Coffee and Conclusions

by Emma Sterner-Radley

  “Jesus, if I could tell you everything I could do wrong, I could just make sure I never did that. I don’t know, that’s kinda the point.”

  In a soft voice, Isabella answered, “I see. And you believe that this is a unique situation for you?”

  Erin looked at her, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  It was the saddest smile Erin had seen in a long while. “I’m trying to be respectful and let you figure out something for yourself, but as it isn’t working, I’ll spell it out for you, preciosa. All adults can be bad role models or say the wrong thing and influence a child. I had two parents who loved me when I grew up. But one of them was always toxic and the other tended to fade into the background. My mother said and did many things that shaped me for the worse, and I doubt she ever gave it a thought.”

  Erin frowned, unsure of where this was going. “Okay?”

  “The fact that you are aware of how much everyday things can influence a child and that you worry about it, makes you a better candidate to be around children than most. There are no guarantees as to what will stick in a child’s mind. You might make a joke about their nose, and they laugh and forget all about it, or they start worrying their nose is too big and develop an issue with their appearance.” Isabella rubbed Erin’s upper arm and smiled a little. “You can’t let that hold you back, because if we all did that, no one would ever dare talk to kids. All you can do is act like a decent human being and try to keep communication open with them. That way, if something you’ve said or done bothered them, they’ll come to you and talk about it. If they’re even aware of it, that is. If not, there isn’t really anything you can do until the problem surfaces.”

  “Your presence will influence Alberto. That’s what happens when you’re around a child. However, have I ever given you the impression that I wouldn’t do whatever it took to give Alberto everything he could ever want or need?”

  “No.” Erin shook her head vigorously. “Definitely not. I mean you were even trying to stay in a loveless relationship just to give him a dad.”

  “There you go. Now, I’ve found a person who is unique; so genuine, so interesting, passionate, funny, and so caring. I found you. And I wouldn’t have let you be part of my son’s life unless I thought you would improve it. Unless I thought you’d be a good, stable role model for him.”

  A lump was forming in Erin’s throat. “What if I screw him up?”

  Isabella sighed and looked at her son. “Well, something screws everyone up at some point. If the most dangerous thing in his formative years is you…then he will truly have had a blessed childhood. Anyone would be lucky to have you in their life.”

  They were silent for a while, both looking at Alberto. Isabella’s hand was still on Erin’s upper arm, rubbing gently. Erin’s mind filled with thoughts and the lump in her throat felt like it might suffocate her soon.

  “Do you really mean that?” Erin asked quietly, not able to meet Isabella’s gaze.

  “With all my heart, preciosa.”

  Erin swallowed. She wanted—needed—to be everything Isabella and Alberto could ever want. But was the desire to do well enough? Was it that simple? “Do you…do you think that this is something I should talk to a therapist about?” Erin asked.

  Isabella looked over at her, sympathetic brown eyes meeting Erin’s unsure glance. “It’s more important what you think, preciosa. But, yes, if you are going to see someone about your insomnia then you can certainly talk to them about your worries about Alberto as well. I don’t think worrying about raising a child correctly is something you need therapy for, but if it helps you, then why not? Is that what you want?”

  Erin looked at the boy on the changing table. He had a grip on his feet and was looking at his fat little toes. He looked so perfect and so vulnerable.

  The urge to protect him surged within her. She had to make sure he got the best upbringing anyone could possibly get. She couldn’t give him that now. She was sure of that. But maybe if she learned more about herself and what she could improve, then…maybe…she could give him everything she never got.

  She wanted to try. She had to. She wanted to help raise Alberto. No matter how terrified and unprepared she felt. Was this how Isabella felt when she found out she was pregnant?

  “Do you really think I can do it?” Erin asked in a small voice.

  “I’m certain. You’ve got so much love to give, so much experience to impart. Alberto is lucky to have you in his life. We’ll both make mistakes, Erin, but if we’re both in his life, then we can counteract each other’s mistakes and talk to him about any slipups. We’ll be a team. I’m sorry to ask you to be part of that team, even though you don’t feel ready, but I’m afraid me and Alberto come as a package deal.”

  Erin’s head snapped back to Isabella. “Oh God, don’t think for a second that I wish you didn’t have him. Seeing you as a mother made me fall for you all the harder, and he’s amazing. I want Alberto in my life, even if he pees on me. I just want to be something positive in his life, not negative.”

  “As long as you want to care for him and protect him, it will be.”

  Isabella’s reassurances made the idea a lot for Erin to take in. “I think I want to talk to a shrink about this,” she said. “I want to be the best I can be, for all of us. I want to be ready to help him along at every stage of his life.”

  Isabella chuckled with eyes that glittered. “There you go again. Planning for a lifetime with us. And you still believe you haven’t made a long-term commitment.”

  The teasing had its desired effect, Erin’s shoulders relaxed a bit, and she stuck her tongue out at Isabella, who laughed. And her low, melodic laugh set Alberto off laughing as well.

  Erin tried for her most charming smile. “All right, so maybe I’m rushing ahead in this relationship too. Are you complaining, doll?”

  “Not about you unconsciously making commitments, but perhaps about being called doll.” Isabella smacked Erin’s arm playfully.

  Erin grimaced at her slipup. “Ah, sorry. Does it help if I say that you’re as beautiful as a doll?”

  Isabella quirked an eyebrow at her, picked Alberto up, and left the room while muttering, “I hope you’re referring to children’s dolls and not the adult kind.”

  Erin stood locked in place, trying to figure out what Isabella had meant. When she got it, she gasped loudly.

  “Wow. That took an embarrassingly long time to sink in, featherbrain,” Isabella called back from the other room.

  “Featherbrain? Oh, I’m gonna get you for that, Martinez.”

  And she knew just how. She went out to find Isabella and tickle that sensitive spot just under her ribs.

  By the time it was Alberto’s last feeding of the day and his bedtime, it was time for Erin to look for a train home. She wished she didn’t have to go, but she had work in the morning. And considering how long it took for her to get to sleep, she needed to be back in New York at a decent hour.

  Isabella sat on the sofa with Alberto and unbuttoned her shirt. Without a word, Erin sat next to her. Alberto reached out, and Erin guided a handful of hair into his little fist.

  “He lies still more when you let him play with your hair,” Isabella said with what sounded like gratitude.

  Erin looked at the chubby baby hand squeezing and toying with her hair. She noticed the little dimples where knuckles should be and smiled. She was helping. She was actually helping.

  Gently touching the small hand, that strange feeling of pride and belonging filled her, as it had when she first offered to let him play with her hair. She was serving a purpose in their little unit.

  How could something as innocuous as her hair grant her this lovely feeling? So many times, she’d cursed her own vanity in keeping it so long. It would be so much easier to cut it short, just put in some gel and go. But her long hair was part of who she was, and it had always been her pr
ide and joy. Now, entertaining a baby with that hair was her new pride and joy.

  She looked up at Isabella and quietly said, “Tonight, before I go, could we look for a shrink together? I want to deal with my issues. I can’t hide from them forever.”

  Isabella smiled at her, a smile so warm and clearly smitten that Erin’s heart leapt in her chest.

  “Whatever you need, my love. Who knows? If you find someone who can help you, perhaps I’ll talk to them about my defense mechanisms.”

  “What? You mean the moodiness and all the insults are defense mechanisms? I never would’ve guessed!” Erin said, faking shock.

  Isabella glared at her. “Careful, I could always put the baby down and get you.”

  Erin smirked. “Yeah. You know, that doesn’t sound like such a threat, my fierce lioness.”

  Isabella made a growling noise, sounding just like a lion, and Erin tried to keep from laughing too loud and spooking Alberto.

  Chapter 27

  Galvanizing

  It was late afternoon, and Isabella was writing. With the exception of a short walk to the mailbox to post the letter to her father, she’d written like a machine all day. She was surprisingly happy with it and felt a little twinkle of belief in what she’d created.

  Blowing out a long-held breath, she put a period after the final paragraph of the epilogue and sat back in her chair. She briefly considered starting the second draft, rewriting and editing her finished material right away. But decided she was too mentally exhausted and giddy to start on the next batch of hard graft right away.

  Instead, she opened the top drawer in her desk and got out a thick folder marked writing. Inside was a business card, thumbed to the point where the print was almost worn off. It didn’t matter. Isabella knew the name. And she knew how to contact him.

  Santiago Gomez. One of her father’s best friends. She hadn’t thought about him since that first morning in Philadelphia when she berated her father for eating too many churros at his house every Sunday.

  She’d once asked for his business card and had kept it in the folder for many years, only taking it out to hold and think about using it when her writing had been going particularly well. Santiago was a publishing agent. He worked with writers, represented them, and made sure their books got published.

  Having had the backing of her parents’ well-known name and the family fortune to fall back on, Isabella had built a career in the catering business with confidence. However, the talk of nepotism had always been a burr in her side.

  Contacting Santiago, letting him know that she had finished the book she’d been talking about for years, would that end up the same way? Would she ever feel like she’d achieved what she had without the help of the Martinez name? She’d worried about that since he’d given her his card.

  She sighed, as she stared at the damn thing and accepted she’d just have to live with it. Finding an agent who believed in your book was extraordinarily hard, and if this was a chance to get some help with that, she’d be a fool to say no. Isabella Martinez was many things, but a fool was not one of them. She placed the battered card by her phone and was just about to put the folder away when the doorbell chimed.

  Isabella quickly looked over at the sleeping Alberto in his baby bouncer. She breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t woken up. She hurried to the door, assuming the person ringing was a neighbor, as the outside intercom hadn’t buzzed.

  She wasn’t that lucky.

  “Mother?”

  “Hello, Isabella. May I come in?”

  Isabella scowled. “Preferably not. But as you have somehow gotten this far, I can’t say no, can I?”

  She stepped aside, and Judith walked in. “One of your neighbors let me in as he was leaving.”

  “Ah, that explains it. I just assumed you used some form of black magic.”

  Judith glared at her. “I know you are upset, dear. Nevertheless, there is no reason to call me a witch.”

  “If the pointy shoe fits,” Isabella muttered.

  Judith sighed, as if Isabella was merely a petulant child who disappointed her. “I admit I might have been a bit…hasty…in our last conversation. I was furious because you have, once again, shut me out of your life when you needed me the most.”

  “I did not shut you out.” Isabella scoffed at the idea. “I didn’t tell you about my private life, because you have shown, time and time again, that you do nothing but judge and try to meddle. I always planned to tell you. Frankly, I would have done so sooner, if I hadn’t known it would end in disaster.”

  “This is hardly a disaster. A disaster would be you entering into another relationship like the one you had with the scruffy nature buff.”

  “Richard. His name is Richard, and he does important work helping to conserve our nature reserves. You just never liked his profession because you don’t understand it. Oh, and because it didn’t give him the prestige and salary you feel is so goddamn important.”

  “Calm down, dear. I’m certain it is an important job, but hardly one for a real man. Just like that…” Judith pointed to the folder marked writing which lay on the table, “is a nice pastime while you are at home with your child but not full-time employment for a family of logical, strategic minds like the Martinezes.”

  Isabella felt an icy chill of humiliation and refused to look at the folder. “There’s nothing wrong with writing. You’ve made it very clear that you think it’s nothing more than a silly little hobby, but I disagree.”

  Judith waved her hand dismissively. “Never mind all that. I came here to discuss this new turn in your disastrous love life.”

  This strategy was all too familiar. Isabella refused to rise to the bait and lose her temper. “Mother, we’ve talked about this so many times. You can’t stop me from dating people I am attracted to. You can’t actually stop me from doing anything. I’m an adult.”

  “That is beside the point. That woman is the point. As your mother, I want to know more about her.”

  Despite her resolve, Isabella could already feel her tenuous control faltering. She barely resisted the urge to throw something at her mother. “It’s not beside the point! You need to learn boundaries. I’ve already told you all you need to know about Erin. You’ll find out more if you can learn to behave like a decent human being. If you do, I might bring her over for dinner. Considering the way you’re acting now, you deserve nothing more than the door. Slamming in your face.” Isabella’s voice was shrill. She’d tried to stay calm, but Alberto woke and Isabella hurried to pick him up before he started crying. Cuddling him close to her chest, as much to comfort herself as him, she stared at her mother.

  Judith sat down at the table. “You are exaggerating, Isabella dear. However, if it will calm you, I will explain further. My worry is twofold. Firstly, I feel upset to know that you embarked on something as important as choosing a new partner, and someone to bring into Alberto’s life, without telling me and your father.” She paused as if to let that sink in. It drove Isabella mad that her mother was so calm. Her demeanor no different than if they were discussing the weather. “Secondly, I had to watch you make a mess of your life once. No matter what I said or did, you just rushed headlong into that disastrous situation. I mean, quitting your job and moving to Florida to be with a man who was so unsuitable for you? I couldn’t bear to watch. To have you make that mistake again—I simply cannot stand it, my dear.”

  Isabella’s blood thundered in her ears. There was only so much longer she could stand this conversation before she screamed at her mother. She didn’t want Alberto subjected to that. She breathed deeply to calm herself. “Mother, my relationship with Richard was a failure, yes. But not because of where he lived or what he did for a living. Nor because I quit my job to be a mother and a writer. It failed because I didn’t love him. I love Erin. I love being with her, and I love the life I could have with her, writing and ra
ising Alberto.”

  Judith pointed to the folder marked writing with a sneer. “As we are back on the topic of writing, I see you are proceeding with that little hobby. Dearest darling, you are many splendid things, but we both know you are not a new Virginia Woolf. Authors are creative but damaged people living on the edge of society. You are a Martinez. We run society.”

  Isabella gritted her teeth and tried to ignore her heart pounding against her ribcage. “We are not a superhuman race, Mother. We’re individuals sharing genetics and a last name. Oh, and I find it interesting that you speak about damaged people as if you and I weren’t severely damaged.”

  For the first time, Judith’s mask of superiority and righteous anger slipped. She looked unsure for a moment, and then it was back in place.

  “I’m sure I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  “Really? You think undamaged people lock their children in a cold, damp basement overnight because they refused to wear the dress you chose for them for their birthday party? Without food. Or water. You think something like that wouldn’t damage a child? That it wouldn’t damage the relationship between the two people involved? Really?”

  Judith shook her head, frowning. “That was never about the dress. It was about you learning to obey me without question and to respect those who know better than you.”

  Isabella stomped her foot, shaking Alberto, who grabbed onto her shirt. “That’s the problem. You think you know better than everyone else and that you have to set the rules to keep the world from sliding into chaos. But it’s not true. You are not God, and I’m not some frail, idiotic sliver of a human being who needs your divine guidance.”

  Judith scoffed. “Melodramatic as always, Isabella.”

  “I’m still right. Besides, I can’t believe you are lecturing me about what it is to be a Martinez. You married into this family. Who made you the expert?”

  “That is exactly my point, dear. Your father didn’t choose an heiress like he was supposed to. He chose someone with ambition. Someone working their way up in the world. I was getting my law degree and educating myself on culture and etiquette. All while working painfully hard to pay for my own education. Your father chose someone who knew the value of money and status. Someone who could safeguard his family’s legacy.”