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My sadness and anger melted away. It was not his fault; it never was, but I was so hurt for losing my family - again - that I needed a scapegoat to cope. I was so damn wrong.
...Because this was worth it.
"Papi, I'm sorry for the way I acted."
"Don't worry, I love your little tantrums. What did you remember?"
I nestled closer to him and rubbed my nose on his neck, inhaling the raw James aroma.
"My father threw me out because I wanted to live with you in America, and I knew you wouldn't wait for me to finish college. He got mad when I turned down my scholarship for you."
"Sit down and watch Chelsea for a second. I'll make you a cup of tea so we can talk about it, alright?"
When I finally nodded, he let me go and stepped into the kitchen, leaving me alone with the baby who was watching me, wide-eyed.
Yes, bebita, your mama is a crazy bitch.
I went to plant a kiss on her head, and she reached her hands for a hug so I sat down to take her to my chest. God, this kid was seriously perfect.
Maybe I would ask James to take Chelsea on vacation to Cuba, bring her to my parents’ house. There was no way anyone could turn their back to this kid. My mom would melt on sight, and my dad would swallow his words if they could see my daughter because despite his fears and doubts, I did something good.
James returned with two steaming cups, finding me on the floor cuddling with Chelsea.
"Let her play with the stuffed toys; she'll be fine."
He made sure that she was occupied with something else and gave me a hand to help myself up. Once we were settled on the couch, he hooked an arm around my shoulder.
"Rita, I did not take you away, and I certainly didn't make you give up on going to school."
Wait, what?
"You didn't?"
"No, love. I'm sorry you're not on good terms with your family anymore because I know it pains you. I wish I could make it better, but my hands are a little tied because I’ve never met them. I would never come between you and your father. Fuck, I’ve never even been to Cuba."
"Never?"
"No."
"Oh, we should go to Cayo Coco; they have the best beach in the fucking world."
"Umm, no, that would be Daytona."
I rolled my eyes so hard at his words, I almost gave myself a headache.
"Look, buddy, Daytona may have NASCAR, but you can't tell me the sand is as white or the water is as blue as in Cuba. It's paradise on earth."
For a quick second, his grip tightened.
"Do you miss it?"
I couldn’t stop myself from sighing, a bitter sense of melancholy washing over.
"I do, a little. I love it here; this is where you and Chelsea are, but I wish I could go back. Don't get me wrong, life in Cuba is not a walk in the park, but I would like to visit sometimes."
"Then we will go," he said with no hesitation. "We don't need your father's permission to take a vacation, love. I'd love to see that Cavo Cocoa."
"It's Cayo Coco, you pendejo."
