My mother likesto 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 tohelpyou, 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.
