“Baby, I’m so sorry I left you that night. More than being filled with jealousy, I was afraid that you might have never really loved me. I know I told you long ago that it was okay if you didn’t love me just yet, that I had enough love for the both of us. I should have understood then that you never lied to me about your true feelings for him. You were always honest with me. And even now, at this very moment, I’d rather have a part of your heart than none of it at all.”
“You asked me for my heart. And I’m giving it to you. Without fear, without condition. I’m sorry that it’s taken me a while, but it’s all yours now. I love you and only you. Three days without you, Alex, is more than I can ever take.”
“Show me, Isabel. Show me how much you love me. Kiss me.” He closed his eyes and waited for me to draw his face toward mine. It felt like our first kiss. Young and fresh and invigorating. Nothing about this man was ever familiar. Every single moment with him was a chance to discover something new.
“I love you, Isa. But I need to know that I’m the only one you want. We’ll move away, and I’ll fight for you for the rest of my life.”
“Oh, Alex,” I wept, “please forgive me. I’ll spend my whole life showing you how much I love and want only you. Take me, please. Fill me up. I’m so empty without you.”
He kissed me. He poured his heart into my mouth, and I willingly accepted whatever it was he so generously shared with me. He pulled the straps of my dress down to reveal my breasts. I didn’t care that we were outside. I held them out to him and urged him to take them in.
“My beautiful baby,” he groaned. “I love you so much.”
I pressed my weight against him and held him to me as he nipped and pulled and sucked. “Alex, I want you deep inside me,” I begged as I pulled my panties to one side, reached into his sweatpants, rubbed myself against him and sunk him into me. He used his hands to move me on top of him, up and down, side to side. I threw my head back and closed my eyes.
This.
A few seconds later, he gently lifted me up and laid me on the ground, then continued to drive himself in, harder, rougher, more forcefully. He placed his arms behind me to cushion me from the coarse brick surface.
“Open your eyes, Isa, look at me,” he gruffly commanded.
I opened them up to the most arresting blue I had ever seen.
“Who do you see?” He plunged into me.
“You,” I whimpered, never leaving his gaze. “I see you.”
He shoved himself into me again as he repeated those three words. I was in ecstasy, seconds away from coming undone. One word, one thrust.
“Who. Do. You. See?”
“Oh god, Alex. You! I see you! Only you!” I exclaimed.
He let out a guttural sound as we both shook uncontrollably and found our release simultaneously. “Take me baby,” he said, “take all I have, I’m yours!”
Two months after our wedding, we packed up and left against our parents’ wishes. Alex quit his lucrative job with his dad, despite his family’s protests. I think he knew that getting me out of there was the only way our marriage stood a fighting chance. Chalk it up to naivety, but somehow we thought we would have the same jobs we had after college and that settling in as a family was going to be a breeze. Well, it wasn’t. We found ourselves with many interviews for work that stretched into nothing but false prospects. I took a job as a copy girl at a large law firm and studied at night for the board exams. Alex stayed with Eddie most of the time and worked nights on the computer doing some medical billing for a doctor’s office down the street.
For the first time in our lives, money wasn’t a given, we had to work for it like everybody else. Gone were the days of designer outfits, fancy cars and a non-existent budget. But it made us stronger. We had each other, and we didn’t need anything else. Our one bedroom apartment, as sparsely decorated as it had been, was a home filled with much love and harmony.
I knew that I had to truly fall in love with Alex. For our sake and the sake of our baby. It has taken a while for me to see that amidst all of the love Alex has given me and our child all these years, I fell in love with him more and more every day. When I told him I was pregnant with our child, when he changed the first diaper, when he took Eddie fishing or sledding or when he watched him all day and night as I was studying to get my license. Our years together were filled with many trials, as newlywed couples must all experience. Moving to a foreign country made it ten times more difficult. Pretty soon, we were stuck in the conundrum of life consisting of a baby and daycare and work and overtime. With perseverance through the hard times, our careers began to flourish. We were able to buy our dream house and had the luxury of spending more time together. Evie thinks I am overly protective of Eddie, always making sure that he’s in a healthy and happy environment. I guess it’s part of who I’ve become and what I’ve resolved to do.
Alex and I visited my mother a few times before Eddie was born and we established a relaxed and easy relationship. By this time, she was with her sixth husband, a younger man whose intentions we couldn’t figure out. But she loved him. They danced together; they traveled together. She gave him everything he could ever want.
A few years after we were married, my grandfather passed away. With his passing came the most devastating tempest that ripped our family apart — the provisions of his will. My mother was part of the maelstrom that began when he purposely left half to her children, knowing that she wasn’t stable enough to pass it on to us. There were legal battles that convinced me to cut the ties with her completely. She was angry that my grandfather had decided to bypass her right as his child, and she took out all of her anger on me. There was lawsuit after lawsuit and legal demand letters to return what I had inherited were filling up my mailbox every single day. Someone told me that it wasn’t my mother that was orchestrating this fight. But once again, the familiar pain of her prioritizing the men in her life over her children was all too recognizable and debilitating to me. I felt like I died the very day I decided to stop all communication with her. As months passed, I missed her with such a deep longing — I could swear that the pain had translated way beyond emotional to something blatant and tangible. Her birthday, Mother’s Day, all the other holidays … for the first few years, I would find myself buying cards that sat on my desk for a few days and then eventually found themselves in the gift wrapping drawer. But as with everything else, things got easier with time. Soon enough, the constant thought and yearning for her faded away until it became nothing but a dull and permanent void. The sad thing is that I would’ve forgiven her in a heartbeat if only one of us had reached out to the other.
One night long ago, during my struggling period with Alex, I received a call I will never forget.
“Hello?” I answered, thinking it was my husband informing me of a late night at the office.
“Issy. I can’t do this. It’s still you. Do you think of me, Issy?” His words were slow and deliberate.
“Yes, I do.”
And just like that the phone went dead.
I honestly think that it was divine intervention that night that made Jesse hang up the phone. At my lowest point, I think I would have blindly run away with him if he had asked me to. I was misinterpreting my regret about our decision to move away as a reflection of my marriage. My marriage was as good as it could be. I had so much love with Alex. Jesse was the hot flame that torched my heart, while Alex is the ever-glowing coal that keeps the fire burning, steady and unwavering. I just had to get out of this rut and find myself. And that’s exactly what I did.
Ten long years and many promotions later, I finally made it. I had a career, I had friends, I had hobbies, and I had a life. Most importantly, the man who patiently waited while I pieced myself back together, finally and irrevocably owned every single part of my heart.
We found out that my mother was very ill about six months ago. She was diagnosed with Pulmonary Hypertension, a fatal disease caused by high blood pressure and an overworked hear
t. The doctors gave her a year to live after an assessment was made on the state of her arteries. They said that the drugs she had been taking all her life had simply tired it out. She was in and out of the hospital but would always end up at home after staying for a day or two. Alicia said she had an oxygen tank by her bed and could no longer exert much effort without getting out of breath. During this time, my mother’s siblings would visit her, have lunch with her, and stay for hours just talking and reminiscing about their childhood. My mother was making peace with herself and the people she loved. She knew she was running out of time.
We are coming home for the first time in ten years and I’m ready to embrace it. The memories, the pain and the much-needed closure. I want to feel the love I had for her all over again, I want to mourn her and remember her. I want her to know that everything I am is because of her. I want her to be proud of me just as I am proud of her. I’m satisfied that she tried her best to be a good mother. Sometimes in life you don’t even get that much. I’m lucky that I did.
“Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.”
—Khalil Gibran
We take the car to the memorial home, where the final service before internment concluded hours ago. It’s late at night and only my sisters are here. They’ve been sitting in silence, waiting for me. The memorial chapel is quiet; there are candles everywhere. In the middle of the room is a large crucifix, suspended so gracefully in the air. There are all kinds of flowers, all shapes and sizes. You can tell the ones from important people — the President of the country, some senators and government officials — white tulips and orchids with obnoxiously large sashes or bows. At the foot of the crucifix, is a square shaped urn. It is a beautiful pink marble urn resting on top of a gold stand and surrounded by pictures. Alex, Eddie and I walk in and my sisters turn around. They don’t rush to embrace me. They look at me with worried eyes. I know they think I’m going to break down, but I don’t.
I calmly take a seat on the couch right between Evie and Grace. Alicia is now somewhere in the kitchen instructing the servants to start putting away the food. We are holding hands and just sitting. Not a word has been exchanged since I arrived. Alex and Eddie take a seat in one of the pews in the back. They are kneeling down, praying in silence. My Alex always gives me the space I need.
We finally break the silence and exchange pleasantries. “How was the flight? Did you hit traffic coming from the airport? Are you hungry? Rose left some food for you. Oh, by the way, Rose will be Eddie’s nanny while he’s here. She’ll take care of him.”
“Thank you,” I say.
So much has happened in the last few years. Bernard passed away and Mellie left to take care of her ailing mother.
I don’t know how long we sit like that, but someone from the chapel comes in and starts turning off the lights. That must have been their hint for us to leave. By now it’s midnight, and although I’m wide awake, my sisters are ready to call it a night.
We arrive at my mother’s house and walk through the front entrance. I know the drill when I’m here. We are waited on hand and foot. I don’t even give my luggage or bags a thought — I know they’ll be carried in for me. Sure enough, there is quite a bit of rustling around as the maids help bring the luggage in and take it up to our bedroom.
“Eddie, ask Nanny Rose to help you get ready for bed, please.”
Eddie has this uncomfortable look on his face as she starts to take his hand and lead him to the bathroom to get washed up.
“Mom, I don’t need any help.” He’s not used to being pampered or cared for by anyone other than Alex or me. Only his mom does those things for him. He has a nanny for a few hours before and after school, but otherwise, he spends all his time with us.
“Okay, honey, go get dressed then. Nanny Rose will just help unpack your suitcase.”
“Alicia, I’m hungry. Can you ask the cook to make me something?” I smile while taking a seat at the table.
“I think she did make dinner. Let me ask her to lay it out on the table.”
That blessed intercom. We don’t have the luxury of calling for help in the States.
In a few minutes, the dinner table is laid out to the max with chicken and steak and salads. We sit down to eat dinner at midnight.
“Isabel, Mom wanted so much to see you.”
“I know. Please tell me what happened.” I delay taking a bite of my food to focus intently on my sisters’ words.
“Ugh, I feel so guilty,” starts Evie. “She looked so well the night before, she was in great spirits and we were talking about who was going to pick you up at the airport. After she had dinner, I convinced Grace to go out dancing with me and my friends. I swear, Isabel, she looked great, if she didn’t I wouldn’t have gone out.”
I smile at my older sister. I know her. I know she loves coming home to see her old friends. She married at eighteen and that marriage didn’t work out. Ever since then, she’s been enjoying the so-called single life. She did nothing wrong.
“Anyway, Alicia, Grace and I were on the way to the hospital to visit Mom at about 9:00 that morning and that’s when we got the call. The nurse on duty said that she went to give Mom her medication and found her breathing heavily, murmuring, “Oh God, Oh God.” The nurse started checking her vitals and increased the morphine for her pain. Mom started to smile and speak as if there was someone else in the room with her. Even as the nurse was adjusting the medication, she took a deep breath and passed away. By the time we got there, Mom was still in her bed, but she was gone. Her liver had swollen up and her stomach was as big as a balloon. I think her liver couldn’t take the experimental drugs that she took,” Evie’s voice is shaking.
Alicia continues. “About a week ago, Mom had already picked out her dress for the burial. She insisted on wearing her pearls, you know, the ones with the diamonds. She was beautiful. We dressed her in the beautiful beige dress that she chose, with the shoes and the pearls, and we placed the rosary you gave her from Italy in her hands. The crematorium had us remove the pearls right before they passed her through the incendiary oven.” I nod my head in affirmation. “Isabel,” continues Alicia, “we are so sorry you didn’t get to see her. She wouldn’t have wanted to remain looking like that, she said she wanted us all to remember her the way she was before she got sick.”
We all begin to eat our dinner in silence. Just then, the doorbell rings and in walks Evie and Alicia’s new significant others. They stayed at the funeral home to help clean up and prepare for the morning. Rafael and Winston. Great guys, good for my sisters. I stand up and give them both hugs and move over to the couch to continue our conversation.
“Rose, please ask Sir Alex to come downstairs if he would like to join us,” I request. She comes back down a few seconds later to tell me that he’s going to shower and wants to check email upstairs.
Evie and Ali move over to the couch to sit with me. The couch of secrets. Make out sessions. The same couch we sat on years ago when Jesse’s letter arrived — funny how that thought just popped up in my head.
“How’s everything, Isa?” Evie asks. “Congratulations by the way — another promotion. It seems like you get one every year.”
I smile. “Just lucky, I guess?”
“Eddie is so cute, Isa. He’s so well behaved. Does he still have the same nanny he’s had since he was born?” Ali joined in.
“Yup, she’s still with us. She loves him so much and is such an important part of our family of four,” I chuckled.
“Alex hasn’t changed since he left either. He looks really good. And still so crazy about you.” Evie winked.
The ten years abroad seemed to be good for him. Still beautiful, handsome. Youthful and fit.
“I’m crazy about him too. It’s never been better. We’ve really weathered a lot together.” My body felt warm at the thought. I miss him even when he’s in the same house with me. I must remember to remind him just how much I love him.
“
Those Facebook pictures you posted a few years ago, the ones with the two of you in Paris? You both looked so peaceful.” Evie leans back and places her chin on her knees.
“That was sweet, wasn’t it? He asked the nanny to stay with Eddie for three nights so he could whisk me away to Paris on the eve of our seventh anniversary. He has always had the number seven in mind, you know … his obsession with the Jesse seven.” I laugh. When we reached that milestone in our marriage, he celebrated having more years in my life than Jesse. “Seven years and one day. Score!” he said that night. And score he did. Over and over again.
“So what now, sissies? Where do we go from here?”
“Funny you should ask,” said the leader of our pack. “We have quite a few meetings set up with the lawyers. Mom left us everything in her will with the provision that we help her husband and support him permanently during his lifetime. We also have to consolidate the properties we now own under Grandpa’s estate. Isabel, I’m counting on you to make sense out of the numbers for us.”
“Well, I’d like to take a look at the financials so we can start reinvesting and expanding the business. We can take some cash out to settle our obligations. I know Alex and I have some in the States.” I’m now in business mode. At two in the morning. Typical. I keep going. “Have you heard of that chain of restaurants that’s the rave now in the States? I think we should open one here. Can we look at a list of contacts to see who I can meet with while I’m in town? We planned this trip for three weeks, so I can get the ball rolling on everything.”
This is me in my element. I’m just getting started when I notice Ali and Evie and their stolen glances. Their eyes are moving sideways and they’re looking but not really looking at each other. Evie changes the subject.
“Isa, do you think you and Alex and Eddie can settle back here now? You are, after all, our only business-minded sister.”
The Light in the Wound Page 24