1. Maritza
ONE
MARITZA
“You know you don’t have to work here, hija. I can talk to your dad.” She sighs, “I know he worries and wants you here, but you need to have a life for yourself.”
I smile softly at my mother, “no place I’d rather be.”
It’s hard this dynamic of growing up. Watching my parents who have always taken care of everything actually needing help. Of course my mother will never ask or admit she could use a hand. It’s not in her spirit. My father knows this and asked me to step in and show up. She will never turn me away, but she also won’t admit she could use me even to simply hang around. She is the strongest woman I’ve ever known. What she’s going through now and how to process it?
I don’t know what to feel.
I’ve never felt so helpless. I can’t take this away. I can’t do anything. There is absolutely no bargaining any of us can do to fix this. We have zero control.
I love family. I live for my family. Working here is not a burden, I enjoy it. Growing up, there were times I rode the bus here afterschool to work with my mom rather than go home. My dad never complains about any of us being on the compound or at any Hellions business or function. Rather, he likes having us close. Especially me and my sister, Mariella. The term smother mother is cute, but for us, it’s our father who struggles to let us be independent. Especially when it comes to his girls. My brother, he allows more freedoms because bro-code I suppose. I don’t really get the dynamic on why he worries more about my sister and me, but it seems it’s that way with everyone around us.
While at times it’s frustrating, like first dates, overall, I know it’s because he cares. This isn’t about him keeping tabs on me, but to keep me safe he feels like he needs to know every move I make. He wouldn’t do anything that would hold me back from pursuing my dreams. Me working here isn’t about control (even though he definitely likes to be the one in charge). One thousand percent he is asking this because my mother can use the extra hand. Convincing her, that’s a whole other thing.
“I’m off for the summer from school and I want to learn it all. You know this. Think of it as an internship of sorts. I want to study business, what better way than working in a family business.”
My mother smiles sweetly, “I know your motives, Maritza. You worry too much! I told you I’m fine.”
Fine.
It’s a word that used to not bother me. Now it grates on my nerves because I know she will keep saying she’s okay when she might not be. Fine is like her new crutch word. That is all she keeps saying over and over again since the diagnosis. She’s fine. She’s always fine. There isn’t a moment in my life that she hasn’t always been okay. But it’s okay to not be okay … only I can’t tell her that. She is my mother, and she will still ground me or at least try to.
She is the woman who always fixes every problem, kissed every scratch when we were tiny, and stands up for what she believes in at every turn. Our matriarch.
And now she has cancer. The super woman she is, she plans to keep working through her treatments, like it’s no big deal. Since, I’m on summer break before my college courses, I decided not to give her a choice. I will be here by her side every day.
She works in the Hellions mini storage office. Monday through Friday this is her so called nine to five. When I was younger, she was a stay at mom until this time period where things were a little bit different. I don’t remember much, only that my dad and mom separated for a bit. Doll was leaving the area to follow her heart, meaning going off with her man, Tripp to Catawba.
Back then, Tripp was the Hellions Catawba president. Doll being Roundman’s daughter it was a serious adjustment to have her leave with a brother. Everyone talks about Roundman and the bullet he put aside with Tripp’s name on it. Old Roundman stories are the best. He’s been dead years now and still his legacy lives on. When the time came, Tripp took over Haywood’s Landing and Doll is back home. By then though, mom was running things here and Doll wanting to raise her kids didn’t mind leaving my mom in her position at the office. Doll works here some and, in the garage, now that her kids are older, but mostly, Doll takes care of all the families. Whatever a brother needs for home life, Doll takes it on.
Doll offered to pay my mom to stay home during her treatments, but mom said no. She wants to work and doesn’t want this taken away from her. While we all wish she would rest, I understand my mother’s need to stay busy. She wants everything to feel normal. I don’t know how to give her normal when she’s facing this disease.
For now, I feel the need to be with her and help even if she doesn’t actually need it. Time is a thief, and I don’t want it to steal any moment I have with her no matter the outcome of her diagnosis.
I didn’t lie. I am off for the summer. My dad even suggested I work here to get business experience. I think he feels better knowing what is to come that she is not alone. The treatments have side effects. The doctors have been clear with us. She has stage four cervical cancer. Her survival rate is not good statistically.
Fuck the statistics is our family attitude. None of us are giving in to this disease.
I have spent too much time down the rabbit hole of internet searches. The treatment is a tough one to endure. My father agrees we need to stay ahead of it. Since mom doesn’t want to give up working, we will make sure she can do it as long as possible while being comfortable doing it. I’ll learn everything before she gets through the second or third round, I hope. The goal is to have it where I can run things here alongside her. In the event she needs to take an absence or two, I can hold it down for her.
At least for the summer. When fall comes, we will reevaluate the needs of my mother, the business, and how that fits with my education. Neither of my parents want to hinder me from following my dreams. If I am honest, though, my future is not the same without my mother. Anything they think I want ahead is all a blur as my focus is solely on seeing her through this treatment and to the other side.
Luckily, I decided not to go away for college. My plan is to study accounting at the University of North Carolina, Wilmington. The daily drive will suck sometimes, but being home to help my mother is worth it. Once classes begin, I’ll figure out how to juggle school and being here. I’m hopeful I can do most of them online and adjust things to manage the office while keeping up with school.
Originally, I wanted to study psychology but after watching some friends struggle with their mental health, I learned quickly I don’t have the mental capacity to compartmentalize. I feel what they feel, I take on other people’s problems and emotions as my own. Try as I might to stop it, I can’t, and it is exhausting. I can’t seem to keep my own heart and emotions separate. Therefore, I quickly realized I am not equipped for that line of work.
I took a test once from a magazine article. I’m an empath. I feel what everyone around me feels just as equally. Knowing I would emotionally take on everyone’s problems, I decided I should follow a different career path. At first, the idea of sorting a career felt daunting when I had this intrigue into emotions, mental health, and the motives that control people. It hit me randomly one day, I am actually pretty good at math.
Numbers are simple.
The sheet needs to balance. Find ways to make it balance. Accounting calls to me because it is all controllable. The more I looked into the career path, it all called to me.
Life can feel out of control sometimes, but the money is what it is. The dollars are either there or they aren’t. Positives and negatives, cut and dry.
Cancer is not cut and dry. The future isn’t clear and it’s definitely not within our control.
My whole family has decided to focus on the things we can control. Like me coming to work here with my mom and learning to do her job. Mariella is still in high school; she’s taken on doing things at home like laundry and meals. My brother helps my dad with the yard and cars and man stuff as they call it. I think man stuff is more like spending time in the garage chit-chatting with an occasional loop around the yard on the mower.
We are just opening up when my dad walks in the office with a man following behind him carrying a baby in a car seat carrier thing. Dad drove us to work, but he went right over to the garage next door to work while mom and I came in here to get the office going.
The new guy stands with my dad just inside the front door. He’s a prospect. No one has bothered to tell me his name. Sure, I have seen him around, but we haven’t spoken. With my dad being a Hellion, I know what the cut means and the patches. He’s got the cut, but no insignia and only his prospect patch. He has to do his time and earn the brotherhood. How they earn it? I don’t have a clue. How long it takes? It seems to vary. I can’t pinpoint any two prospects working it out in some steady timeline.
This man is a beast. Tall, broad shoulders, a chiseled jaw line, he is seriously hot. There is a seriousness to him that I feel tension literally rolling off him.
“Vida,” my father greets my mother then looks to me, “Maritza, glad you’re here today, hija.” He walks beyond me to my mother and kisses her.
This is something he has done for years. It doesn’t matter who is around, what he needs to say, he always kisses my mother before expressing anything else. For the longest time it annoyed me, grossed me out, and I don’t know but I didn’t like it. With my mom’s diagnosis, I actually treasure and respect that he makes loving her a priority above any conversation they need to have.
“Dillon here needs some help today,” my dad explains as the man lifts the car seat up and onto the chair in front of my mother’s desk. He hasn’t been around when I have been much, I didn’t realize he had a baby.
My mother nods with the same smile that has always brightened every day for me. “Of course, what can we do for you, Dillon?”
“It’s my son, ma’am. I’m sorry to ask this. I need this job. His mother, she’s not feeling well and dropped him off with me here. I wasn’t expecting this. Again, I’m sorry. I don’t have other arrangements made.”
About that time Danza strolls in breaking the lock I have on the man. “Hanging out in the office doesn’t fix my car, Prospect,” he states firmly. I find myself standing up straight while moving closer to the stranger and his baby. My instincts want me to tell Danza to calm down, but I’ve lived this club life and no better than to insert myself into any brother’s business.
Danza is always a wild card. Even at his age, he doesn’t slow down. He has always been intimidating, especially as an original. It’s also because he’s hard to read. Sometimes, he jokes with sarcasm, and I can’t tell he’s being silly. How he can always keep a firm face is a true gift.
“I’m sorry, Danza. I will get right back to it. I have to get things squared away for my son. I need this job. Anna, she isn’t well today.” He is sort of rambling while explaining. His unease makes me uncomfortable as I want to comfort him. “She showed up while Ruby and I were working on your ride. She dropped Hollis,” he gestures to the car seat, “off and left. I don’t have childcare arranged. I’m sorry.”
My dad, Ruby is his road name from the club, reaches out and gives Dillon’s shoulder a squeeze. “Calm down, Vida will watch him. No need for the boy to be in daycare when his momma is just having a day where she needs some rest. My girls have him. Nothing for you to worry about or apologize for.”
Danza looks to my mother, “Vida, you good with that?”
She smiles proudly, “of course, I miss those days with little ones.” Now I’m the one beaming with pride. My mom is the best mom, there isn’t a moment of my life or my siblings’ lives that she hasn’t been our rock.
“Prospect, drop the boy, and let’s get to work,” Danza orders and the man’s face softened.
“I can keep my job?” He asks not hiding his surprise.
Why is he worried about his job? I’m curious as to who this man is and what he has going on.
Danza’s eyes widen, “Dillon, I told you, things change for you now. The moment your ass rearended my hot rod we are tied together. When I heard that woman screaming through the car at you, I told you I have your back. You aren’t doing this shit alone anymore. Vida is a mother of three, Maritza here is one of her children. She didn’t drop one of them babies on their heads ever.” We all stare at him, and I know my mouth drops open with his statement. “Hollis will be fine.”
Danza shrugs, “what? You get dropped on your head Maritza? Ruby, you didn’t tell me Vida was a baby dropper. Sheesh, ya think you know someone.”
I shake my head as I laugh, only Danza to which he grins a shit-eating smirk.
He continues not missing a beat, “Dillon, your son will be fine here. You can work fixing my car and whatever else comes in, make a paycheck, and then come get your son and go home when the day is done.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Dillon replies in shock.
“How about, here is the diaper bag? Then you add is usual schedule for eating and naps,” my dad encourages, “unless his momma breastfeeds him, there ain’t anything he needs that my Vida and hija won’t be able to do.”
Danza laughs, “yeah, we don’t have anyone lactating around here to help feed him. Sometimes the prospects bitch and whine more than a woman so they should have periods and produce milk, but they don’t.” He furrows his brows getting a serious look, “unless you’re gonna be one of them prospects that whines and nags, then I’ll see about buying you a breast pump to induce lactation.”
“Danza,” I gasp, “you’re embarrassing him,” I explain watching Dillon’s face blush. I extend my hand to him. “And while lactation induction can be possible for some persons born female, I don’t know that Dillon here has the necessary equipment.” I step to the prospect, “I’m Maritza Castillo, Ruby and Vida’s oldest daughter. I grew up in the club and your son will be fine here with us.”
“I’m Dillon Jacoby, I don’t know how to thank you or pay you.” He shakes my hand, and fire shoots up my arm at the contact. I guess we have static electricity or something.
I smile, “this is an internship, I don’t get paid regardless, see payment is not necessary. We got your kiddo, and you can focus on whatever jobs they need you to do.”
Moving to his side, I take the strap of the diaper bag pulling it down off his shoulder. “Danza makes a point,” I smirk. “Does he breastfeed or bottle feed? And what’s his schedule?”
Dillon shakes his head, “he bottle feeds. The formula, bottle, and the water to mix it is in the diaper bag. There are diapers and wipes. He’s teething so there are teethers in the bag too. He doesn’t have a schedule. I take over once I get home and wait for him to cry or root as the book explained it that I read when Anna was pregnant.”
Scooping up the handle of the carrier car seat, I take the boy and gesture with the hand holding the diaper bag, “go on, work. We got this, what’s his name?”
Dillon stands straight up as pride washes over him, “Hollis Dillon Jacoby.”
“We’re gonna take care of Hollis and you go take care of Danza’s car. He’s worse than a baby crying over his toys being scratched.” My mother jokes while my dad gives her a kiss on the cheek before leading Dillon and Danza out of the office door.
Looking down, the most clear blue eyes meet mine and instantly I’m connected to the baby in front of me. This sweet little boy will definitely make the day go by differently than I imagined when I got up this morning.
Absolutely, totally, without a doubt, worth it.