’re having our supper.”

“Oh. I didn’t mean to bother you in the middle of . . .”

But then he stopped, because he wasn’t sure what he was interrupting. It was about three thirty in the afternoon as far as he knew. Right after his brunch with Mrs. G. Neither lunch-nor dinnertime. “Supper,” she had said, but he had no idea if that word meant something different from dinner, or why it would take place so early.

“We have a midday supper on Sundays,” she said, as if reading his confusion. “It’s pretty much the one day the whole family can get together.”

“I shouldn’t bother you, then,” Raymond said.

“No, it’s okay. Come in. Have you eaten?”

Raymond instinctively placed one hand on his belly, almost defensively. He was so full it was nearly painful.

“Oh yes. Thank you. I just had a big Sunday brunch.”

“Well, come in, anyway. We’ll tell Luis you’re here.”

He followed her down a hallway and into a dining room with dark paneling on the walls and a long table, suitable for maybe twelve people. Seated around it Raymond saw an older couple. Grandparents, he guessed. Five children. A girl nearly Raymond’s age. Maybe fifteen from the look of her. Three boys in varying sizes, starting at around five and working up to ten or eleven. Then a toddler girl in a booster seat. At the head of the table sat a heavy and robust man who Raymond assumed must be Luis Velez.

All eyes came up to Raymond.

“Look who’s here, honey,” the woman said.

For a moment, nothing. Everybody just stared.

Then Luis said, “I don’t . . . I’m not sure who this is.”

“Oh,” the woman said. “I’m sorry. I just assumed you two knew each other.”

So that’s that, Raymond thought. She had assumed he was a friend to Luis. Someone Luis would know on sight. That’s why she had invited him in. That’s why she was being so friendly. And now that false notion was gone.

“I’m sorry,” Raymond said. “I wasn’t trying to . . . it wasn’t meant to be . . . you know . . . coming into your home on some kind of false pretense. I just asked if you were here. I wanted to see you and ask you a question. Maybe I should have said right out that you don’t know me. I guess to me it went without saying. But if you want me to go right now, I will. I’m not trying to intrude. I’ll leave if you want me to.”

Raymond stopped talking. Finally. He stood awkwardly, listening to the sheer volume of his words ricochet around in the small room. Everyone was waiting. No one was even chewing anymore, save for the toddler.

“Take a deep breath,” Luis Velez said, his tone soothing. “You don’t have to be afraid of us. We won’t bite you. Tell me what you came here to ask.”

Raymond sighed out a breath he had apparently been holding for too long.

“Please let it be him,” he breathed quietly.

It was only a soft whisper. But it was still louder than he had intended it to be. It had been meant to remain a thought in the privacy of his head. He hoped the words had not made it to anyone’s ears but his own. He would have been embarrassed if someone else had heard.