California Sunrise Read Free Page A

immigrants?
    Raúl’s Jetta almost flipped on its nose when he slammed on the brakes in his condo’s driveway. His car door’s
thud!
silenced the frogs in the stream running by his end unit but had no effect on the rustling eucalyptus.
    Or his mood.
    Everyone who looked Hispanic would be hassled more than they already were. Folks like Alicia Fuentes and her son would get screwed, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it.
    She deserved better.
    He strode into his kitchen, grabbed a plate, and thunked down the taqueria burrito he’d purchased on the way home. Not the diet he’d recommend to his patients, but childhood habits were hard to break.
    Dinner in hand, he slumped into his recliner and flicked on Telemundo. When the anchor reported the same news Raúl had heard earlier, the spicy beans and meat in his stomach protested at the acid surge from his anger.
    Too many of his relatives were old before their time, and already too many children didn’t get the vaccines they required. Someone needed to protest these damaging policies.
    But he would remain silent.
    He couldn’t get involved, not with anything or anyone. Especially not a patient. Getting his parents and siblings back into the country had to remain his main focus. A corkscrew of tension twisted up his vertebrae.
    Mierda!
    The doorbell chimed, making him stuff his anger into its usual mental box and smooth his features to the pleasant expression people expected from a professional.
    He pulled open the door without looking through the peephole and immediately regretted it.
    His next-door neighbor, Laura, stood holding a plate covered with aluminum foil. Mid-twenties, her body toned and fit, she was exactly what he needed in a woman—at least that was the impression she’d attempted to give him time and again.
    “Hello.” Her smile was bright and her eyes intelligent. Based on the aroma wafting from the plate she proffered, she was also a good cook. “After your long day, I thought you might be hungry.”
    Automatically, he took the food. “Thank you.” No need to tell her about the half-eaten taqueria bomb in his stomach.
    “If you aren’t too busy Friday night, I’d like to invite you over for dinner. The Ramirezes are coming, too. I was planning on some hamburgers, a few salads.”
    He should go, get to know the neighbors, but if he went, it would mean something to her.
    Uninvolved in anything or anyone.
    He shook his head. “I’m going to have to decline.”
    “But you need to eat.”
    “Some other time.” He looked at the dish in his hand. “Thank you for this. I’ll return the plate soon.”
    “No problem. Any time. I always have coffee ready.”
    “I see. Thank you again.”
    She gave him one more glance, waved, and departed, her seductive walk suggesting he was missing out on something good.
    He tossed the half-eaten burrito in the trash, peeled back the foil on Laura’s dish, and smiled. Enchiladas. He scooped some onto an empty plate.
    Meghan, his college sweetheart, used to make great Mexican, in spite of her Irish roots. He’d put everything he could into the relationship, but his damned depression had condemned it from the beginning.
    “You need help,” Meghan had told him when she’d finally given up on him.
    “I’m fine,” he’d said.
    “No, you’re not, but you can’t see it. You had a rotten childhood, Raúl, but stewing about it for the rest of your life isn’t going to make it any better.”
    “I’m not depressed. Sometimes a little sad, but not too bad.”
    She rolled her eyes, a gesture they both knew he hated “I hope you can move on from your past. Or else you’re going to die a lonely and bitter old man.”
    “Once I get my license, things will get better. It’s just the pressure that’s getting me down.”
    Meghan had shaken her head. “It’s more than that, and you know it, Raúl. I wish you luck.” She’d given him a quick kiss and left. Although his heart had ached every time he’d