There was a collage of snapshots of Carmen and family on the refrigerator. Rebecca turned and looked up at Francisco. He gave her a curious smile.
Hester pulled out a chair at the kitchen table for Laura to sit down. The table had a floral pattern of yellow and pink under an outdated laminate, scratched and stained from years of use. Laura remembered it.
“Would you like something to drink, Laura? Some tea?”
“Yes, please.” Hester put the kettle on the stove.
“How about you, Rebecca?” Hester opened the fridge and bent to search inside, moving a few items. “I have some juice…” Rebecca was silent. “No?”
“Rebecca? Manners?” Laura said, sticking her neck out and opening her eyes wide to emphasize her point.
Hester closed the fridge and walked over to Rebecca, who was fascinated by an oil painting hanging in the hallway. Hester stood behind Rebecca, joining her in admiration.
“My daughter paint this. You like?”
“The color’s faded,” Rebecca said flatly. Hester didn’t quite hear.
“It’s my favorite. That is Saint Peter.”
“Saint Joseph,” Rebecca corrected. Hester’s eyes swiveled down to Rebecca. A sudden, odd tension filled the room.
“What?” Hester said, very interested in what Rebecca had to say now. But the moment was interrupted as the family dog somehow managed to escape from the room he’d been quarantined in. He raced across the floor and dove right for Rebecca. Rebecca’s eyes burst with a sudden joy, she knelt down to embrace the slobbering animal.
“Faucet!” she cried out. Hester turned to Laura, somewhat stunned.
“You told her about the dog?” Hester asked. Laura slowly put her hand to her mouth, touching her lips with her fingers.
“No.”
Rebecca and the dog were like old friends, a bond reunited. The dog licked her face like she was made of sugar, slobbering all over her, much to Rebecca’s infinite delight. She laughed with squeals of joy.
“He really likes you,” Hester said as Laura’s eyes shifted back and forth. “That dog won’t die. Just sleeps and eats. So old.”
The dog jumped up, knocking Rebecca over playfully. “Okay, Faucet, okay!” Rebecca laughed.
“Okay is right; Francis, put him outside.” Francisco leapt into action and grabbed the dog by the collar. “Vete aquí, let’s go.” He pulled the dog to the front door and pushed him outside. The dog tried to nose his way back in, so Francisco used his knee to corral him and closed the door.
Hester sat down at the kitchen table. Rebecca got back up on her feet and brushed herself off, her dress damp from the dogs saliva. Laura stared at her.
“Come here,” Hester said to Rebecca. Rebecca didn’t budge.
“Rebecca—” Laura insisted she listen. Rebecca slowly obeyed and drifted towards the table.
“Rebecca, how did you know my dog’s name?” Rebecca blinked but didn’t answer. “I don’t bite, come here.” Rebecca took another step forward. Hester reached out to tickle Rebecca under her chin. “Well?”
“Because I named him,” Rebecca said. The room fell silent. Hester’s eyes opened wide — but not from Rebecca’s outlandish remark — something else had caught her attention.
“Where… where did she get that?” Hester said, almost stuttering.
Laura stood up and lifted Rebecca’s chin. She saw the gold cross around her neck. Laura frowned, not at Rebecca, but at Jack for giving it to her. “Where she get it?” Hester repeated.
“A friend gave it to her,” Laura said apologetically.
“The detective?”
“Yes.”
Hester stood slowly. “That belong to Carmen.” Rebecca took a step back, holding the cross with her fingers, protectively.
“I’m sorry,” Laura said, reaching for the necklace. Rebecca dodged her defiantly.
“Why she wearing it?”
“Rebecca, give her back the necklace.”
“But it’s mine.”
“Rebecca, now.” Laura grabbed her arm to pull her close but she resisted, twisting and squirming away. “I’m sorry, we’ve been having some problems. Rebecca, now!”
“No!” Rebecca shouted. She looked at Hester. “You gave it to me, for my first communion.”
Hester’s face went pale. She turned to Laura. “What does she mean?”
Rebecca broke free and held up the cross. There was a tiny inscription on it. Laura reached again and Rebecca slapped her hands away. She read the inscription aloud — not looking at it — from memory:
“El te bendice con su amor. Dios te bendinga, hoy Y siempre.”
As Rebecca recited those words, Hester mouthed the same, simultaneously.
Laura stood dumbstruck.
“Why? Why are you?” Hester’s mouth was quivering.
“I know it sounds crazy,” Laura said, “but… Rebecca thinks she remembers this place. Remembers you. She has these dreams, that she and Carmen…are the same person.”
Rebecca caught a closer look at the framed photo of Carmen amongst the flowers. A yellow flag in the center read: In loving memory. “Please don’t be angry,” Rebecca whispered softly to Hester.
Hester turned to look at the photo, sorrow welling up in her eyes. “The night she disappear, we had a fight. I said things. Terrible things. I tell her, Jesus will never take you now, you have shamed him, shamed yourself. She rip her cross from her neck and throw it at me. She never come home—” Hester’s words got caught in her throat from the emotion. It spilled out, tears flowing.
Francisco stepped towards her, reaching out. “Mama?”
“I pray and pray; please, Jesus, I honor you every day of my life. I ask, please, give me another chance. Please, let me speak to my daughter one last time…tell her how much I love her.” Hester’s eyes closed with grief.
Laura got caught up in the emotion too. “These last few months have been so hard… I didn’t know what to do. I thought if I brought her here, it would satisfy something, but… Oh God, Rebecca.”
Hester turned to Laura, gulping air, her eyes draining tears. “How…?”
Laura smiled. “I don’t know—”
“How dare you?”
“What?”
“Get out!” Hester shouted, her face red. Her words were like a slap across Laura’s cheek. Laura looked back with absolute confusion, nearly losing her balance as the rage in Hester’s voice grew with intensity. “Get out of my home!” Her voice echoed loudly in the tiny kitchen, the air in the room grew hot.
Rebecca reached for Hester, but Hester slapped her hand away like it was diseased. Hester’s cheeks hardened with anger and resentment. Rebecca recoiled at the fierceness of Hester’s disgust. Laura hugged Rebecca close.
“How dare you come here and tell me that my Carmen is anywhere but by the side of Jesus!” Hester nearly fell over with rage. Francisco reached for her. “Cuidado, Mama!” As he comforted her, he looked over at Laura. “I think you should go. I’m sorry.” His sorry was genuine and heartfelt, as if a part of him believed.
Hester wailed, collapsing into her chair in a pile of grief, head down. Francisco rubbed her shoulders. She came up for air, face wet and contorted from crying. “My Carmen sits beside Jesus in Heaven!”
Rebecca pushed out her bottom lip as her face went red. She too started to cry. Laura pulled her towards the door.
“I’m so sorry, for everything,” Laura said. Francisco gave her a nod of understanding. Satisfied with that, Laura exited with Rebecca.
She held her hand as they descended the steps in retreat. She could still hear Hester crying out, “Jesus cradles her in his arms! Jesus cradles her in his arms!”
As they reached the ground, Rebecca pulled away from Laura and raced back up the steps. “Rebecca!”