Her hand flies to her chest. “I can’t imagine what your family went through.”
“To me and Liv, Brady will always be our brother.”
I fill her in on the rest of the lies my mother and my father perpetrated to launch my mother’s career, including how my mother’s secrets eventually backed her into a corner so full of lies the only choice she had was prison or death, so she killed herself in one final act of control, and how my father is serving the sentence for both of them.
“My life has been one big lie, a giant secret. Trust me, nothing good will come out of what you’re hiding.”
She shakes her head frantically. “I want to tell you, but I’m afraid.”
“Don’t be, please. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“It’s you I’m afraid will hurt me. I’m afraid you won’t want to be with me anymore, and the thought of that happening hurts.”
The mounting pressure in my chest forces me to breathe. It’s too soon to put this kind of stress on her. I haven’t offered a firm commitment to her. She has fears also, and they appear to be rooted much more deeply than mine.
“My mother was a murderer, so nothing you can tell me will shock me, or make me think differently of you, but I understand why you’re worried. I can give you more time. I’m sorry for pushing.”
“You don’t have to be sorry.”
“I do. I haven’t told you how much I want this to work. I want you and Javier in my life for the long haul. I can’t imagine a life you’re not a part of, so yes, I’ll give you some time. I’ll prove my commitment to you is honest, and then I hope you’ll share your past with me.”
Her eyes gloss with tears, and she whispers a thank-you. I bring her head to my lap and stroke her hair, feeling a strong need to protect her and her family from whatever haunts her.
“I’m going to keep you and Javier safe.”
“Then don’t ask me to share my past with you.”
“I won’t. I’ll wait until you want to tell me.”
O
ver breakfast, Franco seems like a new man, fully rejuvenated overnight. He calls me by name and seems completely coherent. Veronica helps him from the table to his favorite chair. Once everyone is dressed for the day, I ask Maria if she and Javier would like to go to the Center with me. I haven’t been in while, and I’d like to show her the work Brady and I have put into restoring the place and making it a welcoming spot for the kids who call the Center home. It’s one of the few things in my life I’m proud of, and I want to share it with her.
T
ug holds my and Javier’s hands as we climb the steps to the Center. My stomach rolls as I remember the building well, although the facility is much larger and cleaner than it was when I was here nearly four years ago. I never went inside, but I sat in my car and stared at the building for close to an hour as rain pounded on the front window. It rains so rarely here, I actually considered it a sign, though a sign in favor or against I never did figure out. Javier was asleep in his car seat, and I wailed into the steering wheel, pondering the decision to give up my pride and joy. The doctors had just informed me that Papa’s condition was deteriorating. I had two dollars to my name. Payday was a week away and already spent. Javier woke and said, “Mama, we go inside?”
His voice, wrapped in so much innocence about what awaited him “inside,” made following through impossible. I could never give up the purest part of me, the one ray of sunshine in my otherwise dark existence. The decision to keep him was selfish, but I needed him to survive, to get up each morning. To this day, I question if I made the right choice.
“Are you okay?” Tug asks me softly.
I nod, and we go inside. A Hispanic man who appears to be in his thirties greets us. He’s casual in shorts and a T-shirt. He and Tug exchange bro hugs, and Tug introduces me to Rodrigo.
“Rodrigo is responsible for all of this,” Tug says, motioning with his hand.
“He’s modest,” Rodrigo says. “I started the Center, but Tug and Brady are responsible for
all of this
.”
Tug, modest? I almost choke.
A boy and a girl storm through the back door and run to Tug. He lifts the little girl in his arms and spins her around. The little boy with a thick head of black hair peeks up at me from behind Tug’s leg. He’s roughly Javier’s age and heart-meltingly cute. Tug sets the girl down and says, “Maria, I’d like to introduce you to trouble.”
They both giggle. “I’m not trouble, but she is,” the boy jokes, jerking a thumb at the little girl with long dark pig-tails. I notice the resemblance and figure they’re brother and sister.
The little girl whines, “Hey, I’m not trouble.”
Javier watches the two of them with curiosity.
“Say hello, Javier,” I instruct him.
He lifts his hand. “Hello.”
“What’s your name?” the little boy asks. Javier tells him. “I’m Paco, and this is my annoying little sister, Camilia.” Javier smiles. “You want to come outside and play with us?”
Javier glances up at me and asks, “Can I?”
I nod, and the three of them run out the back door.
“Rodrigo does good work here,” Tug says, gripping Rodrigo on the shoulder.
“Ah, I try.” Rodrigo waves a hand. “It’s getting harder and harder. So many orphaned babies in Mexico, thanks to the growing cartels.”
I whip my head around to Rodrigo, shock probably evident on my face. “These children lost their parents because of the cartels?”
“
Sí, senorita
. The cartels offer quick cash to families. It seems like a smart decision when you’re poor and hungry, but people are disposable in the cartel’s eyes.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, terrified for Javier’s fate if his father ever finds me. Who would take care of him? Would he wind up here after all? “And the kids end up here with you, waiting for a family?”
“Some.” His expression turns grave. “If they’re not sold into the human trafficking market to settle a family debt, or put to work in the marijuana fields. The ones I get are fortunate, but most of them will spend their lives here.”
“It’s so sad.”
“It is, but … you see that building?” Rodrigo points to a building in the back of the soccer field. I nod. “It’s a state-of-the-art school. Every one of these kids will graduate high school, thanks to this guy,” he says, and punches Tug in the arm. “And his brother.”
“It’s very kind.”
“The Hunter brothers are two of the most genuine and kind men I know,” Rodrigo says, beaming with pride.
Yes, they are
, I think, remembering how much Brady helped me in the past and Tug hiring the nurse for my papa. Not all hearts are the same size, and the Hunter brothers’ are huge.
“Come on,” Tug says. “I’ll show you around.”
We go out back to a wide-open courtyard surrounded by buildings. There’s a soccer field and a basketball court and far too many children.
“Where do they all sleep?”
Tug points to two large buildings. “Those are the barracks. We had them built last year. Before that, they slept in the building we entered, in rows and rows of cots.”
The sadness I feel takes over, and I feel wetness in my eyes, but I don’t cry.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
I sit at a picnic table, my gaze sweeping over the compound, which is essentially nothing more than a children’s prison, the children sentenced to a life here by their parents’ desperate choices.
Tug sits next to me, his hand massaging my back. I turn my head to look at him. “I almost dropped Javier off here. He was barely two.”
“Oh, sweet girl. I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have brought you here.”
“No, it’s okay.” I laugh awkwardly. “It’s stupid. I was desperate, and I thought his life was so rough that he’d be better off without me. The kids here want their parents and wouldn’t care if their life was rough if they could still have them. That’s irony.”
“You’re a good mom, Maria.”
“I want to be, but I haven’t tried hard enough.”
“You do the best you can.” He tries to reassure me, and I appreciate it, even if I can’t agree with him.
I stay quiet, uncertain what else to say. It was never my intention, but I’ve failed my son, and I won’t let that happen again.
W
e stay at the Center for the remainder of the day. Maria is distant, her interactions forced. Bringing her to the Center might have been a huge mistake. Before we leave, I promise Camilia and Paco I’ll bring Javier back to visit soon. They whine as they always do when I leave.
The sun sets behind the thick marine layer as we drive. Javier is asleep before we leave the parking lot. Maria is quiet for most of the drive back to her apartment. I know she’s thinking about the mistakes she’s made in her life. I also know how her worries will wreak havoc on her future if she doesn’t let go of them.
“Stay at my place,” I say, intentionally interrupting her thoughts.
“Javier has school, Papa has a doctor’s appointment, and I have to be to work by eleven.”
“So I’ll bring you home in the morning. You can take Franco to the doctor, and I’ll drop off Javier at school.”
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
Her loud sigh is marked with irritation, and I honestly have no idea what I did. “Handle everything so you can get what you want.”
“I’m not sure I understand what you’re implying.”
“You’re like a two-year-old, but instead of throwing a tantrum to get your way, you throw money and power at it.”
I bite down hard on my tongue. She’s intentionally starting an argument, and I don’t want to say anything I’ll regret. My body shakes with anger, and I pull over to the side of the road.
“So what if I’m a two-year-old with resources?” The smile she tries to hide shows through her clenched jaw. “Don’t pick a fight, please. I know today was hard on you. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you by taking you there.”
“What was your intention? There’s so much sadness there. How can you stand it?”
“I think that depends on how you look at it.”
“And you’re insinuating that I’m a pessimist. I swear if you say the glass is half full, I’m jumping out of this car.”
I throw my head back and laugh, which makes her laugh also. “We’re all pessimists, sweet girl. The Center is important to our family. Brady always knew he was unwanted. When he found the Center, it was his chance to help other kids feel loved. After my mother’s suicide, it was a place for all of us to escape the press, but being there with those kids healed us. I’d spend every dime I had to make those kids happy, and give them an education.”