Chapter Thirty-Three
Ricky
“ARE YOU OK?”
“What happened at home? Let me know you’re all right.”
Shaking my head, I checked my phone for the hundredth time since class let out before going into my kitchen. I’d called three times and texted twice. No response. My gut twisted, worry coursing through me. Please call, mariposa. Call me.
“Hola, Mama.” I kissed my mother’s wrinkled cheek and pulled out a kitchen chair. She stirred some soup on the stove, ladling a large helping into a bowl and placing it in front of me.
“Teresa made this for dinner, Ricardo. Eat up and enjoy.” After serving me, Mom sat down, rifling through the mail and sipping on a mug of tea.
I scarfed the soup down. Scraping the last bits from the bowl, I sat back, belly full, but my mind anything but content. “Mama, I have to tell you some bad news.”
She sat back, her wrinkled face pinched. “Go on.”
“Ed’s closing the bike shop. By the end of the month, I’ll be out of a job. I’m sorry. I know how much we need that money.” I rubbed the back of my neck, hoping to ease the tension that pulsed and pounded through my body.
Her lips flattened, her gaze lingering on a stack of overdue bills. “We’ll make do. We always find a way.”
Stretching my legs in front of me, I crossed my arms over my chest. “Actually, I have a different idea. I’ve been thinking through this for a while and I acted on it recently.”
Mama waited, eyebrows raised. I hesitated but decided the only way to say this was fast, ripping off the proverbial Band-Aid quickly in hopes of it hurting less.
“My friend Aveline, who I brought here, and you met, is the girl Papa saved from drowning.” I blurted it out, holding my breath and waiting for her reaction.
She nodded, her face impassive. “Ah, that is why she was good to your Papa.”
Um, that was it? That was the least dramatic response ever. Who needed the Band-Aid approach?
“No.” I shook my head. “She doesn’t know that Papa is the one who saved her.”
“What?” Mama’s eyes rounded, and she sat ramrod straight. This was the reaction I expected in the first place.
“I found out during our psychology class. She was called to the front of the class to talk about a traumatic event.”
Mama nodded, encouraging me to go on.
“I’d been talking to my friends about trying to find the girl Papa had saved for about a year.” Mama’s eyes widened again, her jaw dropping open.
I quickly continued. “When I realized it was her, I followed her out of class. She’s very rich, Mama.”
Her wide eyes narrowed. “So?”
I reared back in my chair. “So? So how is that fair? We’re poor, barely making it by and the girl Papa saved is rich. Her parents are rich. Her parents, the ones that should have saved her. Not my Papa.” My voice was brittle, my words spit out with pent-up anger and venom.
“What did you do, Ricardo?” Mama asked, her head cocked to the side, hand over her heart.
Heat ignited on my face and neck, raging like an out of control wildfire. Where was her solidarity? Her anger? Her desire for revenge? “At first, I decided to get to know her so that I could meet her parents. My plan was to go to them and demand they help us as pay back for saving their daughter’s life. But as I got to know Aveline, I realized she was special. I didn’t want her to get hurt, so I never told her.”
Mama sat forward, her body leaning closer to me. “You got to know her and never told her your connection?”
I swallowed hard, a boulder forming in my throat. “No, I kept it from her. And then I texted her parents anonymously, demanding money for Papa.”
Mama gasped, her hands in prayer formation over her mouth.
“As soon as I sent the texts, I got scared. She wouldn’t want to be with me if she knew the truth. I wanted to keep her safe from my intentions because her heart is pure. Now, I love her, and I’m afraid I’ll lose her when she finds out what I did.”
Mama’s face dissolved into a look of adoration. “You love her?”
I nodded, my voice clogged with emotion. “I do.”
“You must go to her and ask for forgiveness. Now, Ricardo. Tonight.” Her body was straight again, her face determined.
“Mama.” My eyebrows were drawn, neck craned. “Hold on. I don’t understand. What about the money for Papa? Don’t you want me to ask her parents for help?”
Mama closed her eyes, her fingertips rubbing her forehead. “No, son. I don’t. And I should have never let you turn down your scholarship. You insisted, and we needed the money, but now you’re jaded and rough. You think the world owes you something.” She took my hands in hers. “Listen to me, please. The world owes you nothing. It owes me nothing. Your father and I came here from Peru to give you and your sisters a better life. You are living it. This poverty here is nothing like what we would have experienced back home. Now you go to college. You drive a motorcycle. Your sister will become a doctor. Your other sister will become whatever she wants. We have shelter, medical care, and food. We have each other. We aren’t rich son, but we are blessed.”
I shook my head, tears burning my eyes. “Mama, what about Papa? What about his life? It’s not fair. I never had a father. You missed out. We all missed out. Because of someone else’s negligence.”
Mama stood up, moving around the table. She pulled me up and out of my chair. “I wish you would have talked to me about this anger inside you long ago. I would have told you that your father and I carry none of it. One thing I know, to the depths of my soul, is the man your father is. Ricardo, God in all his glory above gave us the ultimate gift. He gave us free will. Your father, on a sunny summer day, exercised that free will and dove in a lake to save a young girl. He got terribly hurt, yes, but he lived. I know his life has been a loss to you, but if given the choice, I know with all that I am he would make the same choice. He would save that child again.”
A lone tear ran down my cheek. The last time I felt tears rolling down my cheeks was on the day of my father’s accident.
“And I know the man you are. You would save the life of a child too. Do I wish that he could have saved Aveline and not been hurt? Of course. Do I wish I could give you, your father, and the girls more? A nicer home, clothes, schools, therapies? Of course. But I cannot waste away my life on wishes. I believe that God will reward your father. In some ways, he already has. Your father’s brain works perfectly. He and I communicate through our eyes. He has had the privilege of watching you three kids grow. He used his free will. He made a choice. The right one.”
She took in a shaky breath and continued. “Now think about Aveline’s parents. They used free will that day too. I don’t know what happened, but they weren’t paying attention to her when she fell in. That was free will. They had to watch a stranger save their daughter because of that choice. Don’t you think that haunts them to this day? Wouldn’t that be a punishment in and of itself?”
My mind raced with all of this knowledge—faith, love, and sorrow warred. Thoughts I had never had and never processed. “And now you have free will, Ricardo. You must choose to do the right thing. Be honest. Apologize. Love her and hope she loves you. But she has her own free will and she will decide the course of her life and her heart.”
She kissed my cheeks, wiping away my tears with her thumbs. “Leave here and fight for who you love, knowing that I harbor no anger for an accident. I get to see the man I love every day and know he is a hero. And I have three beautiful, amazing children. Who needs money, mijo, when you have family and strength?”
My tongue felt thick in my mouth. Had I really been wrong for so long? Had my anger taken over my life completely? I had my family. We were strong. And now I had my girl, my love.
Forgive me. Remember that we are all that matters.