12. The End

CHAPTER 12

THE END

HALSEY

My mother likes to act as though this is her house, but it belongs to me. I bought it from my aunt with money I’d saved up working two jobs during high school. I wanted a place of my own where I could study and so my boyfriend and I could have some privacy. The bungalow style house isn’t fancy, but it has two bedrooms. We planned to turn one bedroom into an office, and after I finished college, a nursery. Two months after I signed the deed, the city condemned Mama and Dani’s apartment. Luis hadn’t found a job yet, and I worked two shitty jobs while going to class. We needed money, and my family needed somewhere to live.

My office—nothing but a few stacks of boxes—became Dani’s room, but when I asked Luis to help us build an extension in the back for Mama, he lost his shit and disappeared. While we had the house to ourselves, Dani and I conned two of our brothers to come down from Montana and help us. In two days, the four of us renovated the back of the house into a separate room for Mama. We’ve been saving up ever since to get someone to come in and replace the bookshelves with actual walls, but we make it work. I lost a laundry room, but now I spend one night a week at the laundromat watching Mama gossip with the other neighborhood old ladies.

It didn’t surprise me when Luis refused to adjust to the new living arrangements. He liked his space and privacy. He also liked his rules being followed, and things to be done his way and only his way. I paid the price for going against his wishes when he came back. I paid with more than just blood, and I almost paid with my life..

“Luis? What did he tell you? When?”

“Tonight! He drove me to the senior center. He even came in and met Tommy. That’s when he told me about your lies.”

“What are you talking about, Mama? He’s not supposed to be up for parole for almost two more years! What lies?”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it!”

“Well, I DO! Tell me what he said!” Mama and I butt heads regularly. It comes with our quick tempers, or that’s what my father used to say.

“He said you were trading drugs for…for… tener relaciones sexuales !” I stare at her, unable to form a response in my shock. She reaches out for my hand and her voice softens. “Renate, he said he wants to help you, wants to take you back. Please, you need to let him help you.”

“Tía, no!” Teresa says from behind me. “You can’t listen to Luis.”

“He wants her back!” she repeats, hope on her face. “He can fix everything. Please, call him and we can get you help! He said he’d forgive you, mi bella hija .”

I never told my mother about Luis and me. Embarrassment wouldn’t allow me to, especially after the wedding. In my mind, he would change if we were married, and I played the dutiful wife. And he did, but not in the ways I’d hoped. Even though I didn’t tell her, I assumed she knew at least some of what happened.

The memories flood my mind as she stares at me, willing me to listen to her. The ER visits, the lies about being clumsy or blaming it on the kids in the school once I became a teacher. How could she not notice sixteen years of abuse?

“Renate?”

“No!” I snap back at her. “I’ve never sold myself for drugs! That’s idiotic! I’m a teacher, for fuck’s sake!”

Luis is a manipulative snake and I’m not surprised he tried to pin the divorce on me. But telling people I’m a drug addict and a sex worker? That shit could cost me my job. I need to call my lawyer in the morning to see why they never told us about his release over a year early.

“Don’t use that language! Your Papa and I loved?—”

“Don’t talk to him anymore, Mama. He’s not supposed to be here.” I turn and see Teresa standing in the kitchen door, gesturing back to my mother. She’s right, even without saying a word. I need to tell my mother why Luis and I got divorced. “Fine. Come on, Mama, come out here and let me talk to you about this like adults instead of screaming.”

The three of us sit around the kitchen table, drinking tea while my mother nibbles on cookies. She’s not looking at me, like she already has her defense against whatever I’m about to say planned out. I need to know if Luis has been to the center before tonight, and what else he’s told her.

“You and Papa loved Luis, I understand that?—”

“You loved him, too. His father used to work with your father. Back in Mexico when they were young men, always so nice and helpful. I remember how sweet Luis was as a baby.”

“Tía, he didn’t stay that way,” Teresa says before laying her hand on my arm. “You buried this in your heart and your mind because you didn’t want to believe it. I told you. My mother told you. You can’t blame Renny for this.”

My mother ignores her and drinks her tea without looking at us.

“Luis grew up to be a dangerous man with demons, so many demons. He’s in a gang, Tía. He’s the one selling drugs, trafficking women and children, hurting people and families. You saw at least that much, don’t you?”

“No! Don’t you talk that way about my Luis!” Mama used to babysit Luis and his little sister, and sometimes I forget how ingrained into my family he became long before we started dating. “He has some ugly friends, that’s all. If he was back with you, you could help him.”

“He hit me, Mama. He hit me and sent me to the hospital too many times to count. He left me with scars, Mama, and I’m not speaking only metaphorically. He almost killed me. Don’t you remember?”

“The drugs did that!”

“You knew he did drugs?”

Her eyes shoot open. “No, baby. You were! He only wanted to help you get off the drugs, and you attacked him. He defended himself. He worried about you, that you were going to hurt yourself.”

My brow furrows as I stare at her from across the table. I glance at Teresa and she’s as surprised as I am about the news that I took drugs and attacked Luis. When Mama sees us exchanging glances, she gets annoyed and fidgets with the tablecloth. She doesn’t want to believe me, but it’s not like her to think I’m lying.

“Luis said you went to the hospital so much because of the drugs. He said they wouldn’t allow visitors while they helped you.”

“Well, that’s not how any of that happened,” Teresa replied. She stayed with me the entire time, keeping Luis from doing anything more to me. “What about when he broke her wrist for the fourth time? That was only a few years ago.”

I’m ashamed to think back on all of this, at how long I let it go on. Years of beatings and abuse before I finally got help. I recognize the same shame in Mama as she avoids looking at me. She knew, but she couldn’t stop it, so it became easier to pretend not to see it. Maybe he threatened her, too.

“What else did he tell you?”

“He said when you got home, you stole money from him to get drugs on the street when you took all yours from the doctor too fast.”

“He stole them before I ever took any. Sold them while I suffered, miserable and in pain.” I rub my wrist as the memories of how badly it hurt come back to me. “He thought he could be a drug runner for the gang, that it would make him rich. He sold them my prescriptions to impress them and said he would get more. He wanted to keep hurting me until I died!”

“My Luis wouldn’t do that.”

“You’re right, your Luis wouldn’t. But your Luis no longer exists.” I hold my hand out, offering it to my mother. She stares at it for a while, studying it like she’s checking for teeth. I don’t want her to blame herself for any of this; he hides his true nature from people, uses them. “We married too young, Mama. Neither of us were ready, and Luis didn’t treat me very well even before that. All those times I couldn’t come over, couldn’t eat, couldn’t take off my jacket? Luis did that. He stole from me, lied to me, lied to my family.”

“He used to be a good boy,” she whispers.

“Tía, if you see him again, you need to tell the security guard, okay? If you can’t find them, well, call the police or stay near people.” She squeezes my hand as she tells my mother of hospital trips, walk-in clinics, and driving me all the way to south Orange County to see new doctors when the ones here stopped treating me.

She’s reluctant, but after Teresa talks to her, my mother gives in and promises not to talk to him anymore. It’s hard on her because she only wants to remember Luis as a young boy, because those are memories with Papa. My father treated Luis like a son, always saying Luis made him proud and how one day, Luis would build me a castle and make me a princess. I wanted to believe that fairytale would come true. Or maybe I missed my father. I always believed things would have been different if Papa hadn’t died.

It’s after midnight when Teresa and I say our goodbyes. We make plans to get lunch before she heads back home to Chicago. After she leaves, I start a fresh pot of coffee and take my meds out of the fridge. My head aches, and my body is sore from the stress. I take my injection, hoping it will stave off the flare that’s coming. I try to convince myself it won’t be so bad the day after an injection, but that’s not true. Those are some of the hardest days for me and we still don’t understand why.

I sit down at the table with my coffee, a piece of pizza, and a box of grading I need to get through. I’m only three tests in when my phone chirps, but I ignore it. Chase will understand. It chirps again and I sigh, staring at the paper in front of me and trying to read this student’s handwriting. Next year, no more paper tests. I’ve had enough of this. The third time it chirps, I scoop it up in frustration, but it’s not Chase.

DANIELLA

Dude, where are you?

Wake up, I need to know you’re okay!

Luis is here, and I’m freaking the fuck out!

When she answers, it’s difficult to hear her over the noise of the club, but I can tell she’s walking as the sounds become distant and muffled. “TELL ME YOU’RE AT HOME!”

“I am, and you don’t have to yell. Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Xander and his weird ass rich white boy posse are watching him. I’ll probably go to his place tonight. Hey, look at us, both catching a rich white guy!”

It’s been a running joke between my sister, my mother, and I that her kids only date white people since all of my brothers are with white partners. Mama loves to joke back, saying she doesn’t know where she went wrong. She says that even more with Dani, who has spent months trying to explain that pansexual doesn’t mean she enjoys cooking.

“You’re crazy. Be safe and stay away from you know who. I love you.”

“You too! I’ll call if shit gets too weird, but so far, he’s hanging out by the bar. He knows I’ve seen him. Fucker.”

I hang up and open my laptop, writing a quick email to my lawyer, telling her Luis has been contacting my family, or at least hanging around where they’ll see him. It’s a scare tactic, and we’re not falling for it. Mama, well, I’m not sure what she thinks after everything tonight. When I’m done, I go back to grading.

The next time my phone chirps, I’m startled by it, fully in the grading zone and nearly done. The clock tells me it’s after three in the morning.

Snuggle Puppy

Hey, beautiful. I wanted to check in. Hopefully, this doesn’t wake you and you’re sound asleep after having a wonderful night with your cousin. Sorry about the drunk call. I hope I wasn’t too much of an ass.

I flip through the last of the tests and decide to finish them tomorrow on my lunch break. I pack everything up and as I go to stand, my body reminds me I’ve been in that position for far too long. My joints gelled from lack of movement and none of them will move. I hobble to the bathroom, skip half of my nightly routine, and crash hard into my bed. If I’m lucky, I might get three hours of sleep, otherwise, the pain will keep me awake until the alarm goes off.

Twenty minutes later, I unplug my phone and curl into a ball under the covers.

Sorry I didn’t text. Late night. You weren’t an ass.

Snuggle Puppy

It’s almost four in LA. Why are you up?

Too much coffee?

Snuggle Puppy

Are you pissed about the call earlier? I’m really sorry about that.

No, it was nice to hear your voice. I had a rough night.

Snuggle Puppy

Anything I can do?

I’ll be fine. I just wanted to say goodnight. How was filming?

Snuggle Puppy

I can tell you about it tomorrow night. Get some sleep, Ren.

I’m glad you’re okay. I got a little worried. Call me if you want to.

Goodnight, beautiful.

Goodnight, Chase.

I want to tell him to call me so I could listen to the comfort of his voice again. I’m in pain physically and emotionally, and I’m confused about how I’m supposed to feel about the boy who’s texting me late at night, who worries about me, who I wish was here to hold me when we’re just supposed to be friends.

I cry myself to sleep for the first time in months.

* * *

My alarm goes off far too early, and as I reach for it, I force my arm to straighten out. It takes three tries to stand up from the bed before my knees decide they do, in fact, remember how to behave. When I get to the bathroom, I stare at the tub and shake my head. I won’t be able to climb into it for a shower, so I wet a washcloth instead. The bags under my eyes are dark, and I add a little extra makeup to cover it. Learning how to cover bruises and black eyes has its advantages…I guess.

I get dressed at a snail’s pace before trudging out to the kitchen. To my surprise, Mama sits at the table, my travel mug of coffee there in front of her with steam rising from the lid. I can smell the cinnamon.

“You were up too late. I knew it would be a rough morning, so I wanted to make sure you had time to get something to eat on the way.”

“I told Marta I wouldn’t be in early this morning. Care to join me for breakfast and I’ll drop you off at work?”

“Can we go to the fancy place?” I laugh and nod. Mama’s idea of a fancy place for breakfast is a Taiwanese bakery with case after case of sweet and savory pastries. Mama always loads an entire tray for her co-workers. I’ll admit it’s delicious, but it’s not fancy.

I should take Chase on a date to the fancy bakery and see how he reacts.

Mama and I load my papers into the car and, as I’m adjusting my driver’s seat to handle the stiffness, she takes my hand and squeezes it tight.

“Luis’s father wasn’t a nice man either, and he tried to hurt me. It’s why your father turned him in, but we never told Luis about that, or you.” She smiles at me. “I should have listened to my heart and not his son’s lies. I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

“It’s okay, Mama.” I reach over and give her a weak hug, and she rubs my back. “Now, let’s go buy up a shit ton of pastries.”

“Renate, you swear too much!”

“Every damn day, Mama. I love you.