9. August 21, 2024
Steel
Yesterday, he sat with Kubrick for hours, until she sent him back to the office to meet with the rest of the team for the mission to save her partner’s life.
Now, he watched from the parking lot as his wife dashed from the front door of the memory care center to her car, wiping away tears. She’d always had a tender heart for his madre. She might be badass otherwise, but when it came to someone she loved, she could show a softer side.
Was he destined to destroy every female’s life he touched?
“You just gonna sit there?” Medusa asked him.
Well, probably not Medusa’s life.
“I need a minute.”
Everyone in the vehicle was silent, except for Scheherazade. She was doing her little doggy panting, a sign she knew someone was stressed. Every few seconds, she would look at him, then back at her handler, as if asking, “Are you okay? Is he okay? Work now?”
He closed his eyes, centering his thoughts on what he expected to see.
Perfectly dressed. Hair pulled back into a smooth, tight bun.
Sitting in her straight-backed chair, eyes staring at her stories on the television.
Maybe her rosary in her hands, her lips moving in prayer, the only words she seemed to remember.
He opened his eyes and reached for the door handle. “I’ll be back in ten.”
Demon grabbed his shoulder as he moved to leave the vehicle. “Take your time, mate.”
Take his time. How long did one stay with a woman who didn’t remember him? Hadn’t remembered him for almost a decade? A woman he would likely never see again.
After jogging to a delivery entrance, he knocked on the door, and it opened, revealing a six-foot-four, two-hundred-twenty-pound man with military-cropped hair and enough muscles he could probably deadlift a moose. “Gracias,” Steel whispered.
“De nada.”
“How is she?”
“Same. We’re starting to see some anger from her, but that’s likely due to the change in environment. There have been no outbursts yet today. Daleyza was just here, so that probably helped.”
“Yes, I saw her leave.”
The orderly looked out into the hallway to make sure it was clear. Seeing no one, he led Steel to his mother’s room.
“I’ll just be a few minutes.”
“No problem. I can distract the nurse on this wing for at least fifteen minutes if she tries to come down here,” the man said with a grin.
“Only fifteen? Better work on that game,” Steel quipped.
The man chuckled. “Yeah. I’ll get right on that.”
He left Steel at the door and walked down a half dozen doors to a cart near the nurses’ station that held medications, using it as a form of cover to watch the halls.
As he stepped into the room, he noticed that Daleyza had done an exceptional job of making the space look less institutional and more like home.
His mother’s crucifix hung above the bed.
Flowers sat in a vase on the dresser, along with a tray of bottles that held his mother’s favorite scent and lotion.
Her bed was covered in a homemade blanket she’d crocheted.
She sat in her chair, exactly as he expected, her eyes fixed on her stories and her hands working the rosary in her lap.
Quietly, he shut the door and crossed to kneel in front of her, grasping her hands in her lap. He spoke to her softly in Spanish. “Madre,” he murmured. “It’s me. Ildefanso.”
She didn’t respond. Didn’t even seem to realize anyone was in the room with her.
Suddenly, her blank stare at her son seemed to clear for just a moment. “Mijo?” Then it clouded over again. “My son is dead.” Tears flooded her eyes, and she grasped the rosary in her hands even tighter.
If someone had told him his heart could break more than it already had, he wouldn’t have believed it.
Not being remembered by one’s parent was soul-crushing.
The bond they shared over the years had been strong due to the pain they shared.
In all those years, it never occurred to him that the bond could be erased by this devastating disease.
“I’ve come to say goodbye. I won’t be able to return again, but you will be well cared for. I promise.”
She didn’t acknowledge his words, simply continued to pray.
Ildefanso’s head bowed, his forehead resting gently on his mother’s knee. As she started a new prayer, he joined in with her, his fingers touching the beads.
She stopped praying. “Fanso sent you?”
A sharp, stabbing pain lanced through him. “Yes, Ildefanso sent me to check on you. He’s so sorry he couldn’t be here himself, but he wanted me to tell you that he loves you very much.”
Livia smiled at him, and she allowed one hand to leave the rosary to cup his face. “You’re a good boy. Your mama must be proud.”
He smiled softly. “I hope she is.”
He stood, kissed her cheek, and walked to the door. “I love you, Madre.” And with that, he was gone.