My mother sat back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest and sniffing. She turned her head, looking at any and everything but me.
“You really like her, then?” she asked after stewing for a minute.
“Yes,” I answered. “Ireallylike her. And I want her to be happy while she is here. She is a really nice, thoughtful, supportive person. You would know that if you actually gave her a chance, Mamá. Cat likes her, and you know she will find a reason to hate anyone. I am sure you can learn to like Octavia too.”
My mother pursed her lips, but I did not miss the way the rest of her face softened.
“Well ...” Finally, she focused on me again. “That is all you had to say. I will try to be nicer to her from now on.”
“Not try.Will.Okay?”
She tutted. “Fine. Iwill.”
I smiled. “Gracias.”
Pushing out of the chair, she said, “Eat.” She returned to the house while I glanced at the food on the tray. Eggs over easy, Argentinean sausage, and tortillas with a side of salsa verde.
This was one of my favorite meals ... but I could not find it in me to bother eating. Instead, I picked up the coffee and drank it, allowing the warmth to soothe a tiny bit of me.
When I was finally ready to go in the house, I brought the tray with me and placed it on the kitchen counter. As I did, I heard the front door close.
Catalina stepped around the corner seconds later, her face sweaty and a little pink. Her hair was in a dark ponytail, a white headband on her head. She wore leggings and a sports bra.
“Went for a run?” I asked.
“Yes.” She lifted a hand, holding up a single piece of mail. “I think this is it, Javi.”
My pulse clogged my ears as she approached me. My mother popped off the sofa and scurried in our direction. Cat started to hand me the envelope, but I held up a hand, walking around the counter and sitting on one of the stools.
“I ... I cannot open that,” I mumbled.
“Do you want me to?” Cat asked.
I nodded my head, glaring at the floor.
My sister drew in a deep breath and started to open it. Only the sound of crinkling paper filled the dreadful silence. After it was open, she cleared her throat. I looked up as she removed a single sheet of paper from the envelope, unfolded it, and began to read.
She looked at me with watery eyes and did not have to utter a single word for me to know the truth.
“Oh, Javi,” she whimpered.
“¿Qué?” My mother snatched the paper out of Cat’s hands and scanned it rapidly. Then she yelled, “No! Oh no!”
Her cry was loud, striking at every nerve in my body. I climbed off the stool and caught my mother as she started to buckle. I was not sure why this feeling of numbness had rinsed over me. I tried to blink, to let the feelings take root, but my body refused.
“Hijo, no,” she whined. “No. Not this.”
“It is okay.” I held my mother when she threw her arms around me. Then I looked at Cat, who had tears skidding down both her cheeks. I opened one of my arms so she could step in, but she waved a hand before bolting out of the kitchen.
Cat was never really big on showing her emotions, so I held my mother instead. Because not only did she need me, but I also neededher. I guided her to the sofa so she could sit again, then I returned to the kitchen, spotting that single sheet of paper on the floor.
It was shocking how one little piece of paper could change your whole life. This one little thing was going to leave a stain in my memories.
I stared at the paper for a while, debating with myself if I actually wanted to see the results. What did it matter if Rafael was the biological father? I was the one who was there for Aleesa. She only knew me as her dad. That would change nothing in that regard. All it would do was hurt to see it.
And yet ... it still mattered somehow. It mattered to know the truth—to face it head-on.
Bending over, I snatched up the paper and blinked quickly to clear the blurriness in my eyes.
