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“I grew up thinking my dad didn’t want me.”
“He didn’t,” she says quickly.
“He thought he was protecting us.”
“Oh, are you defending him?” she asks, standing up. “I did everything I could to make sure you didn’t lack for anything,” she cries. “I didn’t need his help. I was sleep deprived and stressed, doing everything on my own. I loved you twice as much because he wasn’t here. I didn’t want you to ever feel like you weren’t cherished. You were my whole world, Mari. I was here through every heartbreak and scratch. It was me. Not him. I protected you!”
She breaks down and I get up from the table and wrap my arms around her. “I know, Mom. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
We stand in the middle of the kitchen with peeling wallpaper and old linoleum floors, and we cry in each other’s arms.
* * *
Later, after our emotions have died down some, we sit together on the couch with a cup of tea in our mugs.
“So,” Mom says, “How’s he doing now?”
“He’s the boss.”
She snaps her head in my direction, fear in her eyes before she bites down on her lip and nods her head. “Well, good for him, I guess.”
“He doesn’t seem happy,” I say, hoping it makes her feel better.
She cracks a grin. “Good.”
“He had nothing but high praises for you.”
She nods, eyes watering again. “You gonna keep in touch with him?”
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly.
“This guy, this Vicente?”
I nod. “What about him?”
“You think it’s a smart idea to get involved with him?”
With a shake of my head, I say, “Probably not.”
“But you like him.”
My smile grows larger than seems possible. “I really do.”
Mom puts her hand on my knee. “You’re going to make your own decisions but I want you to think about yourself first. Make sure you’re safe and happy. I’ll always worry about you, baby, but I have to trust you know what to do.”
I nod. “Vicente and Donati aren’t really friends,” I say. “In fact, it would be safe to call them enemies. And I’m not thrilled with either of them right now.”
After a while, Mom says, “Maybe you’ll be the one to bring them together. Not necessarily to become best friends, but maybe it’ll close the gap a little.”
“I’m not sure.”
“Let’s not talk about men anymore,” Mom says, standing up. “Want to go somewhere?”
I laugh. “Sure. Where?”
“I don’t know. The mall? Zoo? Pizza place?”
“How about all three?”
