Velvet Deception

1. Sofia

1

SOFIA

A nother alarm blared from my phone. It ungraciously and annoyingly marked how late I was. I was running behind—as usual—on this morning, but my son beat me to silencing it.

“Come on, Mama. I’m going to be late for school,” Ramon called out from where he scarfed down the last of his cereal in the kitchen.

“Yes, yes.” I yanked the last clean scrubs top from the pile of unfolded but clean clothes. Laundry was a constant chore when I only had three sets of my uniform at the health clinic, but what was I supposed to do? Use up more money I had to be frugal with to buy more sets? Or carve out more time that I didn’t have to wash what I had more often? It didn’t seem like a win-win situation no matter which way I looked at it. Finances were tight, and I spent more hours at the clinic than at home.

“I’m coming.” I shoved my arms through the sleeves and yawned as I hurried toward him. Since he was born, he’d been my support system. It didn’t seem right to count on my six-year-old to coach me into punctuality, but it worked. I’d never been a morning person, and I had always struggled with getting up early.

Since he was born, he kept me on my toes. Whether it was with morning cries to feed him, early rising because he was an energetic toddler, or like now, a responsible little boy who knew better than to be late to school. Being a single mom was a one-person job, but he helped me. We were a little team.

“Juan goes on the bus,” he said, watching me as I forced down some stale toast, still tugging my scrubs top over my undershirt. “Why can’t I?”

I gave him a stern look. “You know why.”

He pouted, but with his furrowed brow lining deeper, I knew he was forming an argument for why he should ride the bus to school with our neighbor’s grandson. Before he could get started, I reminded him anyway. “You don’t ride the bus like Juan does because I can drive you to school. It only makes sense since I’m driving that way to get to the clinic for work.”

“But you wouldn’t have to rush like this. I could get on the bus and you could take time getting ready for work.” A wide, triumphant smile crossed over his face. He was always quick to plot and plan, seeking an answer to a riddle or challenge like it would be the biggest reward to achieve. His mind was never idle, and I prayed that he’d never lose that ambitious, problem-solving method of thinking.

“That may be,” I said as I lowered to tie my shoes, “but I need to get up and moving for the workday anyway.”

The bigger reason I didn’t want Ramon to ride the bus to school like Juan did was for safety. Since I gave birth to this sweet little boy, the light of my life, I swore I would never fail in keeping him healthy, happy, and safe . When he was at school, I could trust the teachers and staff to handle that responsibility. When I was at work late, I could count on Se?ora Vasquez next door, Juan’s abuela, to watch over him until I got home. All other times, I wanted to personally guard over him. Yes, it was a hovering mentality, never letting my son out of my sight or not within my reach, but with the past I had to contend with, with the trauma and fears I’d faced years ago, this obsession about his safety was for my sanity too.

Ramon was all that mattered to me, and I wouldn’t let myself be na?ve and lower my guard to ever let him be unprotected, unaccounted for, or alone and vulnerable to where I could lose him.

I couldn’t let him ride on a bus because I had no way to know the driver was trustworthy enough. No way to be able to see how he was safe away from me, in transit to school.

“Besides, I would never give up a minute to spend with you.” Leaning close after I stood, I ruffled his thick brown hair and kissed his brow. “Especially this time of the year!”

He grinned, following me to the door. “You promise you’ll be home for the fireworks?”

We both loved Christmastime. The Christmas spirit was alive and well in Columbia. Even if it wasn’t ingrained in our culture, we would commit to the overall feeling of family and love.

“I should be,” I replied after closing the door to our home. The abandoned multiplex wasn’t anything grand, but it was mostly safe here. Our unit was the only one rented at the moment. Knowing the other three units in the building were stuffed to the brim with storage added to my sense of security. Not worrying about someone untrustworthy living on the other side of the wall went a long way toward keeping me calm. Se?ora Vasquez in the next building helped too. That old lady didn’t miss anything around here in the neighborhood.

“Should be?” Ramon frowned as we got into my car.

I nodded, starting the car despite the engine’s reluctance to turn over. “Yes, I should be home.” He knew better than to ask me to promise. “I never know how long work can go over?—”

“But, Mama. It’s Alboradas!” His shoulders slumped as I drove.

“I know.” December first was typically our big kickoff to the season. Medellin was famous for its fireworks, and we’d hear firecrackers and music all night long. Just because it was a holiday didn’t mean I could excuse myself out of work. “And maybe that means the clinic will be slow, you know? Everyone will be getting ready for tonight.”

He sighed, unconvinced, and it tugged at my heartstrings that I couldn’t do better for him, that I couldn’t provide more. That I couldn’t promise that I’d be home to watch the lights explode in the night sky, the excitement that heralded the month we both loved so much, culminating with the holiday we cherished the most.

What else can I do?

I was a single mother. Scraping by for the income I could was a nonstop effort, and I refused to give up. I knew he didn’t mean to wound me or judge me for having to work so much, but it didn’t make his words hurt any less.

I’m trying my best, baby. Always know I’m trying my very best.

He didn’t speak up for the rest of the ride, and I felt a little better when he leaned in to kiss my cheek goodbye at the school drop-off line.

“Love you, baby. Have a good day and be sure to wait for Se?ora Vasquez to pick you up.”

He nodded. “Love you, Mama.”

After I watched him walk inside, I sighed and prayed he would have a good day with his classmates.

A horn beeped behind me, jolting me out of my reverie. Someone else was eager to drop off their child, and here I was sitting too long and being overly wistful. “All right. All right. I’m going. I’m going.” That was the goal, at least. My car sputtered and resisted the momentum of being driven again, and I stalled.

“Dammit.” I gritted my teeth and tried to coax the car to start again. I’d be late for work now, and?—

“Hurry it up!”

I growled, ignoring the holler behind me, and focused on getting my car to go. I didn’t have time to fix it, much less replace it, but maybe if I got a decent Christmas bonus, I could have some faulty parts replaced.

Leaving my woes to dwell on later, I sped toward the clinic. The streets were congested, like they always were, and the idle time of sitting at lights gave me too much of an opportunity to fall right back into this crummy mood I didn’t want on a day that should only end in festivity and excitement.

I detested feeling so stuck in life, to be this trapped in our circumstances and struggling to survive and get by. If I could move us and know we’d have a chance to thrive, I would’ve done so a long time ago. If I could work somewhere else and make more than what I did at the small clinic I pulled up to twenty minutes later, I would.

Just… not there. I got out of my car and eyed the tall structures of the bigger hospital in the area. It loomed like skyscrapers further into the heart of the city, but I wouldn’t ever try to return to my former job there.

Inside, I clocked in and checked in with Pamela, another nurse who worked at this low-income clinic. This understaffed clinic. Most of the crew here harbored the same love-and-hate attitude about our jobs at this facility, but we always tried to team up and stay positive.

At least we had jobs. I was grateful for mine. And they were jobs mostly free from outside influence.

Like the Cartel.

I resisted a scowl at the thought of the organization that ruled in these parts. Determined to be positive, I smiled as I pulled my long brown hair into a ponytail. “Good morning, Pamela.”

“It is a good morning,” she gushed, smiling prettily. She sighed, a pure sound of contentment as she smoothed back her hair slicked into a tight braided bun. “I can’t ever have a bad morning waking up next to Enrique.”

A slow, silent groan filled my head. Here we go again.

“Marriage is simply,” she said, huffing a blissful laugh, “perfect!”

I was glad she’d found a decent man to love and marry. I wished them well. But for the love of God, I was so, so tired of her talking about it. If she was making a habit of referencing her new husband out of spite, just to rub it in my face that I was single, that would be uncalled for. Pamela wasn’t mean, though. Instead, it seemed that telling Enrique I do transformed her whole identity. She was no longer Pamela, my nurse coworker at this clinic. She was only Enrique’s wife, a newlywed with limited capacity to realize life still carried on the same old for everyone else.

“Aww.” I patted her back. “I’m glad.”

“And so busy, too.” She gave me a coy, naughty smile. “I’m shocked I’m even awake and standing here now, with how little sleep he lets me get.”

Precious. This time, my smile and co-conspiring giggle probably fell short. “Oh, my,” I replied neutrally, hoping she’d quit this small talk and get on to the patients I’d be assigned.

“We’re trying to have a baby.” She lowered her head, so demure, and rested her hand on her flat stomach. “Perhaps it will be our Christmas miracle, to start our little family.”

Family was everything. I had Ramon. Even though she was focusing on the concept of a family in a way I couldn’t—or wouldn’t—didn’t matter. We all deserved family. We all should have the blessing of loved ones in our lives, regardless of it being Christmastime or not. The ability and courage to survive and struggle through the hardships of our lives was one thing, but to strike out for love and treasure it was something even more special.

I smiled and nodded. “That is wonderful news, Pamela. Wonderful.”

But deep down, I tried to ignore the little morsel of pain and heartache that I would never be able to say the same thing, that my husband and I wanted to grow a family.

Because I was forever scarred and far too scared to ever trust a man in my life again.