“You’re not my mother,” Rebecca said, straight as an arrow into Laura’s heart. Laura dropped to her knees and grabbed Rebecca so tight, she’d have to leave her limbs behind to break free of Laura’s grasp.
“You listen to me, you’re not going anywhere but back to bed. And we’re gonna see this thing through. You and me!”
“Why did you lie to me?”
“What did you want me to do? Tell you yes, your nightmares are real?”
Laura held Rebecca till both of their eyes were overflowing with tears. Rebecca’s emotions were a combination of fear and confusion; fear of the truth that awaited her, of seeing her mother as a stranger, of feeling lost — alone, and the confusion of the sudden rush of feelings for another family, emotions of painful loss — and reunion.
Rebecca stopped trying to wriggle away, giving in. She blew saliva bubbles as she cried. Laura drew a deep breath, calming herself.
“I’m sorry, baby. I know how hard this has all been for you; moving here, Daddy leaving, school, everything. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.” Laura pulled Rebecca to her breast, hugged her deeply, as if trying to draw her into her own body, shield her from the cruel world. “It’s gonna be okay. You hear me? We’re gonna get through this.”
“We?” Rebecca said, her voice full of disillusion. Rebecca broke free of her embrace, leaving Laura on her knees. Rebecca moved towards the front door. Laura watched incredulously as Rebecca reached for her jacket. She turned the doorknob, opening it to depart into the cold night, come what may.
Laura saw red and leaped to her feet. Now it was a battle of wills. She stormed over and slammed the door shut so hard it shook the foundation of the rickety old house. “Stop it!” Laura shouted. The shock caused Rebecca to abruptly reverse course and head back towards the kitchen.
Rebecca reached for the phone again and began to dial. Laura chased after her, tearing the phone from her hands. “Enough!” Laura tossed the phone across the room.
Rebecca back peddled, turned, and fainted flat out onto the kitchen floor. Laura watched it happen in slow motion. She tried to lunge her arms out to catch her in time, but wasn’t fast enough. She crumpled down beside Rebecca, whose face was pale and moist.
She cradled her small head. “Rebecca? Rebecca, please speak, open your eyes.”
Laura could see Rebecca’s eyes swim back and forth beneath her thin, swollen eyelids. Slowly they fluttered and her eyes opened. Rebecca looked at her mother, this time with familiarity, as if waking from a terrible nightmare.
“My head hurts,” Rebecca said softly.
Laura looked into her eyes and saw her little girl again. Her daughter was back, her spirit home from whatever dark place it had just journeyed. The universe had heard her cries and agreed to return Rebecca’s soul to its rightful owner. Tears drained from Laura’s very being and she let them release.
“Oh God,” Laura said, her voice raspy, hollow. “Please…give me the strength.” She hugged Rebecca tightly.
Upon hearing those words, Rebecca realized there was only one person that could help her; herself. She stared up at the ceiling, plotting her next move.
CHAPTER 43
The obstetrician glided the ultrasound across Patricia’s petroleum slicked belly. At 34 weeks, the baby’s features were clearly visible. Patricia looked at the monitor and swore her baby was waving back at her. “You see that, Bobby?”
“I see it,” Robert said, squeezing his wife’s hand, relishing a moment they had waited so long to enjoy. All the years of disappointment, the miscarriages, the hoping. There was no stopping this miracle. Just a few more weeks.
Martha, their obstetrician — who wore three pairs of glasses draped around her neck; one for reading, one for seeing, and one pair that darkened in sunlight — slid the sensor to the other side of Patricia’s abdomen, who winced from the cold tickle.
“You sure you don’t wanna know the sex?”
Patricia looked at her proud, wide-eyed husband, lost in the moment. “We’ve waited this long.”
“We want it to be a surprise,” Robert said, finishing her sentence.
“Like opening a present.”
“Well, he…or she, is doing excellent. Size, weight look normal for 34 weeks. You wanna hear the heartbeat?”
They both nodded. The nurse turned a dial and the electronic squelch of the baby’s heartbeat filled the room. Robert gently squeezed Patricia’s hand in silent triumph.
Martha lifted the device off her stomach and draped a towel across. She winked at Robert, who took the hint and began gently wiping his wife clean. Martha wheeled the machine over to the wall and grabbed a paper towel to wipe her hands. “I recommend you stay close to home from here on in.”
“Oh, we have our route mapped and everything,” Patricia said. She pulled Robert close and planted a firm kiss on his lips, embarrassing him.
On the drive home, Patricia had an overwhelming feeling of optimism; she couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. The world was perfect for a moment. She looked across at Robert, driving extra cautiously, which made her smile widen even more. She placed her hand on his leg and tapped it a few times.
Soon other thoughts began entering her mind, from baby proofing the furniture, to vacuuming the rug and other mundane everyday tasks. And they were having a baby shower in a few days. Then there was the packing for the move, calls to make, paperwork, mail forwarding. Slowly, reality started creeping back in.
“You know, my mom’s so upset about the move, she’s treating this get together like a damn funeral,” Patricia said.
“She can always visit,” Robert said, not really listening, deep in thoughts of his own.
“You know she won’t get on a plane.” Robert pumped his eyebrows, victoriously. Patricia frowned and looked out the window. The clouds passed in front of the sun, graying out the blue sky. “You go see Jack?” Robert’s smile lost its luster. She knew what that look meant. “It doesn’t matter.”
Robert suddenly seemed preoccupied with driving, evasive. “This is a very positive moment in our lives. If your brother doesn’t want to be a part of it, that’s his loss. You tried.”
CHAPTER 44
A string of bells hanging on the door rang out as Jack entered Rivera’s Auto Repair Shop. It was lively inside, the busy sound of pneumatic tools and banging wrenches shouting back and forth. He leaned over the grimy counter to peer into the garage. A Hispanic man with thick salt and pepper hair, wearing faded red overalls, came in and placed a set of keys on a cork board hook. He swiped a customer’s credit card through a reader and waited.
“I’m looking for a Mr. Rivera?” Jack said.
“I’m Rivera,” he answered, not looking at Jack. The machine buzzed and spit out a receipt. He tore it off and stapled it to a form. When he turned to face Jack, Rivera could tell immediately he wasn’t there to have his car repaired.
“I’m looking for Victor Rivera,” Jack said, his voice implying this older gentleman could not be the man he was looking for. He placed the picture of Victor and Carmen on the counter to emphasize his point.
“Where you get this?”
“You know him?”
“He’s my son.”
“Is he here?”
“He’s under the lift, he’s working.”
“What’s your name?” Jack asked.
“Alfonse.”
“Alfonse, I need to speak to Victor.”
Alfonse wiped his mouth with his dirty hand, not moving. Jack couldn’t tell if he was ignoring his request, or if he didn’t understand. Jack flashed his detective’s badge.
“Can you ask him to come out, or do I need to go in and get him.”