24. Maricela
A lioness is ready to do anything for her children. And I’m such a lioness.
I remember not long ago, I saw a video online where parents were asked if they would kill for their children, and when some of them answered no, I knew they were not real parents. Now I know it’s the truth.
Maternal concern was a concept I understood from afar, even though, in my head, I thought I knew what it was.
Serena was the one I thought I loved in a motherly way. I always worried about her state of mind, her health, her well-being, always ensuring she ate first, and no one bothered her.
I put her concerns before mine. No matter where we were, I always protected her and fought for her tooth and nail.
Still, I have never felt such great fury and fear as I did half an hour ago when I received the call from Connie’s teacher. Someone beat Connie—my little angel.
I was on my way to the car to ask Pedro to take me to pick up the children when I got the call. When we arrived at the school moments ago, I didn’t expect to see him—Killian, yes, I can say his name even in my head now—standing there, holding Connie, who was hugging his neck like a little monkey.
Now, in the office, we sit before the school principal, who is close to fifty years old, with religiously collected hair on top of her head and facial paint that locates her cheek. Beside her is a little boy who looks downright petrified after she finishes explaining to us what happened.
Apparently, Connie insisted on telling everyone that her uncles, all six of them, are good.
One of the boys—this one—who bothered her before told her she was a liar and hit her.
“She’s physically fine,” the principal explains, “and Joshua won’t touch her again. Right?” she adds, addressing the boy.
“He won’t touch my niece again,” Killian announces, using his capo voice.
The boy’s eyes instantly fill with tears. It would have been comical to look at Killian looming over a little boy if I wasn’t fuming.
“Because you’ll kill me?”
To Connie’s credit, she doesn’t let Killian answer the rude boy because she says, “My uncle doesn’t hurt little kids. He’s good. Not like my dad. My dad was bad, and you’re bad too.”
“I’m sorry,” the teacher interjects.
“I didn’t think he would know about the incident. From what I comprehend, he heard it on the news. We warned him several times.”
News, my ass. It was his mother, who has yet to arrive.
“And yet you let him hurt Connie,” I say in the sharpest voice I can manage.
“You’re right, and it won’t happen again.”
“It won’t happen again because I want to talk to Joshua’s parents.”
“Miss Maricela, I understand your anger, but—”
“I think Connie’s aunt asked for a meeting with the parents of our little rumor spreader. We’ll wait,” Killian states, and the little boy’s cries become louder.
“What is a rumor sped-er?” Connie asks.
Despite how mad I am, watching Killian explain the words to her brings a smile to my face. I never thought I would reach this moment where I could see Killian as my future.
He doesn’t know everything. When he does, he’ll leave you. Or worse, he’ll demand you leave, the dark voice in my head says, waking up and reminding me of everything I’m hiding from Killian.
“You won’t do anything bad to them. Will you?”
Connie looks at Killian with hope, as if she thinks there’s a chance he might kill the boy who dared to touch her.
Killian whispers to her something that only she can hear, and Connie glances over at me before saying, “Uncle Killian, I think Aunt Maricela is mad.” She tries to whisper as well, but we all hear her.
Killian says, “It’s because she loves you. We’ll wait for her right outside. I think she’ll be fine without us.”
Killian takes Connie out into the hallway. As the door closes behind him, the principal says, “Miss Maricela, I understand you’re upset, but he’s just a boy.”
“No. I let it go when I heard he told Connie cruel lies about her uncle and told her the truth about her father and the brutal death of her mother. She’s not even five. And I understand this child isn’t at fault, not fully. Children should not be punished for what their parents teach them. It’s the parents who should educate the kids.”
“Joshi.” A woman slightly older than me bursts into the room.
She’s dressed expensive lyin a purple cashmere dress, carrying a handbag that costs more than anything I’ve ever worn or likely ever will. Her hair is pulled into a neat bun that looks like an expert hairstylist did it. This woman is old money.
“Ma’am...” I stand in front of the woman who notices me for the first time.
“Adair. Nora Adair.”
“Ms. Adair, I’m Constanza Fierro’s aunt, Maricela Fernandez.”
Her expression isn’t new to me. It is an expression of contempt. My last name doesn’t fit her son’s kindergarten. Too fucking bad, bruja de mierda.
“So, like I said, I’m Connie’s aunt. Today, I got a call about your son Josh not only harassing my niece like he’s been doing for weeks, but now he’s also used physical violence. Look, ma’am,” I say with disdain, “I want to ask you to speak with your son.”
“My son doesn’t raise his hands to girls. He knows how to behave like a gentleman.” The woman brushes me off as if I’m a mere bug in her vicinity.
“The scratches on Connie’s skin tell a different story. More than that, this girl who’s out there hugging her uncle like a scared little monkey doesn’t want to return to kindergarten after what your son did to her today. What are you going to do about it?”
“Look, Missy.” She points at me with her long, well-groomed nails. “You won’t talk to me like that. You’re not at the level of this kindergarten, and if the girl feels like she doesn’t belong, maybe she shouldn’t be here.”
“Do you know who the man she’s hugging is? I don’t think you paid enough attention to that girl’s last name, lady.” I point at her with pink and purple nails that Connie decided would suit me, a polish I forgot to remove. “She’s Killian Fierro’s niece. He’s the one standing there.” I point at him through the glass, knowing how impolite it is, just to irritate her more.
Folding my arms over my chest, I go on without giving her a chance to comment.
“He runs one of the biggest companies in this country, and you’re not wrong when you say I’m not at your level or status, nor do I want to stoop to the level of someone like you. Now, all I ask—no, all I demand of you is to shut your filthy mouth around your child, who repeats what he undoubtedly hears from you and your old money gossip club. Do that, and I won’t ask Mr. Fierro’s partner, Liam Bourne, to sue you for defamation. I’ve heard he has ninety-nine percent success with his cases, and I don’t think you’re going to be in his one percent. Especially when it has to do with someone like Connie. So you have a good day, ma’am.”
Without waiting for her response, I yank open the door and give Connie a big smile.
“Let’s go. I believe Joshi won’t hurt you again.” I make sure to say it loud enough for the principal and Joshi’s mother to hear me, too.
“Do you want me to put you down?” Killian asks her before they get to the car.
“Can you hold me longer? Daddy didn’t hold me like this,” she admits in a small voice.
And I swear if I could do anything, it would be to bring that bastard back to life and show him the lovely girl he left motherless. Killian doesn’t say a word and continues to hold her.
“I have an idea,” I say, trying to sound as bright as possible.
“Amado’s school is a twenty-minute walk from here. What if we leave our vehicles here, call Marlina, and pick up Amado on foot? The weather is nice today.”
“‘Kay,” Connie says without moving from her perch on her uncle’s neck. Killian nods and instructs Pedro, and we then set off down the sidewalk.
“Uncle Killian?”
“Yes, Connie.”
“Why doesn’t Hero live with us? Is he with Uncle Maddox? Uncle Maddox told me Hero is your doggie.”
I haven’t seen Hero in four years, although I’ve heard about him in passing. I didn’t imagine he would stay with Killian when the guys separated their homes. Killian hated dogs.
“Aren’t you afraid of Hero? He’s such a big dog.” Connie lifts her head to look at her uncle as if he’s being silly.
“Hero will protect me. And he’s cute.”
Killian grins. “You know what? You’re right. He’s charming. We’ll go get him after we get your brother.” She nods once, smiles shyly, and then puts her head back into the crook of his neck.
We walk like that for quite a while until she speaks again, her voice almost mouse-like. “Uncle Killian?”
“Yes, Connie.”
“You’re good?”
“I’m good to the people I care about.”
“Uncle Killian?”
“Yes, Connie?”
“You care about me?”
He squeezes her to him. “I care about you, absolutely.”
“Aunt Fairy, I don’t think you’re doing it right.” Connie looks at the sticky dough between her fingers.
“Really? And who insisted on spreading more chocolate in the dough?”
“It’s yummy. I like yummy things.”
She stomps her foot with the stubbornness of a girl her age, who cannot be wrong in the face of the world in any way, just like Serena.
“You know what? You’re right.”
I spread the watery dough on her nose and hurry to add flour to save these cookies.
“Amado, what are you doing?”
I take the mixing spoon from him that he tried to shove all the way into his mouth and tickle him with my clean hand. Or the hand I thought was clean because his gray shirt is now stained with chocolate.
“You know we’ll have to clean this up, my young lady.”
I look at Connie, who opens her round eyes in shock. I try to get her to do things for herself when I’m here. Granted, a princess like herself doesn’t need to know how to cook and clean, but I need to know she can manage.
“I never clean up,” she admits and puts her fingers full of chocolate in her mouth. It will be hard to get her to go to bed tonight, that’s for sure.
“Don’t you help pick up the toys at school?”
She shakes her head as if just the thought is foolish. “Why not?”
“You’re mad?”
“Connie, honey.”
I sit her on the chair and stop the tears before they come.
“I’m not mad at you. I’m just interested in what you do. That’s how I get to know you.”
“‘Kay.”
“So, you don’t usually help clean up?”
“No. Marlina and the teacher do it.”
“So, how about we help Marlina sometimes? You love her, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Good. So when we love people, we want to help them when we can. And we can help Marlina by tidying up the things we use. Today, we made a mess in the kitchen, so we’ll clean it up. Do you want to help me clean up after you so we don’t leave everything to Marlina?”
“But I don’t know how to clean,” she admits in a small, disappointed voice.
I slip the cookies into the oven and turn back to her with a smile.
“I’ll teach you. It’s not hard. First, wash your hands because you can’t clean with dirty hands. Otherwise, we’ll make more of a mess.”
I pick her up and hold her over the sink so she can turn on the water. “Like this, with more soap. Our hands must be clean.”
“And what are we doing now?”
“Now we’re going to clean up, which can be boring sometimes, but you can make it fun. Do you want to make it fun?”
“Yes!”
So that’s what we do. I sing songs with her while showing her where to start. We clean the countertops and get all of the bowls and utensils we used into the dishwasher.
We then put her and Amado’s clothes into the washing machine, and I let her choose which clothes she wants to change into. It turns out that was also something she wasn’t allowed to do.
“You’re good, Aunt Fairy,” she says after we finish changing her clothes, and she runs into the living room with her green dress and knee-high green socks.
“Now, let’s change your clothes, little criminal.”
I change Amado’s diaper and dress him in clean clothes, then comb his hair back to keep it from getting into his eyes.
“I think you need a haircut, chqitin.”
Kissing his cheek and carrying him on my hip, I head for the living room, only to hear Connie scream.
“Grandma, you’re back.”
“You yell more than my wife has yelled all these years. Well, it’s just because you don’t know your place. Isabella always knew how to shut up and let me fuck her the way I want. Yell, Maricela. Yell until you can’t yell anymore, just like Isabella.”
“Your grandmother is moving in with us. What do you think of that?” I hear Killian ask, and my world collapses into itself.