“Hi.” She trotted down the steps and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him. The kiss sent warmth all the way to her toes and the tension of the last few hours dissolved. She stepped back.
“Hi.” He smiled slowly. “I’m not late, am I?”
Zita needed a second to get her heart rate under control. “Not at all.” She turned to go back inside, but he tugged her back and kissed her again. She wanted to drag him up to her room and have some alone time with him, but that would have to wait.
As they walked up the steps, he asked, “Would some of your foster sisters be willing to talk to me about their experiences?”
“I can ask. Why?”
“Dad’s running for governor, and wants to make immigration one of his top priorities.”
“In what way?” she asked. Bob Randall didn’t appear to be someone who would be pro-immigration.
“He’s got it wrong at the moment. I want to show him what you do at Casa Flanagan and how you help so many people.”
“And you believe you’ll be able to change his mind?”
“Of course. He’s not unreasonable.”
Zita debated whether to disagree with him. Bridget had had first-hand experience of how unreasonable Bob could be, and Zita’s own experience with him hadn’t been that great. But David knew his father better than she did. “We can ask the girls tonight.”
“Great.”
She pushed aside her concern as they entered the house.
***
Zita had been busy over the past few days sorting out Beatriz’s paperwork. She closed her bedroom door and exhaled. Every time she’d wanted to study for her LSAT, her mother was around and she couldn’t risk Carmen asking what she was doing. She’d felt so guilty even reading the documents, but the test was only ten days away.
Firing up her laptop, she settled on her bed. Was there any point doing the test? The colleges she’d called suggested they wouldconsiderher application if her test scores were good enough, even though she had no undergraduate degree. The fact that she had so much experience with immigration law was a plus, but no guarantee. So she might be wasting her time.
She shook her head. It wasn’t like her to be so pessimistic. Opening the preparation material she’d downloaded, she settled down to read.
After an hour, she rubbed her eyes. The reading comprehension section was dense and she was tired, but that was no excuse. The material she would have to read if she actually passed the test and got into law school would be far more complicated than this. And she would have much more work to do.
Did she really want to go through with this?
Was it worth the time and the effort?
Her mind wandered to the immigration courtroom and the expression on Beatriz’s face when she understood she was safe. Yes, she did want to go through with this. She wanted to offer people like Beatriz hope, to fight for their right to live without fear.
Which meant she needed to focus.
She set the timer on her phone and started the next section.
A knock on her door startled Zita from her work. “Yes?”
The door opened and Carmen poked her head in. “Are you still up?”
Zita shut her screen quickly and said, “Just surfing the net.” The guilt crept over her. Maybe she should tell her mother.
Carmen smiled. “Don’t stay up too late. We’ve got the swap meet tomorrow.”
Feck. She’d forgotten about it. She forced a smile on her face. “I won’t. Night, Mama.” Zita waited until Carmen had closed the door before opening the screen again. She should turn it off. It was already past midnight and she’d have to be up at six. On Friday mornings, they brought any excess produce from their garden to a market largely attended by migrants. It was a busy morning catching up with friends and helping those who needed it.
There wasn’t a lot more she was going to take in tonight anyway.
Switching off her computer, she then snuggled under her covers and went to sleep.
