Tessa
“How do you know they still live in the same house?” I pick at my nails as I sit in the passenger seat of Bianca’s car.
“Because I know.”
I look out the window and watch the city passing me by. Things have changed in the eight years since I was here. Stores I once knew are gone while others have taken their place. Tracks of houses occupy once empty lots. While I was in LA, change happened on a daily basis, so it wasn’t noticeable. The restaurants would last for a few months then they would close. Buildings were always being painted, and the landscape changed, but it wasn’t a big deal. It was Los Angeles. But looking around the town I grew up in, I feel like an outsider.
But I guess I am.
The car slows as she takes a right turn down a road I know all too well. The neighborhood looks good. The car stops in front of a yellow brick house. The once bare windows are now outlined with white shutters, and the grass is replaced with a more desert theme. Rocks and gravel lie where bushes and plants used to be. Two cars sit in the driveway, neither of them I recognize.
“You ready?”
I glance towards Bianca before my eyes land back on the house. “Do you need me to answer that?”
“Let’s get this over with so we can get home.”
Home.
This was once my home. A place I thought I was loved and safe. A place that housed my family. We spent weekend mornings watching cartoons, and holidays surrounding the big wooden table full of laughs and good food. New Year's Eve we’d spend making tamales for the family that we expected the following day for football. My gaze falls on the window to the very right—my childhood room. I wonder what is in that room now.
The slam of a door has me scrambling to open mine. I follow Bianca up the walk towards the house. Before we have a chance to knock, the door opens, and there stands my mother. She looks exactly the same as she did when I was growing up.
“It took you long enough.” Before I can say anything she continues, “Don’t you know you shouldn’t sit in front of anyone’s house these days? Someone will call the cops.”
“I was giving Tessa a moment.”
Silence falls between us, and I grab Bianca’s hand. I want to leave. This is a mistake. My family didn’t care back then, and I know they don’t care now.
“Are you going to invite us in, Gloria?”
She rolls her eyes and unlatches the door, allowing us to enter. “You know where the living room is.”
I make my way through the foyer and notice the change in color. The light-yellow walls are now beige, and the wall that used to be between the living room and kitchen is now gone, making it one large room.
“We had it remodeled two years ago,” my mom says from behind me.
I take a seat on a leather couch. Something else that is new. When I take in the room, I notice that the family pictures are gone, and the bookcases that were on the far wall are also gone. “It looks good.”
She gives me a tight smile before she addresses Bianca. “Can I ask what you’re both doing here?”
“Gloria, stop with your shit. Your daughter has been out of your life for eight years. She’s lived these years alone–”
“Aye, Bianca, she left.”
“Because you told me to!” My hands start shaking. I fist them as I push them into my thighs. “I had no one, and why? Because you were ashamed–”
“It was time,” my mother cuts me off.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Gloria. It was never time. She is your daughter, and she has needed you. You–her parent.”
“Always holier than thou, huh, Bianca? The mighty Bianca Sinclair. Never did a thing wrong in her life. Even riding on the back of a motorcycle playing with all those evil men and you were still an angel, giving forgiveness left and right.”
“This isn’t about me, Gloria. It never was.”
“Wasn’t it?” My mother lifts her brow. Something passes between the two, and I have a feeling this has something more to do with my mother abandoning me. She shifts her attention from Bianca to me. Her face is stone, no emotion while she gazes upon her only daughter. “Why are you here?”
Not being able to find the courage, my gaze drops to my lap. “I’m sick, Mama.”
“Leukemia,” Bianca confirms.
I hear my mother gasp, but I still can’t bring my head up to meet her stare. “What does that have to do with me?”
Not how can I help, or what do you need from me, but what does that have to do with me. I don’t know when my mother became so cruel, or maybe she always was.
“You know what it has to do with you.”
I finally lift my gaze to my mother and see her narrow her gaze towards Bianca. She shakes her head. “No. This has nothing to do with me.” She stands and turns her back on us, making her way towards the front door. “I’m sorry, Tessa. I remember what I went through the first time, but this has nothing to do with me.”
“Maldita sea, Gloria! Dile la Verdad. Dale la oportunidad de vivir porque no voy a ser yo quien lo haga. Ayuda a salvar a tu hija.” God damn it, Gloria! Tell her the truth. Give her a chance to live because I'm not going to be the one to do it. Help save your daughter.
“Maybe it’s time you get your hands dirty, Bianca. Maybe it’s time you atone for your husband’s actions. Now, if you’d please leave.”
When Bianca gets up, I follow with my head down. My heart aches. Never would I ever be so spiteful towards Sam. He’s a blessing. If I had more than one child, I would be thankful for each and every one of them.
Bianca stops in front of my mother, who is standing with the front door open. “Que Dios me apiade de tu alma.” May God have mercy on your soul.