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SOFIA
I’m keeping careful watch over the moro after Marlene taught me how quickly the rice and beans can become mushy. After I turn down the heat on the gas stove, I stir the huge pot to keep the rice from sticking to the bottom of the pan. Marlene said it’s a delicate balancing act. I had to look up the meaning of that expression and learned it means to carefully manage two or more things. Today, I’m managing the rice and beans and the attention of a man who makes my heart race when he looks at me the way he does.
Nico Giordino.
His sisters and cousin have warned me away from him.
Maria says he’s toxic with women. I had to look up the meaning of the word toxic, too. I found out that means his behavior would add negativity and upset to my life, which is the last thing I need after what I’ve gone through with Mateo’s father.
Speak of the devil… That’s another phrase I learned from Livia. Anytime I hear something I don’t understand, I ask for the meaning and then add it to the notebook I keep full of English words and sayings I want to remember. Since my son’s medical emergency brought me to Dr. Jason Northrup and the Giordino family, I’m determined to learn as much English as I can. While I was blessed with wonderful translators who helped me navigate the medical maze, I decided I need a much better understanding of spoken English.
After spending most of my childhood in Mexico, I returned to Miami when I was in high school and worked hard to catch up to my classmates. I’m pretty good with reading and writing. It’s the speaking and comprehension part I’m working on now. I like that word—comprehension.
Marlene, who committed to learning English after her first trip “home” to Cuba since the revolution made her realize that Miami is now her home, has been my partner in improving my English. While we’ll always be proud native Spanish speakers, we’re pleased with what we’ve learned at our ESL classes. The instructor says I’m a natural, and I’m on my way to being fluent. I had to look up that word, and the meaning made me proud of what I’ve accomplished. We start back to class in March, and in the meantime, I’ve been reading books in English to help with my comprehension. I try to learn at least ten new words a day that I keep in a notebook that I study every night before bed.
Back to the devil… He’s due any minute to deliver our son to me for Nochebuena and Christmas.
Joaquín Diaz was my high school boyfriend, who, somewhere along the way, fell into the wrong crowd, got himself into trouble with drugs and petty crime and made my life a living hell for years with intense emotional abuse that later became physical. I’ve finally broken free of him, thanks in no small part to Marlene and Livia, who heard about our plight when Mateo was sick, offered me a job with benefits and quite simply saved my life—and my son’s. Thanks to them and a friend who’s a lawyer, I’ve filed for divorce and received a protective order that requires Joaquín to stay five hundred feet from me. The only exception to the order is when we hand off our son between visits.
Sometimes I still can’t believe it’s come to a need for official protection from the man I once loved.
“Sofia,” Nico’s cousin Domenic says. “Someone’s asking for you outside.”
I experience a moment of pure joy at the thought of seeing my little boy, quickly followed by the dread of having to see his father. After washing my hands, I ask Dee to keep an eye on the moro for me and go out through the garage to greet my son.
Mateo, who is five, is doing a lot better than he was, but he’s still got a long way to go in his recovery from brain surgery to remove a cancerous tumor. Thankfully, Jason got it all, and he recommended a course of radiation that’s now completed. But the damage to his fine motor skills, another English term that has become familiar to me, was significant, thus the ongoing physical and occupational therapy. He also has a slight sag on the right side of his face that Jason says may or may not correct itself. We’re waiting to see on that.
Nico pulls up in his truck as I emerge from the garage into bright South Florida sunshine. Marlene sent him to pick up the keg from a nearby liquor store. He approaches Joaquín’s old red sedan, which is parked in the driveway. “I’ll take him,” Nico says.
I stand back and allow Nico to intervene on my behalf, not willing to admit what a relief it is to have him deal with Joaquín so I don’t have to.
“I need to speak to my wife,” Joaquín says in Spanish as he tightens his hold on Mateo.
“She’s not your wife any longer,” Nico reminds him, also in Spanish, as he reaches for my son.
“Back off, dude.”
I step forward before they get physical. I wouldn’t put it past either of them. “It’s okay, Nico. I’ve got this.”
Glaring at Joaquín, Nico takes a step back but stays nearby. Just in case.
I take Mateo from Joaquín and hold him close. He smells like cigarette smoke, which enrages me. How can Joaquín smoke around him—or allow anyone else to—after what he’s been through? “What do you need?”
“I want you to come home for Christmas,” he says in Spanish. “Where you belong.”
“I’m sorry, that’s not possible,” I reply in English.
His scowl turns a face I once found handsome ugly. “You’re so fancy now, you can’t even speak your own language?”
“I’ll see you on the thirtieth.” I turn away from him to carry Mateo inside. He’s looking forward to swimming in Marlene’s pool before the party begins later this afternoon.
“Don’t take another step,” Nico says to Joaquín.
I keep walking as if I didn’t hear that. I trust Nico to make sure Joaquín doesn’t follow us inside. But the minute I’m safely in the house, I rush to the front window to look out to make sure the situation isn’t escalating. Mateo snuggles into my embrace, seeming relieved, as he always is, to be back with me.
The two men are exchanging words, but that’s all it is.
After Joaquín makes an obscene gesture at him, Nico walks away, his fists rolled tightly by his sides. My heart races at the sight of him, angry on my behalf. Why does that mean so much to me? Maybe it’s because for years no one was ever angry on my behalf while Joaquín was bullying me into doing everything his way.
