Tell Me Something True (33 page)

And she told me to ask you. She told me to ask you, because she won’t take me back until I forgive you and move on. She said
she has had too much pain in her lifetime to carry the burden of someone consumed by anger. And then she started to cry. My
poor Nini. She acted against everything she believed in, for me. For nothing. Just like she did with you. But I suppose that’s
what mothers do, don’t they? When it comes to their children they will do anything… Some mothers, anyway.

Oh, Mami, I promise you, I’m not angry anymore. Okay, sometimes I am, a little bit. Do you blame me? On top of everything
else, you died on me! And for what? If you could see him now. Oh, if you could see him now. You would laugh at yourself. You
would know how silly, how finally insignificant it would all become.

Do you know not a single day has gone by that I don’t think about your diary? I have dissected and analyzed and constructed
and deconstructed every word that you wrote, trying to find clues in every cadence, some unwritten page to fill the things
you left unsaid.

I never told Daddy about what I found. How could I? We only have each other, after all, and what would I gain with that? Nini
was right. Some things are just better left unsaid.

Anyway, Mami, the truth is overrated, as you well know.

I sometimes wonder, if you came home to us, and you saw us, and maybe, maybe, decided that everything we were outweighed what
you had just found. Maybe you thought that you could make this episode a chapter in the book of your life instead of the rest
of your life.

In my book, you find something in us that you didn’t find in him. In my book, you decide that doing what’s right is actually
what you wanted all along.

But you still had to go back, didn’t you, to say good-bye.

You probably thought you would never see him again otherwise, and the thought was too terrible to bear; to have found him,
and then spend a lifetime praying for a coincidental meeting.

In my book, you went back, for just one more day.

And I want to think that it wouldn’t have mattered. That you would have come back to us, like you promised, like you planned,
regardless of what you found and what you saw and what you might have thought you needed.

I understand now, because that’s what I would have done, too.

I wouldn’t have left him behind, regardless of the consequences. I would have stayed, or at the very least, I would have returned
to him, for one last good-bye.

But I didn’t. I let others decide for me.

And now, Mami. I can’t. I can’t even find him, and I know he could find me.

The first months, I called every day. Is that what you did, too?

You must have. And I’m certain you spoke, for hours and hours, about silly things, like the weather and the latest movie you
saw and where you went out to dinner.

But I had nothing to talk about with him, because he never took my calls. Never. It was as if he had died, even though I knew
he hadn’t.

He wasn’t meant to die that day. That’s what the papers wrote after the shooting. Four bullets, none of them fatal. Minute
circumstances helped him live—the errant shots, Julio’s sudden appearance, and me.

I put him in harm’s way in the first place, by taking him there, but then, it turns out, I saved his life by stemming the
loss of blood. He must know that, he must know because he knows everything. And yet he still feels betrayed. And I would,
too.

I’ve tried to romanticize it, see? I’ve rationalized that he doesn’t want any contact from me because he wants to spare me.
But I’m only fooling myself. I abandoned him, like his mother did. What greater betrayal is there? How ironic, after he taught
me to be objective, dispassionate even, about you, about everything. He taught me how to be pragmatic. But for him, everything
is black and white.

For the longest time, I left messages on the answering machine, and then I stopped. I felt like I was leaving behind a little
piece of my soul, every time I spoke into that blank machine with no face. God knows who was listening to my voice, stealing
my thoughts.

The last time Chelita answered, and she told me he had gone back to France for some time, because he was never able to get
that U.S. visa to come here. He’ll never stop being his father’s son, after all. Chelita could have left the conversation
at that, but she also told me he sold the piano. And that’s when I really knew that there was no going back. That he had erased
me completely.

I’ve kept all the letters that have come back unopened.

Now, I have a whole box of mail that I wrote, but I can’t bring myself to read. I actually carry them with me, in a little
leather pouch, so they don’t get wet or damaged. Like you did with your diary.

Except your pages were meant to be ripped out and burned, whereas my letters are still looking for their reader.

I cling to the notion that one day I’ll meet him again, and I’ll have them—everything I poured onto paper—ready to hand over
to him, to try to make things right.

That’s why I now know that you had to go back. That you had to see him. Touch him. Talk to him. You had to look into his eyes
and know that your choice was right and fair. Because you couldn’t bear the thought of simply waiting for a random meeting,
looking around airport terminals and hotel lobbies and at traffic lights, like I do. Thinking you might, just for a second,
for the very last time, catch even a passing glance. Wondering, always wondering, like I do, what if?

What if.

I’m going back, Mami. I’m going to seal this letter to you, and take it to the cemetery, to where you lie on top of my grandfather,
and even if he hears everything, I’m going to read it to you. And I won’t care what they say, and neither will you.

And then, I’m going to burn it, Mami. I’m going to burn it with all those other pages you wrote, and I will start writing
my own story. And in time, this will only be one more chapter in that book.

Hasta mañana, Mami.

Te quiero,

Gabriella

A
lthough the characters in this book are entirely fictional, some of the incidents are based on actual events.

On December 20, 1995, Flight 965 from Miami to Cali, Colombia, crashed just outside the Cali Airport, at the height of the
Christmas season. Four passengers survived the slow-moving crash, and belongings were found largely intact. I was in Cali
at the time with my newborn daughter, and covered the aftermath of the crash for the
Los Angeles Times
. Those articles are public record, as are the transcripts from the flight’s black box, including Captain Tafuri’s words.

The same year, a notorious drug dealer was gunned down at lunchtime in a popular Cali restaurant. Although he was hit by a
hail of bullets, he survived the assassination attempt, only to be killed months later outside of Cali.

The Cali traditions of the feria and the cabalgata continue to be alive and well. American Airlines flight 921 continues its
daily evening route from Miami to Cali.

T
his book wouldn’t be a reality without the support of many wonderful, giving people.

I’d like to thank my wonderful agent, Kirsten Neuhaus, for believing wholeheartedly in Gabriella and never giving up in her
fight to find her a home. I am so lucky my manuscript found its way into her hands. And my amazing editor, Selina McLemore,
who tackled this book with so much faith and passion. Every suggestion she made was the right one.

Thanks to Alfredo Santana who saw the potential in this story and pushed me to finish it. Michael Krikorian, who motivated
me to begin writing it all those years ago at the
Los Angeles Times
. Luana Pagani, who took the time to read, and whose message on my answering machine meant more than she knows. Rich Isaacson,
who not only read, but delivered. Tommy Mottola, who sent “Gabriella” to the Vigliano agency, and, ultimately, to Kirsten’s
hands. And Lilian De la Torre, who so selflessly and wholeheartedly supports her fellow writers’ endeavors, including my own.

1. Do you think this a love story, or a story about mothers and daughters? Could it be both?

2. Do you think the importance of the mother figure is overemphasized in the book? Or do you think the absence of a mother
is truly such a transcendental issue?

3. In today’s world, is it fair to expect a woman to put her entire life at the service of her child?

4. Do you consider Helena a loving person? Why or why not?
^*

5. Why Colombia? Do you think setting the story there added something to it? If so, what? Or could the story have been set
elsewhere and offered the same impact?
^*

6. Both Gabriella and Helena are women divided between cultures, language, and upbringings. How important are these factors
in shaping who they are and what they do?

7. Are Helena and Gabriella ultimately in love with a place—in this case Colombia—and simply looking for someone who will
guide them there? Or do you think they fell in love with individuals and ended up romanticizing a place as a result?

8. Is true love doomed if it doesn’t happen with the “proper” person?

9. Do you think Gabriella made the right choice by returning home and leaving Angel? What would you have done if you were
in her position?

10. What do you think Helena’s final intentions were? Was she going to abandon Gabriella, or was she planning on saying a
final good-bye to Juan José?

11. Is infidelity overrated? Do you think Helena’s affair was understandable given her circumstances? What do you think Marcus
knew of her relationship? If he didn’t know about it, do you think he could have forgiven her for it had he found out?

12. Does Gabriella truly fall in love for the first time when she meets Angel, or is she merely rebelling against her family
for not being honest with her?

1. ¿Cree Ud. que éste es un cuento de amor, o un cuento sobre madres e hijas? ¿Podría ser de los dos?

2. ¿Cree Ud. que en la novela el énfasis en la importancia de la figura de una madre es demasiado? ¿O cree Ud. que la ausencia
de una madre es verdaderamente una cuestión transcendental?

3. ¿Hoy día, es justo exigir que una madre ponga su vida entera al servicio de su niño, y no tenga una vida suya?

4. ¿Cree Ud. que Helena es una persona cariñosa? ¿Por qué o por qué no?
^*

5. ¿Por qué Colombia? ¿Cree Ud. que el ambiente de Colombia añade algo al cuento? Si sí, qué? ¿O podría tomar lugar en otra
parte y todavía tener el mismo impacto?
^*

6. Gabriella y Helena son mujeres divididas entre culturas, idiomas y crianzas. ¿Cuánta importancia tienen estos factores
en determinar quienes son ellas y en lo que ellas hacen?

7. ¿Últimamente, están enamoradas Helena y Gabriella con un lugar—en este caso Colombia—y buscan a alguien quien pueda llevarlas
allí? ¿O cree Ud. que se enamoraron con individuos, e idolatraron el lugar a consecuencia de este amor?

8. ¿Está condenado a la ruina el amor si no sucede con la persona “correcta”?

9. ¿Cree Ud. que Gabriella hizo bien regresar a los Estados Unidos y en dejar a Angel? ¿Qué habría hecho Ud. si hubiera estado
en su posición?

10. ¿Cuál fue la intención final de Helena? ¿Abandonar a Gabriella o despedirse de Juan José por ultima vez?

11. ¿Está sobreestimada la infidelidad? ¿Cree Ud. que las acciones de Helena fueron comprensibles dando las circunstancias?
¿Sabía Marcus de la relación de Helena? Si no sabía de la relación, ¿cree Ud. que la habría perdonado si lo hubiera sabido?

12. ¿Se enamoró Gabriella verdaderamente por primera vez cuando conoció a Angel, o simplemente ella se rebeló contra su familia
porque la familia no fue sincera con ella?

C
elebrated journalist and former concert pianist L
EILA
C
OBO
is the executive director of Latin content and programming for
Billboard
, and is broadly considered the ultimate Latin music insider. Leila is a frequent contributor to NPR and has written liner
notes for acts such as Ricky Martin, Shakira, and Chayanne. She is also the host of the television show
Estudio Billboard,
which features in-depth interviews with top Latin acts.

A native of Cali, Colombia, Leila holds dual degrees in journalism, from Bogota’s Universidad Javeriana, and in piano performance
from the Manhattan School of Music. After graduating, she won a Fulbright Scholarship and obtained her masters degree from
USC’s Annenberg School of Communications. Leila got her start in journalism as a writer for the
Los Angeles Times
and later became the pop music critic for the
Miami Herald
.

Recently named one of Colombia’s most influential women by prestigious magazine
Fuchsia
, Leila is a recipient of the Premio Orquidea Award for international journalism. She lives in Key Biscayne, Florida, with
her husband and with her children.

*
Want to know how author Leila Cobo answered these questions and what inspired her to write the book? Visit
www.leilacobo.com
to find out.

*
¿Quiere Ud. saber como la autora Leila Cobo respondió a estas preguntas y que le inspiró a escribir el libro? Visite
www.leilacobo.com
para descubrirlo.