Page 91 of No Darker Temptation

When I was thirteen-years-old and my father was nowhere to be found so I had to sit alone in a frigid, bright, unforgiving hospital room and watch as a stone-faced doctor who hadn’t known my mother, didn’t care about her, and whose existence meant less to him than a dead bug under his shoe, pulled the trigger on her life support. Because her death wasn’t a short or clean one. Sure, she wrapped herself around a tree, intoxicated and half-delirious on sleeping pills. But that wasn’t the end. It didn’t kill her in a single, clean swoop.

Death lingered for days and then continued for weeks. Three to be exact. She was conscience for the first days in the hospital, which most doctors considered a miracle. Then she was hit with one brain aneurysm after another. Not enough oxygen reached her brain during that time and when she flatlined, I thought it was the end. But no.

A pair of doctors and four nurses resuscitated her and I know they were doing their jobs, but I wanted them to let her die. I often wished she’d been left to die at the scene of the accident to save both of us the hospital horrors that came after. They got her body breathing but she never regained consciousness again. Fifteen days later, she was dead.

“¿Señora Narvaez?”

Doctor Perez touches my shoulder. I realize he’s speaking to me. Why wouldn’t he think I have the same last name as everyone else? I just lied and said I was married to his patient’s grandson.

“¿Estás bien?”

I open my mouth to respond but Pedro enters the room. I consider it a mercy when he swoops in and takes over the conversation, likely pretending to be part of the family as well so he can be here.

Lettie is still crying and I make my way to the other side of the bed. Don Salazar is stroking Lettie’s hair but he’s very weak, very quiet. Seeing him this way hurts more than I thought it would. We’ve never been particularly close as he spends most of his time in Trieste nowadays but he’s always been kind to me.

When we lock gazes, he manages a smile. “Come to see if I’ve put you in my will?”

I muster up a smile and lean down to kiss his forehead. “Putting up with your grandson entitles me to at least half,” I whisper. “Don’t you think?”

He tries to laugh but the effort strains him. Lettie sits up and fusses over him, frantically fluffing his pillows and tucking in the blanket at his sides.

“Are you okay? Are you comfortable?” She sniffles and drags a hand under her eyes to wipe away the runny mascara. Her voice drops to a whisper. “Do you want me to see if they have first class hospital rooms?”

“Leticia!”

“What?” she snaps at me. “It looks…very ‘down on one’s luck’ in here.”

“Hey.” Pedro comes up behind me and gives the old man an affectionate pat on the leg. “Usted sigue muy fuerte, viejito.”

Lettie chips in. “Who are you calling old? Maldito estúpido…go get my grandfather a Jell-O cup!”

My head swings around. “Lettie that was mean!”

“It’s fine.” Pedro places a hand on my arm and tilts his head. “Come on.”

We step out of the room for a second so he can give me a breakdown of what the doctor said.

“It’s called a transient ischemic attack. A mini stroke,” he says by way of explanation. “Won’t last longer than twenty-four hours.”

“So he’ll be okay?”

“He will. But it could be a warning sign that there’s a more serious underlying issue which is why, whether the old man likes it or not, he’s getting an in-depth physical asap.”

“I take it he doesn’t like doctors?”

Pedro makes his face and the way his nose scrunches up reminds me of a piglet. “He likes doctors. Doctor Vicks VapoRub.”

I laugh.

“Listen.” He shifts uncomfortably. “I got a hold of Dimitrio.”

“Finally. What happened? Is Alex with him?”

“About that…”

POSITIONS

Alejandro