But I knew that life would never be good enough for Tressa.
I would never allow it to be.
Taking the easy road wasn’t something I was interested in as much as I might have been four years ago. Our lives had changed, motivations altered, souls shifted into a new gear. My priorities were different now; that was the unavoidable truth.
The fact that, overall, this tradition had burned more than redeemed both of us was an unavoidable truth too.
“Mamá!” Santiago sang, pulling me into the present moment. “Look what I found fromPapi!”
Tressa’s gaze flew to mine, the knowledge that Santiago knew Padre Juan was his father rocking both of us more than a little bit.
Carmelita rounded the table, taking the small tin can filled to the brim with old, hand-rolled cigar stubs and an empty bottle of rum from the little boy’s hands.
A soft smile lit her cheeks as she shook her head. “Ah,mi padre.”
Tears brimmed so heavily, she set both items down on the table and rushed from the room, soft rag drying the edges of her eyes as she went.
Santiago shrugged, smiling brightly at us before turning on his heel and hustling out the door, little dog hot behind him.
“Kids are the best,” Tressa whispered, eyes hovering on the bright yellow door he’d left swinging in his wake.
My own eyes shifted to the can of cigar stubs, an idea dawning. “If you had a question about your paternity,” I said the next words, unsure of how they’d land, “I think now would be the time to take action.”
Tressa’s gaze followed mine down to the tin, realization lighting her dark irises. “I should take one.”
I nodded, swiping a napkin from the table and waiting.
She sucked her lips between her teeth, working her fingers back and forth before quickly plucking one of the charred stubs from the tin and plopping it on the napkin. I rolled it gently and tucked it into the pocket of my jacket.
“That could answer a lot of questions,” she murmured.
“It could generate a lot of them too.”
She hummed, standing with the now softly sleeping baby in her arms. She walked the chubby baby across the room and nestled it in a pile of hand-woven afghans on the old couch. Carmelita breezed back into the room then, face fresh as ever, smile stretching both cheeks.
“Sit, sit, sweetheart. That tea needs a few more minutes for full effect.” She waved Tressa back to the kitchen.
“No, no, thank you. I’m not feeling so well. I think I just need to go to bed early tonight.”
“Ah.” Carmelita’s eyes burned up the space with mischief. “I like this plan. A lot of late nights in bed, huh?”
A blush the shade of the bougainvillea outside bloomed on my dove’s cheeks.
“Perhaps my tea is a little too late and already we’re expecting a new little one in the Santa Mariafamilia?” Carmelita’s grin stretched the expanse of her cheeks, glancing from me to Tressa then down to the sleeping baby on the couch.
“No!” Tressa shook her head quickly, backing toward that yellow door as fast as she could politely manage. “Thank you again. I’ll come back soon. I just…I need a minute.”
I stood from my seat at the table, meeting Carmelita at the front door and placing a gentle kiss on the side of her cheek.
Carmelita’s hands held my shoulders, soul shining like star fire in her eyes. “I want the best for you, Padre, but you can’t keep a girl like that chained. She was born to fly.”
I nodded, warmth radiating from the old woman straight into my soul. “I know, Ms. Carmelita.” I couldn’t fight the contented smile that tipped my lips. “And I’ve found everything I need alongside her.”
Carmelita tapped my cheek, smile softening. “Good. Then go do it differently.”
