5. Maritza
FIVE
MARITZA
ONE YEAR LATER
“You rest, I’ve got the office today. Mariella is here.” I try to reassure her.
My mother simply nods as she fights to keep her eyes open. I know it kills her to face this new reality. Treatment days are exhausting. The day after is even worse. Yesterday, she spent her day getting pumped full of the medication currently keeping the cancer at bay. It literally zaps every ounce of energy from her body. The more the medication fills her veins and works through her system, the more energy seems to vanish. The littlest of tasks is monumental, and I hate watching her struggle. I wish I could take her pain away. If I could trade places with her I would. Life doesn’t work that way, however. For now, I’ll do what I can which is go to work in her place.
Mariella has always had a room at my condo. Last year, she was home on weekends from school and would crash between my place and our parents. As mom’s health has become more challenging, she switched to online college, as did I. At first, she lived at home. Knowing the changes we have made since her diagnosis; it was making mom feel guilty having her live there. Our mom struggles the most with the guilt that she is somehow holding any of us back. She isn’t. Family comes before everything. To ease the burden our mother felt about Mariella moving back home from school we decided this was a great compromise. Now, we live together in my condo, and balance working, school, alongside helping our father care for our mother. The days are long, but worth it to do anything we can for our mother.
Our little brother, RJ, Ruben Jr is stationed up north with the Navy. I know he would be here and help if he could. Serving our country has been his lifelong dream and my mother was adamant her diagnosis not stop any of us from following our dreams. RJ has wanted nothing more than to be in the Navy since he was a little boy. There was a time we didn’t think he would enlist. With mom’s diagnosis, he wants to be here with us too. It took some convincing on all of our parts, but he did follow his plans. We are all proud of him, but our mother exceptionally so.
To some, it’s a sacrifice, the changes Mariella and I have made. To us, there isn’t a single moment of any of this we won’t be by her side for. She isn’t giving up and neither are we.
It’s hard as a caregiver to watch a loved one change as a disease takes over. My mother looks small in her bed. The therapy has caused her hair loss, weight loss, and overall fatigue. I can only imagine what runs through her head as she fights to keep her life. She remains positive even as she lost her hair, then her curves, and some days the entire day to being asleep. I know it frustrates her, especially when she can’t seem to keep herself awake.
The hardest part for me and my sister was watching her struggle. Losing her hair will forever stand out to both of us. I remember as a kid watching her braid her long, dark hair before bed every night. She would then braid mine and my sister’s. Here she is with her naked head against the satin pillowcase, and I can’t help but miss seeing her braid. Her eyes hidden by her closed eyelids as her breathing evens out she has at least found a moment of peace in her slumber. Knowing she is asleep and not wishing to disturb her, I blow her a quiet kiss and head out.
Getting in to work, I turn the open sign on and smile as I sit behind my desk gazing at the most recent picture of Hollis from his new preschool. Another milestone and this one is proving to challenge me. I miss having him here with me. That said, there are still days Anna drops him off since he is only part-time for school. I’m happy to have any time with him I can. Hollis Jacoby is my little work partner. He makes me laugh and smile. There is nothing better than getting to experience life through the eyes of a child. He is a rambunctious four-year-old that absorbs life and knowledge like a sponge. Two days a week, they have full days, and I typically don’t get to see him on those Tuesdays and Thursdays. The t-days as we call them are the hard ones. They always seem to drag on without him here. On the other weekdays, he is at school until noon. Those days, Anna drops him off after school or she will call me to go pick him up.
I don’t mind. In fact, when I pick him up, it’s our thing to swing into the smoothie shop for a treat.
He's a good eater. He picks his strawberry banana smoothie over a milkshake most days. No matter what I make for dinner, he’s always game to try something new too. Yeah, that happens at least once sometimes twice a week, the smoothie treats. It’s this little slice of happiness for me too. The joy and excitement to watch things through Hollis’s eyes. Kids are amazing like that. He has my heart and there isn’t anything I won’t do for that boy.
We have this little system, me and Hollis’s parents. The garage is busy which means Dillon has some nights where he is working late. On those days, I take Hollis home with me, we have dinner, and when Dillon picks him up, I send food home for him and Anna to eat. Anna has the option to pick him up, obviously, he is her son. She usually doesn’t though.
Recently, I noticed Dillon doesn’t take the food home. It used to be a thing, and Anna would text me after they ate to tell me she liked it or just to say thank you. I still offer, but when Dillon declines, I don’t push. I haven’t asked questions, but the little things I’ve gathered from Anna, their home life is under some pressure. I don’t pry, it isn’t my place. Allowing Anna the space to share is all I do. Even as she vents her frustrations, I don’t engage in negative talk about Dillon or even about her. She can be negative in her own self-thoughts and self-talks, I’m not here to add to it. That doesn’t help anything or anyone. We women are cruel enough to ourselves in our mere thoughts, much less when we open our mouths. She is going through something inside herself, that much I do know.
Dillon Jacoby is a man of few words. I have learned he doesn’t like to let anything get deep. I don’t know much about his childhood because he doesn’t share. I have met his cousins he grew up with because the Jacoby brothers come visit and occasionally do work for the Hellions. I am only privy to that bit of information since I do the accounting for the club and have to cut the checks for on the book’s jobs. Outside of Hollis, and the handful of occasions being around his cousins is really the only time it seems Dillon lets his guard down. I don’t know much about his family beyond these few people.
We all love and accept him as a Hellion, but for whatever reason, his personal life with Anna stays away from the club. I’m not sure if it’s her choice or his. It’s strange to me. Once a brother patches in, his family is our family. I know Anna is misunderstood a lot, though, and maybe she doesn’t feel like she fits in. Granted, she hasn’t been around enough to really give it a shot.
Dillon gets frustrated that Anna leaves Hollis here and enrolled him in preschool. I’m not sure of their real home dynamic. I think or sort of assume that maybe he wants her to be a stay-at-home mom. Or maybe she thinks that is what he wants from her. I’m not sure because he has never said he expects her to be a stay-at-home mom or a working mom. I know she has said in the beginning that is what she wanted to have a baby with Dillon and be a homemaker. Now, though, I think she isn’t so sure about what she wants. As a woman, I understand the need to feel like more than a mom. I think to some degree she doesn’t know what she wants from herself much less her marriage. While I don’t have children of my own, I get the impression from Anna that she’s lost. Like Dillon, she doesn’t share much, but there is a sadness in her eyes that I long to fix. I know they love each other or at least once did. What goes on behind closed doors is obviously their business, but I do wish they could find a way to be happy with each other or without. Right now, though, they are both pretty miserable.
When I was younger, my parents separated for a time. I remember hearing them talk, even though I was supposed to be asleep. My dad was telling my mom they were two ships passing in the sea. Things were routine without connection. At the time, I didn’t understand. Being older now, truly taking in the way my dad engages my mom, I see the difference. Before it was a challenge each day, they had things going on, a house to keep up, and us kids to wrangle. There were a lot of distractions that easily take away from the spark, love, and passion that once thrived. I imagine marriage is hard. Marriage with kids is probably harder. My parents overcame that hard season and maybe Dillon and Anna will too.
Marriage is serious. I’m not sure if I’m cut out for it. Granted, I haven’t found anyone I can really be myself with. I’m learning that the older I get. As a teen, attraction, lust fueled what started a relationship. Now, I want someone who will engage my mind, my spirit, and cherish me soul deep. Only when I can find this level of connection will I be able to consider a commitment such as marriage or a partnership.
Two become one and I’m not sure many make those vows understanding the true level of commitment and sacrifice that means.
Two become one. Three words with a powerful impact.
In order for that to be, one must release of their own desires and think of someone else first. We are human, we are flawed, and most of us are selfish. It’s not a bad thing, it just is. Too many times, human nature is to get caught up in the happy emotions, the euphoria of love, and we are blind to the real compromises needed to build a solid, lasting foundation.
I’m taken away from my thoughts as a man walks in. He’s clean shaven, wearing a pair of navy-blue dress pants with a sky-blue button up shirt, finished with a navy tie. I assume he’s on his way to work.
“Hi, how can I help you today?” I greet him.
“Does Dillon Jacoby work here?” He asks and I can’t help my curiosity.
I study the man in the suit. There is something about him. He makes me think of a snake waiting to strike. “I’m sorry, I can’t confirm or deny any of our employees. What does this pertain to, and I can potentially get a message to Mr. Jacoby.”
He reaches to his back pocket, pulling out a wallet, and removing a business card. Extending his hand to me, I take the paper. “I am here on a legal matter concerning his spouse, Anna Jacoby.”
Hesitating, I don’t know if I should get Dillon or send the man packing. If I was married and an attorney (according to his business card) is standing at my place of employment, I would want someone to call me.
“I can call over to the shop and see if he’s around, hold please.”
Moving to my desk, I pick up the phone and call over to Pami who is running the garage side of things most days. She answers on the second ring.
“Hey Pami, it’s Maritza. Is Dillon hanging around today?” I try to remain vague. I know the man reads through it and any pay stub or checking into Dillon’s tax filings show he is indeed our employee, there is something about confirming it that bothers me. My instinct to protect I guess it what motivates me to not be direct with this man.
To me, it isn’t anyone’s business where anyone works. Even a damn bank to get a loan. As long as I have income and can prove I make money. Why does how I make a living matter as long as I pay the bill? My dad always laughs when I get on this soap box and tells me I was meant to be a gangster’s accountant. Whatever! I don’t do illegal shit, but I don’t judge either.
The man gazes around the office, casually looking around. “Sure is, I’ll send him over,” she tells me before muffling the phone to call out for Dillon to pop over here. “He’s on the way,” she tells me before I end the call.
“He’ll be right here. Can I get you something to drink?” I offer as we normally do for mini storage customers.
“No, thank you, though.”
It doesn’t take long, and Dillon is walking through the front of the office to join us. His eyes are laser locked to the businessman as he stands there in a pair of long Dickie’s style shorts and button up garage uniform shirt that all the guy’s wear.
“Hi, Mr. Jacoby, I’m Asher Owens and I represent Anna Jacoby.”
I watch Dillon’s face change to steel right in front of me. “Why are you are my place of employment?”
Well, I guess he doesn’t care who knows he works here. At least it’s his call to make.
“First, I would like to explain. I know it’s a bit unorthodox for me to personally seek out a spouse of a client, however, I would like to discuss with you the concerns my client has and see if you would like to retain legal services or if this is something we can forgo mediation and court.”
“Do you have a business card?” Dillon asks him not easing up the frustration that is clearly shown in his face.
The man reaches in his pocket again to retrieve his wallet and hands him a card. Dillon studies it.
“According to this, you specialize in criminal law, not family law.”
The man nods. “I do. Your wife is a client of mine from a previous case. What she is requesting is a bit unusual. She has expressed you wish to file for dissolution of your marriage. Is this the case?”
Dillon merely nods without speaking so the man continues on.
“While I’m licensed to practice all areas of law in North Carolina, I haven’t had first-hand experience in what she is seeking. It’s a unique opportunity that benefits all parties. I was hoping to have a conversation with you to see if you are open to her proposal at all. If you are in agreement, drafting the paperwork is pretty cut and dry. If you are not receptive to the concept, I need to make her aware of her options, obviously.”
Dillon looks up to the ceiling as if somehow those little popcorn puffs of paint texture would hold a magical answer. He isn’t the most patient of men, although, I don’t know a single Hellion who is. This though, this seems to be trying his last nerve.
“How about you quit talking in circles and just lay it out? What in the world could Anna be asking of me?”
“She would like to arrange a contract between the two of you,” the man casually states, and I’m left dumbfounded. “Rather than divorcing, she would like to enter into an agreement for a domestic partnership of sorts.”
What in the hell is a contract needed? They are married. They either stay married or get divorced. Dillon looks to me like he’s just realizing I’m in the room.
“Would you like to go back to the office area to discuss these matters privately?” I offer feeling uncomfortable.
His face gentles at my voice. The frustration that was moments ago ever present begins to dissipate right in front of me.
“No. Considering you have my son more than she has my son, you might as well be privy to whatever her latest antics are.”
“My client understands you wish to proceed with a dissolution of your marriage. What we are proposing gives you freedoms while protecting your marital assets.”
Dillon nods but doesn’t engage the conversation. I didn’t know he was asking for a divorce. Neither of them have said anything to me about it. I feel strange being here, like this is a private matter. Sure, it impacts Hollis which does affect me, but this is something they have to do between them.
“Mrs. Jacoby would like to propose a contract to continue the marriage but allow you the freedoms from commitments and responsibilities as a husband, but rather the two of you agree to a domestic partnership.”
What in the alien outer space have I entered into? How does someone who is married decide to change the terms of said marriage? I don’t think this is how it works. Even if they decide this is the way they would like to navigate the future, why have a stranger tell Dillon? They are on speaking terms, why not ask him herself?
“I know what she’s trying to do here, Mr. Owens. Your time is wasted because I’m not entering into any contract with her.”
Without saying anything else or allowing the attorney a chance to reply, he turns and walks out of the office like he was never here to begin with.
Well, this is one way to start the damn workday.