“Don’t move,” Ray said as he shut off the engine. He got out and came around to open her door to assist her out.
She smiled. He was still the gentleman she remembered, and that’s why she’d found herself so taken with him. That and because he was a pre-med student at Columbia University who was studying to become a doctor. She worked at a hospital kitchen, hoping to become a dietitian, and she was in awe of the doctors in their white coats treating patients and giving orders to nurses and members of hospital staff as if they were royalty and expected to be obeyed without question. Migdalia couldn’t believe that she’d fallen in love with Ramon, and one day she would be a doctor’s wife and the mother of his children.
But her fantasy world imploded when she discovered her period was late, despite Ramon using a condom. At first, she believed her cycle was off, but after not seeing her period for two months, she went to the hospital lab for a pregnancy test. When it came back positive, she panicked. She hadn’t slept with Hector since he’d been incarcerated, and there was no way she could pass the baby off as his, and she was forced to tell Ramon that she was having his baby.
She walked back up the block to her building, waiting for Ramon to open the door to the lobby. Reaching into the pocket of her coat, she took out a set of keys and unlocked the door leading into the vestibule. It had taken her a while to rent a two-bedroom apartment in a building on a clean tree-lined street in upper Manhattan.
“This is a nice building,” Ray said.
“It will stay nice until the drug dealers decide to use it as a place where they can stash their drugs,” Migdalia said over her shoulder as she led the way to her first-floor apartment.
Ray removed his hat and ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. “Drugs have become a plague in this country.”
She unlocked the door and pushed it open. “A plague that’s so out of control, it’s impossible to eradicate despite First Lady Nancy Reagan’s ‘Just say no’ campaign. She would’ve made more of an impact if she said to dealers and traffickers that they are going to jail for life without parole if they get caught selling or bringing drugs into this country.”
Ray hung up his hat and coat alongside Migdalia’s on a tree stand in a corner near the door. “Not even stiff prison sentences are enough to deter those bent on amassing enormous fortunes from products that destroy lives.”
Migdalia turned to look at him. “Are you an advocate for the death penalty?”
“You should know better than to ask me that.”
“Is it because you’re a Catholic priest and don’t believe in the death penalty?”
“It has nothing to do with religion, Micky. I don’t believe any man has the right to take another man’s life, regardless of the crime. And yes, life mandatory sentences may work, but it’s not a cure-all in this country.”
“Where would they work?” she asked, glancing at him over her shoulder as they walked down a hallway into the living room.
“In countries where the culture is based on a religion.”
“But those religions are usually extremely inhibiting.”
Ray waited for Migdalia to sit on a sofa before he took a matching armchair, looping one leg over the opposite knee. The living room furnishings weren’t fancy, but functional. He noticed that everything was in its proper place, like arranged pieces in furniture showrooms. “Not to someone who grows up in the culture. What we may find inhibiting, they would see as encouraging social behavior that will eventually corrupt a society.”
“Give me an example, Ramon.”
“We’re hypocritical when it comes to the human body. We visit museums and stare at statues of the naked body that are considered priceless masterpieces, but our puritanical biases blur the lines between art and pornography. Hollywood has placed ratings on movies shown in conventional movie theaters, while untold millions are made selling porn flicks in seedy neighborhoods all over the country.”
Migdalia kicked off her shoes and pulled her legs up on the sofa. “You don’t talk like a priest.”
“How is a priest supposed to talk?” he asked.
“Not about pornographic movies.”
“Why? Because depicting lovemaking on the screen is dirty and sinful?” Ray realized what he was saying had shocked Migdalia because she wasn’t thinking of him as a man, but a priest.
Her eyelids fluttered wildly. “I don’t know how to answer that.”
“I can, because it is a discussion I have with a lot of people who come to me for counseling. And it is the same discussion I had with another priest before I finally made the decision to join the seminary.”
Ray knew he’d shocked his son’s mother once he revealed he had an addiction. Not to drugs, but sex. That it had nearly taken over his life, and if he’d been able to control his carnal urges, he never would’ve slept with her.
Staring at her under lowered lids, he continued, “You were the only girl I met that I wished I hadn’t slept with because I wanted to save you for marriage.”
“Are you saying we wouldn’t have made love until our wedding night?”
He nodded, smiling. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. There are some women men sleep with and others they don’t until they’re married. You fell into the latter category.”
“Why me, Ramon?”
