Page 60 of Blue Sky

I wanted to scream at him. Then why didn’t you marry her? And then I wanted to scream at my mom, why didn’t she take him back?

But unfortunately, I didn’t need to ask those questions. Because deep down, I knew the answers.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but if you will let me, I’d like to have a relationship with you. We can take it slow. Tell me about yourself. What do you do for work?”

Ha. Was this man clueless? Maybe this was why my mom didn’t want him back. He would never understand the realities of my life, the realities of the poverty that I lived in. Did he really think a poor girl from El Centro could just get a job?

“I just moved here last week with my little sisters, Mónica and Ana María. Mónica is fourteen and Ana María is six. I was valedictorian of my high school class, but I didn’t go to college because someone had to take care of my sisters. My mom is a mess. She’s an alcoholic. Luckily, this year a Blue Angel hired me to be his nanny, his wife died. He paid me ten thousand dollars and I used the money to move out here. I plan to rent a small place for us in Chula Vista and I’m looking for work now.”

And there it was. My story. I left out the part where I fell madly in love with Beck, where he had fallen in love with me also, where he had begged me to move with him to Florida, where I had told him no and had broken his heart. Where I had left little baby Sky, an angel who loved me, an angel who relied on me.

And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. My mother had been right. I was just like her.

If I believed this man, then she had rejected him, not because she didn’t love him, but out of fear. Fear that she wasn’t good enough, fear that he would never really love her, fear that she would never be accepted.

And that fear had ruined her life.

And mine.

¡Ay, Dios mío!What had I done?

Instead, she settled. Believing she only deserved a man like Mónica’s father, a drunk or even worse, Ana María's father, an abuser.

And now, her life was a mess. She probably drank to forget the love of my father.

And she had rejected him because she loved me. And now, she didn’t even have me. For her own daughter hated her.

I sipped the tea and the jasmine calmed me down. For the first time in my life, I felt like I understood my mom.

And maybe, I could even forgive her.

“You live here now? Wow. That’s a blessing. Why don’t you bring your sisters over to Sunday dinner and we can get to know each other.”

“I’d like that.”

He gave me a tour of his beautiful home, and I pushed back a twinge of jealousy. This should be my home. I could’ve grown up here.

I had to be certain he was my father. “Sir, do you mind if we take a DNA test? I brought a test. Just to know for sure.”

“Not at all. But Paloma, one look at you and I know you are my daughter. Here, let me show you something.”

He went into the house and then returned a few minutes later with a picture. The edges were frayed, and the picture looked yellow. But there was no mistaking the woman in the picture. It was my mother, her long dark hair flowing in the wind. But the oddest thing about the entire picture was that she looked just like me.

We swabbed our cheeks and put the swabs into a plastic bag. I would mail it tomorrow. And then I would know for sure.

We sat in the garden and discussed his long military career. He had been an Angel and then had flow fighter jets. They had lived all around the world and finally settled in Coronado. He had been stationed here for the last five years.

My father had lived two hours away from my house for the last five years and I didn't even know.

“Paloma, may I ask you a question?”

I nodded, craving an intimate moment with my father. The kind of talk that I had always dreamt that fathers and daughters would have.

“Did you date the pilot you were a nanny for?”

Another lump grew in my throat. “Yes. I did.”

He exhaled and it almost sounded like a gasp. “Then why aren’t you with him now?”

And then, I broke. “I don't know. I love him. He is a kind, great man His wife died in childbirth. And he loves me too. He asked me to move with him to Pensacola, but I told him no. I don’t even understand why I told him no. I love him. I’m just so scared. The pilots' wives I met were nice to me, but I always felt like they truly didn't like me. And his mom pretty much told me I would ruin his life. I just felt that at some point, he would leave me, and I would never be good enough. He was good to me and my sisters. And I love his daughter like my own. I’m an awful person, just like my mother.”

“Don't ever say that. No, you aren't. You were scared. I get it. When you are a Blue Angel, you are treated like a God. It’s hard not to get caught up in all that. But to be a pilot, to truly achieve that level of success and be chosen an angel, you have to be honorable, you have to be the best. I’m sure he loves you, just like I loved your mom. Don’t let your fear of being accepted by the pilot community and his family ruin your life. I know I’m not one to be giving advice, but I have lived my life with this regret. I don’t want you to go through this also. Give him a chance. Let yourself love him.”

“I’ll try.”

I said goodbye and left. I knew exactly what I had to do. I had to call Beck and beg him to come back to me.