“You were right. He’s closing us down.”
Julieta’s mother cursed under her breath. “I told you so, mijita. That good-for-nothing son of a bitch. The nerve. Haven’t they taken enough from us?”
“Stop, Amá. What his father did to you is awful, but it is in the past. If you had wanted to go after him for taking your recipe, you should’ve done that years ago. Then we might not be in this mess.”
Mamá didn’t respond.
Julieta locked up the shop. “What are we going to do?”
Mamá shook her head. “I do not know. I can take a job. And someone will hire you. We will be okay.”
But Julieta didn’t want to be just okay or take just some job. She wanted to keep what she had built. And more importantly, she didn’t want Mamá to have to go get another job. Maybe she could retire and focus on her life. With Julieta’s salary, Mamá wouldn’t need to work.
And by putting Mamá on Julieta’s health insurance, she could give Mamá all the medical care she needed.
They crossed the street and passed by some neighbors. The night was clear, and the stars were bright and mystical, but the glorious sky brought little joy to Julieta.
She took a deep breath and let it spill. “You’re right. Someone will hire me—I got a job offer.”
Mamá pinched Julieta’s cheeks. “See? We will be fine. Which restaurant?”
Julieta lowered her voice to a whisper, hoping the freeway noise would drown out her words. “Taco King. Ramón asked me to work for him.”
“That cabrón!” Julieta’s mom shook her fist at the sky. “I hope you told him what he could do with his job.”
“Oh, I did. But Amá, he offered me to be executive chef of the restaurant. For two hundred thousand dollars. And a seventy-five-thousand-dollar signing bonus.”
Mamá dramatically clutched her chest. “Qué?”
“Yup. That’s a lot of money. But I told him no, of course.”
Mamá playfully smacked her daughter’s hand. “Are you crazy? Two hundred seventy-five thousand dollars? Do you know how much money that is?”
“I do. It’s a lot of money. But I can’t work for the enemy.” Sleep with the enemy, maybe, but working for him was definitely out of the question. Julieta had some standards.
Julieta’s mother clasped her hands and said a quick prayer. Then she clutched Julieta’s hand. “You will take the job.”
“Amá! How can you say that? We hate him. He is closing our restaurant. His father stole from you. He can’t be trusted.”
“I didn’t say you had to trust him—I said you had to take the job. That is final.”
“Oh, that’s funny. I thought that I was in charge of my life. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Mamá shook Julieta’s shoulders. “Ay, Julieta. This is a wonderful opportunity. You aren’t married; you won’t have a job soon. This kind of money will allow you to do anything you want. You can open another restaurant; you can make a future for yourself. You will never have an offer like that again.”
That was true. “But it’s a guilt offer for taking over our restaurant. Or because he wants to sleep with me. Or both.”
“I’m sure he wants you, but you don’t have to sleep with him. He is a wealthy businessman. He wouldn’t offer the position to you if he didn’t think that you could do a good job. He ate your food; he knows you are talented.”
Mamá had a point. Why should Julieta let her foolish pride get in the way of her future? “But Amá, it doesn’t feel right at all. I just don’t think I can do it.”
Julieta’s mother shook her head. “Julieta, forty years ago when Arturo stole my recipe, I could’ve pitied myself. I could’ve wrapped myself up in a ball and wallowed in what could have been. When I read that he made millions on my tacos while I was still stuck in Mexico, I could’ve become bitter and ruined my life. But I didn’t do that. Instead, I pulled myself together. I married your father and had you, which was the greatest blessing of my life.”
They paused under a dim streetlight, cumbia music blaring from a house nearby. Julieta wanted to dance the night away and not have to make this decision. “You’re so strong. I don’t think I could’ve done that.”
“Yes, you could’ve, and yes, you can. You are my daughter. But nothing in this life comes easy. When we moved to America, we had nothing. I cleaned houses when you were little, and your father would take any job he could get to put food on the table. But I had a dream. I started selling tacos from my home. I would make food at weddings. I would cater family events. But the most important thing was that I never gave up, and neither can you, mi amor. If cuisine is still your dream, you need to take that job. He is throwing you a lifeline. You need to take it.”
Mamá was right. What other choice did she have? If she turned down this job, she would regret it.
