“Breathe, Corabelle, breathe in,” Tina said.
Gavin turned to me, his hand on my back. “It’s okay, baby. We’re going to be all right. We’ll figure this out.”
“She just got discharged yesterday,” Tina said to the social worker. “She’s had pneumonia.”
“Should I call someone in?” Abigail asked.
“She’ll be okay,” Tina said. “Let’s give her a moment.”
I listened to all this impassively, as if they were talking about someone else. All I could see was Gavin as a child, his expressions, his impish grin, the swirl of his hair over his ears. I realized I had seen it all along in Rosa’s son, and I had known, but was unwilling to acknowledge it.
“That’s better,” Tina said. “Keep breathing. Take it slow.”
The room came back to me, Gavin, leaning in, pulling me to him. He shouldn’t do that, not in front of Rosa. She loved him, she was the mother of his child, his living child, not the dead one, not the one that was not meant to be his.
I pushed away from him, standing up, suddenly wishing I was still in the hospital, a room to go to, a place to shut the door and not have to rely on anyone to take me home. “I need a moment,” I said. “Tina?”
“I’m right here.” She wrapped her arm along my shoulders and I realized what a friend she had become, someone I had scarcely known only a few days ago. I did not know how I would have gotten through this without her.
“Corabelle, please don’t walk away,” Gavin said. “I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”
Rosa stood up too. “I am not here to take Gavin. That is not what I want.”
“Later,” I said. “Later. Let me think about this.”
But Gavin was unrelenting. “If you’re leaving, I’m leaving too.”
“We can work out the papers some other time,” Abigail said. “There is no rush here.”
I walked toward the door, Tina beside me. “Let’s go to the art room,” she said. “We’ll clear your head.”
Gavin tried to follow, jerking the door wide. “I am not letting you go, Corabelle.”
I whirled around. “I may not give you that choice.”
“Okay, let’s go,” Tina said. “Gavin, go figure out your forms. You have some obligations now. Straighten all that out. Give Corabelle some time.”
I turned away, trying not to look at Gavin’s face but seeing it anyway, his stricken expression, his clenched fists, his despair. I felt it too. I felt it all. I’d always felt it. It seemed like I always would.
34: Gavin
The social worker came to the door. “Gavin, I would suggest you give her a little time to absorb this. It’s a big blow, and even without your history, this would be hard for her.”
“What history?” Rosa asked.
I turned around, realizing Rosa knew nothing about Finn, only that I’d chosen to cut off my chances at fatherhood long ago. Bitterness coursed through me. “It must have been real rich for you to realize you were pregnant when you knew damn well I was only in Tijuana because I never wanted to have a kid.”
Rosa dropped back into a chair. “Rich? I do not understand.”
My head was exploding with pressure. “When I met you, you knew I didn’t want kids. That’s why I was in Mexico. To get cut, remember?”
She folded her hands in her lap. “I remember, Gavinito.”
“Don’t CALL ME THAT.” My voice echoed through the room and out into the hall.
Abigail closed the door. “Gavin, try to stay calm.”
“Calm? You’ve obviously never met my father. He’s the one who was never calm. And I’m just like him.” I pointed a finger at Rosa. “And thanks to you, now we’ll have another little fucked-up kid to fuck up more kids.”
Tears slid down Rosa’s face, and I turned away, pissed as hell. Damn it. What the hell was this life trying to do to me? I shouldn’t be around anyone. I shouldn’t be with a fucking soul. Send me to some fucking island.
“Let’s talk about this rationally,” Abigail said. “Gavin, sit down.”
I moved to the far end of the table and dropped into Corabelle’s chair.
“Nothing has to change right this moment.” She tucked the paper inside the folder. “Rosa, are you in the US legally right now?”
Rosa stared at the table, tears dripping onto the surface.
“I’m guessing that’s a no. I’m not here to report you. I just need to know your legal status.”
“She borrowed a border crossing card,” I said.
“Okay.” Abigail pulled a pen from inside the folder and jotted some notes. “Are you planning to get Manuel’s immigration status changed so he can be here in the United States with his father?”
Rosa still didn’t answer.
Abigail reached across the table to rest her hand on Rosa’s wrist. “You have many options here, but if you get deported after we change Manuel’s legal status, you can get sent back without him. We need you to think this through so that we do what is best for everybody.”
“The boy needs his father,” Rosa said.
Abigail glanced at me. “You realize that Gavin’s only obligation will be for child support, and even that can be challenged if you keep the boy in Mexico and do not allow visitation.”
Jesus, they were acting like I wasn’t even there. “I’m not a total asshole,” I said.
“Really?” Abigail shot at me. “Because you were putting on a pretty good imitation of one.”
She was right. God. I had forgotten everything, the promise I made in ICU, the plans in my head just that morning. “I need help,” I said. “I can’t do this by myself.”
Abigail’s free hand reached for mine, creating a bridge between the three of us. “You aren’t by yourself. There’s going to be a lot of people involved. We can get you counseling. We can get you legal aid. But you two are going to need some patience. You have to realize this isn’t going to happen overnight. And you do have to decide what you mean to each other, what you want from this new family that has been formed.”
“I plan to marry Corabelle,” I said. “If she’ll have me after this.”
Abigail nodded. “So you can work on that.” She turned to Rosa. “Do you want to try and immigrate with your son, or return to Mexico?”
“I do not want to be in Gavin’s way,” she said. “I just cannot keep the boy on my own.”
“Are you able to help her financially, Gavin?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what she needs.”
“See, those are the easy answers.” Abigail let go of both of us and returned to her folder. “I’m going to hold on to these papers for now. Rosa, let’s get you and your son safely in Mexico.” She turned to me. “You can plan to visit, help her get settled. I’ll get you appointments with the embassy, some legal aid, and we’ll start the paperwork. In the meantime, get to know your son. I think you’ll find as this settles out, the answers will become simpler.”
“Do you have anywhere to go?” I asked Rosa. “Will your brother kick you out?”
“I don’t know,” Rosa said. “He always helped me before, but the family is angry.”
“Why don’t we call him?” Abigail said. “That sounds like a place to start. You and I can go to my office. Is your boy all right? Do you need to get him?”
“He is with my cousin,” Rosa said. “He is okay.”
Abigail stood up and pulled an envelope from her folder. “Here is your copy of the DNA testing.” She handed it to me. “We’ll be in touch with you. Stay in touch with Rosa.”
I nodded and got up from the chair.
Rosa wiped her eyes and turned to me. “I am sorry I was not careful. But I am not sad about Manuelito. He is the best thing. A joyful boy.”
“I should have known better. I just wished I had known before.”