34. Red Herring
RED HERRING
Alejandro
Ican’t focus during mass.
Dahlia hits me twice with the hymnal when I forget to kneel and make the sign of the cross. I keep thinking about my mother and the dozen phone calls I haven’t answered in the past few weeks.
Mom is a sensitive topic for me—for all of us.
She wasn’t in her right mind when Dad died and we’ve all forgiven her for it.
The part I’ve always struggled with was how she completely cut herself off from this way of life, even at the expense of her relationship with her children.
She wasn’t completely absent from our lives afterward but her presence dwindled until it nearly vanished completely.
It got to the point where we didn’t even know where she was living anymore and she had to be tracked down.
Years ago when I sent Dahlia home after that first summer, I went looking for her.
I found she’d been living in the Rio Grande house for a while and I almost went to see her.
Why, I don’t know. I guess it had been the first time in a long time where I’d genuinely longed for my mother.
Her presence, her guidance, her wisdom. I had needed a parent. But I never sought her out.
Things changed a little bit after Allegra was born. Diego really wanted Mom to be there and it opened the door of communication for us in a big way.
Now I can’t help but wonder if, like that year Dahlia spent in New York, I waited too long. Not to apologize to my mother but maybe finally muster up the courage to demand one for me.
I don’t want my mother to be an outsider in her own family.
I want my children to know their grandmother and I want her to grow old with us but I can’t do that yet.
Whatever I’ve done to push her away, I’m willing to ask forgiveness for it.
I’m willing to forgive her for but she has to ask for it first.
Maybe I need to give her the opportunity.
Easter passes by in the blink of an eye.
An hour-long mass followed by another two hours of saying hello to every Fulano and Fulana in the entire region and then back to the hacienda to prepare for dinner.
The kitchen is chaos and there are so many of us that Dahlia and Lettie have to set the table twice because they keep miscounting the number of plates.
Abuelo sits at the head of the table. Delivers a beautiful speech about family, love, and forgiveness. Tia Jimena leads us in prayer.
The whole time I’m thinking about my mother.
I look at Dahlia, laughing and glowing as my cousins flirt with her for their own entertainment, and know that if anything ever happened to her I’d never recover. It would be over for me.
But it’s different now. In a few weeks we’ll be parents. Will that feeling change? How?
What if one day something did happen. A freak accident, an act of God, an incurable disease, and I was left alone. Without her. Except, I’d be alone plus our child. I try to think about the position my mother was in an attempt to put myself in her shoes.
She’d been with my father since she was 18 years old.
He was all she’d ever known. Their marriage, their children, and their life together.
Couple that with the complexities of our family business I imagine much of her identity was wrapped up in them as a unit.
Maybe a fracture like that really was enough to send her over the edge.
I love my mother. I understand her. And she hurt me.
They’re three truths I’ve struggled to reconcile myself with since my father’s passing and they’ve made the potential for a full and true reconciliation difficult and complicated.
Especially since I know how much she abhors the business side of our family business.
“Arias you old grump.” Dahlia gets up from her seat and kisses his cheek. “I knew you always liked me. Deep, deep down.”
She’s so beautiful.
She has refused to let the challenges of pregnancy get the better of her.
Her hair is wild and gorgeous and red and her makeup is tastefully done.
She wears a white, fitted lace dress that hugs her shape and the fabric cradles her bump perfectly.
People always say expectant mothers have a “new mother glow” but Dahlia really does.
Sometimes I look at her and can’t believe how lucky I am. She stumbled into the lounge by accident, on a day I wasn’t supposed to be there, at a time where the doors should’ve been locked. Now she’s my wife and the mother of my child.
It took us a bit of work to get here and the transition hasn’t been easy. Dahlia’s transformation was more difficult than most and I often fear for the toll it may have taken on her. I wonder if it was the same for my mother.
Catching my eyes on her, Dahlia dismisses herself from her conversation with my cousins and crosses the enclosed courtyard to meet me.
Right now, Allegra is floating paper boats in the water fountain with her parents while Lettie takes pictures with our father’s camera.
Music plays from the radio in the living room and Anastasia’s husband spins her in so many circles she looks like she’s going to faint or vomit. Probably both.
Dahlia stops in front of me and lifts a hand to wiggle her wedding finger. “I’m married.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. And you keep making eyes at me from across the room. My husband is going to get jealous.”
“I can take him.”
“Oh, I’m not so sure about that. He’s big, and tall, and strong…”
I wrap my arms around her and hold her against me.
“And he has a really, really great ass.”
“How is that relevant?”
She rises to the tips of her toes and kisses me. “What’s on your mind?”
The song changes and I take it as an opportunity to pull her in for a dance.
We fall into step together easily. The movements are fluid and natural and she rests her head on my shoulder as she lets me take the lead.
“You were thinking about something earlier,” she says. “What was it?”
“I was thinking about you. I’m always thinking about you.”
“Hm. Nice save.”
“I was thinking of how far you’ve come.”
She looks up at me with furrowed brows. “Me?”
I reach up and push the hair out of her face. “You gave up a lot to be with me.”
“Yes. I did.”
“You changed a lot too.” I muse aloud. “Sometimes it feels like I…I don’t know. Like I corrupted you somehow.”
“You corrupt me often. I believe that’s how I got pregnant in the first place.” She teases.
“Dahlia.”
“What? You can make a dirty joke and I can’t? You’re no fun.” Sensing how serious I am, she tilts her head and lays a hand on my chest. “Is everything okay? Are you upset?”
“No. Quite the opposite. I think this is the happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life.”
She takes her hand in mine and says, “You are worth every sacrifice I have ever made. Worth that and then some. I know I…well, in the beginning, I was a little difficult.”
“Dee—”
“No, wait, please? Let me say this.” She presses her lips together before continuing.
“You make this life worth living for me. You and nothing else. I’d love you as you are now, as a humble farmer, or as the most powerful man in the world.
You would still be you and whatever I’d have to do to have you, to fit into your world, I would do it. Because you fit into mine.
“I know sometimes you think we’re on an uneven playing field and maybe that’s true.
I did have to sacrifice a lot and I have changed but not in the ways that matter.
You make me so happy.” She whispers. “You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of and then some.
So whatever it is, get out of your head about it.
I want you to be here with me and not somewhere in your thoughts, a million miles away. ”
Where words fail me, I settle for a kiss instead.
Dahlia leans into me and fists the front of my shirt as she holds me closer. I’m so caught up in the moment I almost forget my entire family is here.
Someone whistles and I look over.
“Oye, primo,” Anthony teases. “You don’t need to show us how Dahlia found herself in this condition. We already know.”
Everyone laughs but my body seizes with alarm the moment Dahlia tenses in my arms.
“Are you all right?”
With pinched brows and a scrunched-up nose, she nods through deep breaths. “That one hurt more than usual. I think I should—ow!”
Dahlia screams.
The whole room falls dead silent. Dahlia’s eyes widen with shock as she looks at me. ‘That really hurt.”
“Do you—”
Dahlia cries out and the sound is followed by a gasp. Karina springs to her feet and rushes over from where she was by the water fountain.
“Dee?” she says.
“I—”
Dahlia can’t seem to get a word out. All of sudden there’s a whoosh and liquid pools beneath her feet. Chaos erupts around us.
“The baby’s coming!”
“Where’s the car?”
“I don’t know, who has the keys?”
“Someone get my purse!”
“Kay,” Dahlia says in a shaky voice. “I’m…I’m early. Kay, I’m early.”
“Only by two weeks, that’s very normal.” She coaxes gently. “Here, give me your hand.”
Oh my God…
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God
“Diego!” I call out.
Diego hands over Allegra to Lettie before rushing over. “I’m here, what do you need.”
“I don’t know, I don’t know what I need, our hospital bag is in the house!”
“Don’t panic!” Karina snaps. “Is your vagina about to push out an eight-pound baby? No. So calm down.”
Dahlia says through short bursts of breath, “Oh my God, my baby can’t be eight-pounds where is it going to come out of!”
“Where do we go, the hospital?” Diego asks.
“Manizales is too far, she might not make it.” I say. “Let’s take her to the clinic.”
Sofia passes on her way back inside. “I’ll go upstairs and pack a bag, we’ll follow you into town!”
“Bring my fluffy robe,” Dahlia moans. “And my slippers!”
I grab her face and kiss her quickly. “Have I told you how much I love you?”
“Tell me after because right now, I think this baby is going to split me open.”
* * *
“Dahlia, push! Push!”
Dahlia lets out a fierce battle cry before collapsing onto the bed again. “Don’t they usually give mothers epidurals? I’ve seen Grey’s Anatomy, I know my rights!”
“Mi amor, you went into labor too quickly remember?” Not to mention we’re at a local family clinic in Santa Lucia with no anesthesiologist and I really, really wish I had trusted my instincts and stayed in Barcelona for Easter. “You have to keep pushing.”
“Oh my God,” she cries quietly. “Your poor mother…pushing those massive heads out of her tiny body…my head is perfect. Karina and I have lovely heads.”
I think she’s delirious. I wish there was more I could do for her but the labor has been swift and intense.
We would’ve never made it to Manizales much less gotten there in time for her to be medicated and monitored properly.
I didn’t even think women could give birth so quickly.
Especially not after receiving the “I spent twenty-eight hours bringing you into this world” speech from my own mother my whole life.
Dr. Cruz looks up from behind her glasses and says, “The baby’s head is crowning. We’re almost there.”
Dahlia’s hand tightens around mine. “I don’t…Alex, I can’t…”
“Just breathe. I’m here, I’m right here.” I kiss her hand. “You’re doing beautifully, you’re doing so well.”
“All right, now I’m going to need one last push from you okay?” Dr. Cruz says. “One more. Take a deep breath.”
Dahlia’s grip on my hand is numbing but I don’t care.
I’m in the most uncomfortable position possible, kneeling on the edge of the bed while trying to support her from the back.
She leans into me and I think it might be helpful but I can’t be sure.
I just wish I could make it all go away as quickly as possible.
Dahlia lets out a ferocious cry as she pushes and Dr. Cruz adjusts her position. “Good, good! One more! One more, Dahlia!”
Dahlia cries out at the same time a shrill, high-pitched screaming fills the room.
“It’s a boy!” Dr. Cruz exclaims.
A boy
A boy
A boy
Dahlia collapses against me. She gasps for air in between words. “A boy…it’s a boy.”
Dr. Cruz moves faster than my eyes can track. She places our son on Dahlia’s chest with a blanket on his back. “Watch his head.”
Dahlia weeps through bouts of laughter as she cradles our son against her chest. I peel back the edge of the blanket and can’t breathe, can’t think.
Dr. Cruz extends a pair of scissors to me. “Would you like to do the honors?”
I cut the umbilical cord and Dahlia looks up at me. “We have a son.”
I wish I could slow this moment down. Time is moving at a pace I cannot keep up with. My body is still in the car on the ride here, my head in the living room, my thoughts still stuck on this morning. It isn’t until our son lets out a cry that I finally feel brought back down to earth.
He’s beautiful. So, so beautiful and this is all I have ever wanted. My wife, my son, my life. I can’t believe I finally have it all.
“You are the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you.” I kiss her. “Te amo, te amo, te amo tanto.”
She kisses me back and her tears mix with the sweetness on our lips. “I told you. I told you it was a boy. I knew it would be.”
He has rosy cheeks and soft hair and the smallest little nose. Ten toes, ten fingers, and he yawns when I trace the outline of his face.
A raw, burning feeling claws its way up my throat at the sight of him. It feels like everything inside of me is expanding to make room for him.
He fills me with so much muchness. An entire life plays out like a movie in my mind and I see all his firsts, can hear his voice before he’s spoken, and know what color his eyes will be before he’s opened him.
And I know I’ve known love before because I have his mother and he’s here but this is unlike anything I ever thought possible.
Unlike anything I ever thought could be real.
For the first time in my entire life, I finally understand how our father felt about us. And I know, without a doubt, that any decision he ever made was to protect us and this feeling we birthed inside of him.
I know how dark my world has gotten. I swear on my life that darkness will never touch my son.
“We have to pick an A name for him.” Dahlia says.
“It can be any name. Whatever you want.”
“Still dead set against junior?”
I can hardly hear her.
He’s so, so small.
“How about Mateo?”
“Mateo. That’s my middle name.” He has little ears and a little mouth. “Okay.”
“It can be his middle name too,” she says. “Not his first.”
He’s so beautiful. So beautiful and so small and so mine and I am going to love him until the day I die.
Dahlia whispers, “I was thinking…Lisandro.”
My head snaps up.
“After your dad.” Her lips curve with a tentative smile. “We could call him Andi for short. That’ll be his A name.”
“I…” words fail me. I can barely squeeze out a strangled, “Are you sure?”
She nods. “I’ve never been surer of anything else. Except maybe you.”
Andi.
“I think that’s perfect.”