I recoil at his use of the word ‘Mom.’ Again, he used it to identify the woman who raised Emma and me but abandoned her firstborn—our brother. He has gone through great lengths to be there for us and keep us safe. A boy who grew up into a man without a family of his own. His whole life, he lived with the feeling that no one wanted him.
My heart hurts for the boy he was and the man he has become because he did it alone. He might have had our uncle and cousin to talk to, but then he was sent away to boardingschool. I could see how hurt he was when he found out Ramón was his grandfather. He had someone around who pretended to be his friend. Someone who wanted to spend time with him but got to know him through false pretenses. Who knows what is real anymore with all the lies our mother kept from us?
I frown, turning my attention back to the letter sitting there mockingly.
“Are you going to read it?” I ask, picking up the letter but not wanting to open it. I feel that Mom wanted him to read it first and then maybe share it with the rest of us. He should read it.
“I don’t know if I want to open it.” He takes the envelope from me, twirling it in his hand.
“We could burn it?” I arch an eyebrow upward, and Emma snorts.
“Yeah. That seems to be a common theme with us these days. Can we stay away from the fire for a bit?” She looks wearily at Eduardo for comfort. He kisses her forehead, and she beams at him approvingly.
“I’m just kidding.” I roll my eyes at their seriousness when I was just trying to make light of a depressing situation. “Well, mostly kidding, but you know, bro, if you don’t read it, you’ll never know what she had to say. You can’t ask her. She’s dead. These may be the last words you get.”
Emma snorts. “Way to be sensitive about it, Eves.” She points to the letter, and Mateo picks it up and surprises us by opening it.
He begins to read it aloud—no hesitation—before he can back out.
My Dearest Son,
If you are reading this, things didn’t turn out as planned.
If you are reading this, you probably hate me because I never had the chance to change the events in my life.
If you are reading this, at least I know that you are alive and my death was worth it.
When you were born, it was the best day of my life. The nurse handed you to me, and
you grabbed onto my finger as I held onto you. I never wanted to let you go. I never sent you to the nursery while I was there. I didn’t want to because I secretly knew. I knew those precious moments with you might be the only ones I was offered in this life.
I had you all to myself for nine months before I had to let you go. The day I brought you home, my brother told me what I must do. I begged for one more day with you.
If he found out about you, he would have held you over me forever and kept me because he knew I could never leave you. You would never be free. He would have molded you into what he wanted, much like how his other son turned out. You wouldn’t have been the kind man who takes care of his sisters and follows them around, protecting them from the evils of this world.
The day that I returned to Brownsville, married with twins, he lost it. He always had the suspicion you existed. I confided in Ramón when I learned about the pregnancy, and he promised to find you one day if something happened to me and give this to you. He promised to be the family that you deserve, and I hope you find the love you deserve because, my sweet boy, you are worthy of ALL the love. Maybe one day, if you have children of your own, you will understand the love I gave up so that you could find yours.
Love Always,
Mom
The room is quiet, and there isn’t a dry eye in the kitchen amongst us. I walk over to my brother and hug him. “I don’t know what Mom was thinking, Mattie, but I know that whatever she did, she thought she was doing what was best. I have to believe that.”
Emma strides over and embraces our brother from the other side. “I love you, and am so thankful you are in my life. I may disagree with what Mom did, but if Mr. Martinez was anything like his son, Julian, then I can understand some of the abuse she underwent to have to make the difficult decisions to keep you away from that toxicity. I’d rather die than be married to Julian.”
Mateo nods, taking it all in. “I can’t imagine what would have happened, but I can’t dwell on this anymore. This letter proves that in her own mind, she was validated in abandoning me. I’m so tired of living in the past. I want to put this all behind meand live in the present. I want to forgive and live for my future. I know what we have to do.”
Arriving at the cemetery after visiting the liquor store and supermarket, we loaded up on all our favorite food and beverages. We followed each other in two vehicles, along with Phil, Eli, and Gus, who insisted on coming with us. We aren’t entirely used to not having to watch our back because there is always a threat in this line of business. You learn to look over your shoulder and anticipate the unexpected, if that makes sense. Clear as mud, my father would say.
Last heard from Santi, he took his daughter to get some much-needed counseling to help her heal. He told us everything had been handled and not to worry.
After this weekend, we will be returning to Houston and to the lives we were living before this final act. What we are looking forward to the most is our future—being united and spending time with our family.
We unload the SUVs and bring out the table, chairs, and food. We get everything set up, and much like in our celebrations in Día de los Muertos, we have a brief reunion with our deceased relatives where they are forever laid to rest.
We all sit around drinking and getting to know one another. Emma and I told stories about growing up—our family traditions. We compared stories of being in Mexico with our uncle. We learned so much about our brother. What it was like growing up for him. It seems that he had a good life, and that after our grandparents weren’t around to, our Uncle Andrés and tía gave him the love he needed growing up. They wanted him to learn the way of their world, so they sent him off to boardingschool, which was more of a military-type training. He would be prepared to become one of my uncle’s soldiers when he returned.
Our uncle told him about us and little did we know that he would have him be our protector as well. If he hadn’t been there to save us all those years ago, we might not have fully recovered from that kind of mindfuck trauma that happens with abuse and assault.
