Chapter 22
On the way home, my mother chats incessantly.
There were so many nice single men there, but good thing I didn’t participate since the men were all much older than me.
She’s sorry about that, and switches to whether she should suggest the church do outreach for younger people, like she’s determined to talk so much I won’t be able to get in a word about the weird exchange between her and Eddie.
But followed by the display at the restaurant, I’m not having it. “What is going on with you and Eddie?”
I’ve now realized it’s better to face things head-on rather than be surprised by them later.
Some shocks are inevitable, like my father’s death.
But others are not. Chris leaving me before the wedding shocked me though it shouldn’t have.
I sensed him pulling away but ignored my instincts.
Next time I vow to be prepared, to be aware, to be armed to the teeth.
“What do you mean what’s going on with me and Eddie?” she asks, eyes focused straight ahead as she drives down University Avenue.
“You know what I mean! Don’t play dumb. You two were trying to one-up each other. And you sounded like you were almost…jealous,” I hiss.
“Me? Jealous of Eddie’s dates? Don’t be ridiculous.”
I take in a deep breath. It’s not ridiculous because other than the fact he’s my father’s brother, Eddie is a very eligible bachelor.
He takes good care of himself, has never developed a paunchy middle, and has perfect teeth.
I would not blame any woman his age who wanted to have a relationship with him except for my mother.
I’m allowed to blame her because that would be sacrilegious.
There’s probably something in the bible about it.
“Sofia’s mother said you dated Eddie first,” I say, and watch as my mother nearly runs a red light, slamming on the brakes. “Oh my God, be careful!”
My heart is in my throat. She knows better than to be a careless driver with me in the car.
“Carmelita has a big mouth.”
“But is it true?”
She doesn’t answer for far too long. “Yes.”
The answer is not what I wanted and the world falls out from under me. I’m spinning like the dial on a washing machine’s cycle. Maybe there’s some other explanation for this.
“Like, dated dated, or just friend dating?” I cover my ears. “No, wait. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know, it’s too gross. Ay Dios mio, I’m going to be sick.”
“Luci, no. Calm down, it’s not like that.”
“Why did you wind up with my father if you dated Eddie first? You said he thought he was too good for you!”
My mother sighs and pauses for interminable seconds. “Maybe that’s what you tell yourself when someone has hurt you.”
“What are you saying? Eddie dumped you, so you went for the next brother? Honestly, please tell me the truth, because I’m a writer and I’m making up all kinds of stuff in my head.
This is starting to sound like a telenovela, but the worst kind.
I’d much rather you be an amnesiac or kidnapped by the cartel. ”
And I’m only slightly exaggerating.
“I never wanted to talk to you about this. It’s ancient history.”
“Which seems to be making its way to the present.”
“Yes, well. Maybe I want a second chance.”
“You want a…you want a what?” My throat is closing up at the same moment it sounds like I’m screaming.
“This is my third act. The first one was your father, and you, the happiest times of my life. The second act was Seb and we all know how that went. In this third act, I want to go back to my roots.”
“Stop talking about your life like it’s a play!”
“Wait until you’re my age. The little things don’t matter anymore and you don’t care what anyone else thinks.”
“Did you ever?”
Maybe this is unfair but it comes out of me before I can stop myself.
“Of course. Men have ruled my life for far too long. I cared what they thought, what they said, what they wanted, and whether they liked me or not. My life was judged for merit by how well men noticed me. It’s how I got myself into this mess.”
“What mess?”
“I loved Eddie, and he was my first love. But I let him call the shots. He wasn’t ready to commit, he wasn’t ready for so many things. Then, there was Antonio, so loving and devoted to me.”
“You always made your love story sounds so amazing, but my father wasn’t even your first love, was he? He wasn’t the love of your life!”
“Now you need to be the one to stop thinking about life like a romance novel. Your father knew about me and Eddie. The truth is we both may have hurt Eddie without meaning to. I suppose he thought I’d sit around and wait for him forever.”
“Then the next thing you know you’re dating his brother.”
The thought of my father, possibly taking away the woman his brother loved…
it’s not fitting into my brain. My mind doesn’t have the bandwidth or the compartment size for this truth bomb.
This puzzle piece is too big to fit the shape.
I resist the idea that my father was anything less than a perfect man who was my mother’s first and only true love.
It’s the real reason I resented Seb, but I can’t possibly hate Eddie for taking my father’s place.
My mother, as usual, is wreaking havoc in my life.
Ruining everything. For the first time, I wish she hadn’t come back.
“I realize it’s difficult to think of these things but it shouldn’t concern you,” my mother says. “Your father is still your father, a wonderful man.”
“But it’s not the great love story you led me to believe all these years!”
She doesn’t seem to grasp the significance of this. I would think she realizes what a romantic I am, thanks in part to their love story. I’ve made a career out of this. And now she’s destroyed what’s left of my illusions.
“It was a great love story,” she insists. “Nothing can take away those years I had with him.”
“But if not for Eddie’s commitment issues, it would be him and not my father.”
“We will never know but it doesn’t matter. Because a person can have many loves in their life.”
“Pull over!” I shout. “I need out of this car. Now.”
“What? I can’t.” She glances wildly over her shoulder and all the traffic on University. “Look at all this traffic.”
“If you don’t pull over, I’ll throw up in your car. Is that what you want?”
“It’s a rental!” she screeches as she turns onto a side street and pulls over.
“What’s gotten into you? It’s just like when you were a little girl!
‘Mami, watch this. Mami watch that.’ All the time performing and craving attention.
Good thing you were an only child because you never could have shared the spotlight.
You needed too much, you had to have things a certain way, or you’d have a fit.
Your father always indulged you and that was a mistake.
You’re a grown-up, Luci. Newsflash: Things do not always work out the way you’d like.
You need to accept that people in your life make their own choices. ”
Tears prick my eyes, but I spill out of the car without another word.
“Luci! Wait. I’m sorry!” she says. “I didn’t mean all that.”
“Of course you did.”
Slamming the door, I make my way to the sidewalk.
I’ll walk home from here. Yes, I know, I’m too much.
That’s what she always said. It might be the reason I made myself smaller, the pieces of me easier for someone to digest. I loved writing but didn’t have the courage to put myself out there so I found a job ghostwriting.
Falling in love was important, and I fell for someone who thought of himself first in everything.
I’ve always been behind the scenes, whether in my work or my relationships and grew comfortable there. But there was a time in which I was the center of a man’s world. My father’s.
It’s so long ago I can barely remember.
I walk for thirty minutes, head down, for approximately a mile, texting with Sofia, who is trying to talk me off this metaphorical ledge.
No big deal, she says. These things happen, she says. Eddie is great, she says. It could be worse, she says.
Look, she’s far more accepting than she would be if her mother had originally dated Eddie, then married her second choice.
I’d like to see what she would say then.
Sofia doesn’t understand, but no one can.
I had this image in my mind of my parents, their forever love, cut down in its prime.
It was so romantic and tragic. Like so many things, my mother has destroyed that picture for me, too.
There’s only one person I want to talk to right now and I can’t.
My poor father. I want to know if he always felt second or if it’s true that my mother really loved him as she claims.
My hands are shaking and my stomach is burning.
As if all this disillusionment isn’t enough, the skies open up in a rare showing of water falling out of the sky in the month of June.
This thing we call rain is sprinkling and it’s no big deal.
No self-respecting Californian ever gets upset about the rain because we always need more.
But this Californian never drives in the rain.
As the sprinkle turns into a proper deluge, I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but I could do without the timing. The water is in my hair, my eyes, and I’m splashing in puddles I can’t avoid. Memories of another rainy night over two decades ago are splintering what’s left of my heart.
There’s too much sadness in the world and rather than dwell on it, I’ve chosen to look past it.
I’ve tried to bury myself in imaginary worlds where people are eternally happy.
In other words, for half my life I’ve been lying to myself.
One would think by now I should have figured this out and stopped trying so hard.
It won’t change anything. Ryan was right.
Maybe the perfect love story is one without any real answers. That’s the best one can expect.