Falling for Her

by Amy Stephens

  I’d missed her so much, yet it’d only been a couple days. How was I ever going to survive going weeks, possibly months, before I was able to see her again? For all I knew, it could even be a year. I hoped not, but there were rules about me leaving the state of Florida while I was still under the halfway house program.

  Erica crashed into my arms, and I held her tightly, not wanting to let her go. I was going to miss that woman. Knowing my family waited for me, I had to stop her, though. I kissed her one final time before pulling her back toward the elevator.

  “I love you, Erica. Don’t you forget that, okay?” I told her before stepping inside. She hadn’t been able to tell me those words too, and I was okay with that. For now, anyway. Her emotions had said everything about how she felt.

  Without saying anything more, I pressed the button for the lobby, and she pressed the one for the parking garage. It was the right thing to do, going our separate ways. The elevator stopped for me to get off first, and I released her trembling hand. Walking out, I tried to keep a calm, steady face, even though I was close to losing it too. It was hard staying strong.

  “Goodbye,” I choked. I prayed I could regain my composure before joining my family again.

  If only I could have heard her say those three little words. Would it have made a difference?

  The doors closed.

  I walked up behind Ricky and lightly nudged his shoulder. He was the same height as me now, and I realized just how much I’d missed seeing him develop into a fine young man. He had opted not to further his education after he’d graduated high school, and he was proud to say he was a shift manager for a fast food restaurant. He’d been living on his own for a couple years now and hadn’t settled down with anyone yet. He joked about breaking a few girls’ hearts off and on over the years, but nothing serious was going on with anyone. It was obvious he was happy, and I couldn’t wait to reconnect with my brother all over again.

  Isabel still lived at home with the rest of the family, and when she wasn’t working, helped Momma a great deal with Mama Camila. She’d gotten financial aid to go to a nearby community college, but after the first year, she decided it wasn’t for her. I was disappointed she hadn’t made an attempt to go back later on to see if she felt differently about it, but she seemed happy working at a state-funded daycare. The kids were inner-city and thrived on love and attention. Isabel would make some man very happy one day, and with her love for kids, she’d make a great mother too.

  I put my arms around them, and we posed for a picture. I asked a gentleman standing near us if he’d mind taking a family shot, including Momma and Mama Camila, and he graciously accepted. Everyone around us snapped pictures with their phones and digital cameras, but Momma proudly carried her disposable flash camera.

  If my family sensed anything was bothering me, no one said anything. I continued to put on a front, but inside I was already missing Erica, and I regretted not letting them meet her.

  I asked Ricky for the time and winced when he told me. I had ten minutes remaining before I had to report to the bus. Where had the time gone?

  I kneeled in front of Mama Camila and grabbed hold of her hand. Not sure if she really was able to hear me, I told her, “I’ll be home soon. I’m dying to have some of your homemade flan.”

  Even when I’d still been at home, she hadn’t been able to make her famous flan dessert anymore, but she’d passed her recipe on to Momma, who’d done her best to perfect it. Only on special occasions Momma would make it for us. We’d not had many sweets growing up, but when Mama Camila’s flan was placed on the table, not a single drop would be left on the plate. Man, I missed those days.

  I pushed her chair toward the entrance while the family walked along beside us. I wished I could’ve helped load her into Momma’s rental car, but the guard wouldn’t allow it. I was thankful Ricky had come along and drove for them. They were leaving in the morning and should be back in Miami the following evening.

  I hugged everyone goodbye and thanked them all for coming to see me graduate.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I’D BE LYING if I said I wasn’t going to miss prison How could I not miss the place I’d called home for the last several years? Knowing I was hours away from joining the real world again was overwhelming just thinking about it. I was scared and excited.

  Earlier, I’d been called to the head warden’s office to sign my release paperwork. An envelope with my plane ticket and instructions for when I was supposed to report for the halfway program were inside.

  I was given a small carry-on bag for my personal belongings, and I was anxious to get my things packed. It wasn’t much bigger than a plastic grocery bag, but the few items I’d actually accumulated were small in number. With the exception of the outfit my momma had sent me for graduation and a few t-shirts and gym shorts, most everything else had been government issued, and I wasn’t sad to be leaving them behind. I shoved all the letters Momma had sent me over the years into the bag, but the piece of paper that Erica had written all her information on I folded and placed into my back pocket. I didn’t even bother to bring my toothbrush or comb. I had my own opinion of what the government could do with them, but I’d made up my mind nothing was going to ruin that day for me. I’d waited too long for it to get there.

  At noon, me and two other released men walked to the curb and waited for our last ride on the prison bus. My flight was scheduled to take off in an hour, and I was nervous about flying again.

  After I stepped onto the bus, I never bothered to look back. I’d made many memories there, many of which had been good, but I was ready to take this next step toward a better life. I just hoped the one thing I’d had to leave behind would join me again real soon.

  The bus left through the back way, and the driver stopped at the gate to say something to the guard. I stared out the window and couldn’t find a single cloud in the sky. As the bus pulled forward and entered oncoming traffic, I replayed in my mind the last time I’d been with Erica in the library. How had I gotten so fortunate to meet such a sweet, caring young lady? That day had truly been amazing, despite having sworn not to take our relationship to that level yet. I’d wanted to wait, to make it special the way it was meant to be for a man and a woman, but looking back, I was glad we’d connected, after all. That day would forever be instilled in the back of my mind.

  The ride to the airport was short, and I reached down for my bag as soon as the bus came to a halt. I was the last one to get off, and as soon as my feet hit the pavement, I looked up at the crystal clear blue sky again. I wasn’t much of a religious person, especially since I’d questioned why God had allowed me and my family to suffer so much over the years, but I felt some sort of presence there with me. I couldn’t really explain it, but I just felt as if I wasn’t alone.

  I didn’t bother to tell the other two inmates goodbye. I just walked inside the airport.

  As the door shut behind me, I turned back around and stared into the parking lot. I couldn’t get over the feeling I was being watched. I shrugged it off and walked on. I tried to convince myself that guards were a thing of my past now.

  On the plane, I placed my bag into the overhead compartment and settled into my window seat. I forced myself to look out as the plane lifted higher and higher. Once we’d evened out and flew straight, I closed my eyes until the jittery feeling subsided. I was bound for home. I must have drifted off to sleep, because the gentleman sitting next to me nudged my arm, letting me know we were getting ready to land. It was no surprise I’d slept the entire flight. I’d hardly slept at all last night. In fact, it’d been that way for the last few nights, mostly due to nervous excitement.

  Everything else happened so quickly. The only thing I remembered next was seeing my momma’s smiling face and feeling her arms embrace me. I was finally there.

  Home.

  ***

  The cab turned down a road I hadn’t remembered being there before. That part of town had changed dramatically in the t
en years I’d been away, which was no surprise. Momma had wanted to meet me at the airport alone because the family planned something special for me at home. Everyone was super excited I was coming back.

  After a few more turns, the cab pulled up to the driveway of a simple white cottage-style townhouse. I looked at Momma, confused.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  “Welcome home, Jaime. Welcome home,” she said.

  She’d held on to my hand the entire drive from the airport. I hadn’t tried to pull it from her grasp, and I finally understood why she’d held on so tightly. She’d had her own little secret, and was so very anxious to share it with me.

  A month ago, Momma’s dream had come true. She’d finally been able to buy her family a home of their own. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it belonged to her. My family had their first real home. She’d worked her ass off all her life, and now she had something to be proud of.

  Momma had qualified for housing assistance through a government subsidy program for first-time homebuyers. It hadn’t mattered that there were several hundred homes in the neighborhood that all looked the same or that there was hardly a narrow patch of grass separating each house. She didn’t care that each of her neighbors had the exact same floor plan or that everyone had the same style front door. It was home, and I was going to sleep in a regular bed for the first time in ten very long years.

  Momma handed the cab driver a couple crumpled bills, and we got out of the car. The front door opened and a teenage boy came running out.

  “Jaime, Jaime,” he called out.

  The others grouped together just inside the front door and watched as Diego wrapped his arms around me.

  “Diego, little man. I’ve missed you.” I held on to him, not wanting to let him go.

  If anyone noticed I only had the one bag with me, they didn’t say anything. I sat it on the floor just inside the doorway and looked around at the place my family now called home. My gaze immediately went to the couch, and I was relieved to see there was a different one from the one Ricky and I used to sleep on. It was still slightly worn, but I was sure it slept much better than the thin mattress I’d slept on for the last few years.

  Momma noticed me staring at it and quickly added, “Jaime, you’ll sleep in there from now on.” She pointed down the hallway, and I presumed she meant in one of the bedrooms.

  “I’m just glad to be home, Momma.” I didn’t want to worry whether I would sleep on a couch, or a bed, or even the floor. It was just good to be home.

  A little celebration was planned, so the girls set to work in the kitchen. It’d been so long since I’d had a home-cooked meal, I didn’t really care what was prepared. I was certain anything was better than prison food. We sat around the table and listened to everyone talk about what was happening in their daily lives. I was vague with what I shared, and no one inquired anything that was too personal. I’m not sure what Momma had told them prior to my arrival, but when the time was right, I’d come clean with everyone. Right then, it was just good to listen to them go on and on.

  Later in the evening Isabel and Ricky pulled out a rather large box from the hall closet. I sat on the couch and watched as the girls decorated the family Christmas tree. It was the same one we’d all had while growing up, and the memories it held were priceless. Diego didn’t want to leave my side, a rather odd behavior for a teenage boy, and Momma kept looking at me. I wasn’t sure if she thought that maybe she was dreaming and I was only a figment of her imagination. For me, the evening couldn’t be any more real, and if she wanted to watch me, she was free to do so as long as she needed. I was home for good, and no one could take that away from me now.

  I fought the yawns as long as I could. I was mentally and physically exhausted.

  Momma met me in the kitchen while I got a glass of water. “Ricky left some clothes for you in the bedroom. I know they might not fit as well as you’d like them to, but hopefully they’ll work until we can get you something else.”

  I held her in my arms, not able to say anything at the moment. Right then, having clothes was the least of my concerns. As long as they weren’t gray, I really didn’t care.

  Normally, Diego would have the bedroom to himself, but Momma talked him into letting me have the room for a few nights. I felt bad for him having to sleep on the couch, but he truly seemed not to mind.

  I closed the bedroom door behind me and emptied the contents of my bag onto the bed. I placed the few undergarments I’d brought with me in the top drawer of the dresser, then pulled the elastic band from my hair and shook it loose.

  I fumbled through the clothes Momma had mentioned and pulled out a pair of loose-fitting gym shorts. I stripped down, leaving my clothes in a pile on the floor.

  I picked up my bag and the remaining contents and sat them on the chair in the corner. The piece of paper with how to reach Erica sat on top. I opened it up and stared at her pretty handwriting. I smiled as I read over all the different ways she’d written down. The girl hadn’t forgotten a thing, that’s for sure. She was probably worried about me, and I knew I should call just to let her know I’d arrived safely, but for some reason, I couldn’t just yet. More than anything, I’d have loved to hear her voice again, but the thought of hearing her say how much she missed me, how she needed me in her life, wasn’t going to help me. I felt the same way, but there was nothing we could do about it at the moment.

  I folded the piece of paper and placed it inside the drawer. Soon, Erica. Soon. I’ll be in touch. When the time is right.

  Turning out the light, I crawled into bed, and the smell of clean sheets filled my nostrils. It’d been so long since I’d smelled the scent of fabric softener. In prison, it didn’t matter what your belongings were washed in as long as they were clean.

  I closed my eyes and let sleep overcome me.

  I woke the next day with sunshine coming in through the window. I’d almost forgotten how it felt to wake up that way--naturally. Nothing being dragged along the metal prison bars.

  I pulled the covers back and stretched. I’d been so used to sleeping in the fetal position in my tiny twin-size bed, I’d hardly left a mark in the sheets on the other side of the bed. I had no idea what time it was, but with the sunlight being so bright in the room, I knew it was well into the morning, if not later.

  I walked into the kitchen and took in the time on the stove. It was just shy of noon. Momma had left me breakfast on the counter but surprisingly, I wasn’t hungry. I slipped the food container into the refrigerator, not wanting it to go to waste.

  Mama Camila was in the living room in her chair, watching the television. The volume was turned down so low I wondered how she could even hear what was being said. Momma and Isabel were working today, so that meant Diego and Eliana had to be close by.

  She jumped, startled, when I reached down to touch her hand, and I felt bad for apparently waking her. No wonder the volume had been so low. She was even frailer than she’d looked just a few days ago, and I wondered how much longer we’d have her around. I was thankful she’d lived long enough for me to return home.

  Barefoot, I stepped out onto the porch. Back at the prison camp, you never went without shoes. Never. It wasn’t sanitary, nor advisable, even though I’d noticed a few guys who’d taken their chances. Feeling the cement of the porch felt strange on the soles of my feet.

  The porch was tiny with barely room for two cheap plastic chairs. There was some kind of residue left on them, which made me wonder how long it’d been since someone had sat in them. A single potted fern hung above the railing. For the first time, it really did feel like home.

  I leaned against one of the posts and glanced around the neighborhood. I noticed a few cars parked in some of the driveways while others sat empty. Momma said many people still resorted to using the tram and bus since traffic had gotten so out of control over the years. As long as work, the grocery store, and other necessities were close by, she would probably never own a vehicle. Why bother with th
e expense of one when she’d made do just fine without for this long.

  She still made her daily walk to the hotel and used that time to clear her mind. I was proud of her for finally fulfilling one of her dreams—to be a homeowner. Last night she’d briefly spoken about it, and I couldn’t believe she’d been able to make everything work. Of course, her approval was based on the size of our family and the income, but she was thankful to finally have her family in a real home instead of a tiny apartment like we’d lived in most of our lives.

  The thought crossed my mind if my coming there would impact how much Momma would have to pay each month, especially when I got my own job. She hadn’t mentioned anything, probably because she hadn’t wanted me to worry.

  Still, it wasn’t something I wanted to ignore.

  A vehicle turned down the street, and I soon realized it was the postman. He stopped at each of the mailboxes, dropping off mail before quickly accelerating to the next box. Erica popped into my mind again. I thought about writing her a brief message since I hadn’t felt like making the phone call to her yet, just so she wouldn’t be worried.

  I felt a sharp pain in my chest, and the pressure increased the more I thought about her. I just wasn’t ready.

  I turned and headed back inside to see if anyone needed help with anything. It seemed the best thing for me was getting my mind off her.

  Chapter Eighteen

  THE NEXT COUPLE DAYS went by in a blur. We all pitched in and helped with the Christmas meal that Momma had been planning for a while now. After we’d finished eating and I’d helped Isabel tidy up the kitchen, we all grouped together in the living room. It was hard to believe the kids weren’t kids anymore, and Christmas now had a whole new meaning to it. The hardest part of all had been the holidays for me while I’d been gone.