Forgiveness

by Chiquis Rivera

  “I don’t know, Pops. I have no idea.”

  I didn’t want to talk about my mother’s issues with him, especially in front of the kids. My mother had strictly forbidden me from doing so.

  “There’s something fishy going on here. I think you mother’s cheating on me,” Esteban continued. “Things have been very weird lately.”

  When we got home, Esteban went straight to the master bedroom. The kids went to their respective bedrooms, and I accompanied them, as always, to make sure they brushed their teeth and put on their pajamas.

  My cell phone rang. It was my Tío Juan. He wanted to let me know that he’d had dinner with my boyfriend, and that they’d had a long, man-to-man talk about what his intentions were with me.

  “Damn phone. You’re breaking up. I get no reception in this house,” I told him. “Let me call you back from the house phone.”

  I had been talking with my uncle for about fifteen minutes, sitting at the base of the stairs, when my boyfriend called. He wanted to tell me his side of the conversation! So I hung up the call with my uncle and started talking with my boyfriend. From what he said, they both seemed to have been content with the outcome of their conversation. That’s just how the Riveras operate: new boyfriend arrives, new boyfriend gets interrogated.

  “Baby, I’m tired. I’m going to head home, but I’ll call you when I get back to the apartment,” I told him. Between the two phone calls, I spent about half an hour sitting on the staircase. There were security cameras inside the house that were pointed directly at me. Everything was well documented.

  I stood up, took one last peek at Jenicka and another at Johnny and then I went to my mother’s room to say I was leaving.

  Esteban was lying on the bed, fiddling with his iPad.

  “Okay, Pops. I’m leaving. Good night,” I said. “I’ll just take rental car and come back tomorrow to pick up the Prius.”

  “I don’t think your mom went to see Elena’s girlfriend. Something just doesn’t look right, hija,” he said, in a suspicious tone. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m worried.” He further continued expressing some of his worries. I listened for a few minutes without saying anything, but very uncomfortable with the situation.

  I politely responded, “I don’t know.” Then, I gave him a kiss on the forehead and left. “Good night, Pops. See you tomorrow.”

  I left the room and the house quickly. My mother didn’t like it when we talked about her and her problems, and I certainly didn’t want to get involved in that sort of situation.

  When I got back to the apartment in Van Nuys, I could finally breathe calmly. If Esteban and my mother were going to be fighting, I didn’t want to be in the middle of it. They can deal with that themselves, I thought. And although I missed living with my mom and the kids, it was times like this when I loved my little garage. In there, I was safe from all the fighting, but I hoped Esteban and my mother could fix things for the sake of the kids.

  I called my boyfriend one last time to say good night: “Baby, I’m home. Talk to you tomorrow. I’m about to crash.” Then I lay down and closed my eyes.

  Everything had been recorded, either by my phone records or by the security cameras at my mother’s house. It would soon become the most confusing night of my life, for which I would be accused of the most unthinkable of things. And all the evidence I had was good for nothing. When they want to condemn you, they do it without mercy. In this world, the whole innocent-until-proven-guilty thing only applies in cop and lawyer movies.

  The next morning, I woke up extra early because I’d promised my friend Yadira that I’d come over for a visit. She lives so far away, in Victorville, I thought. I’d better take the Prius, that way I’ll spend less on gas.

  I was halfway to the house in Encino so I could switch cars with my mother when a phone call from Esteban stopped me in my tracks.

  “Hija, don’t come over here. Your mother’s in a terrible mood. She got home at three in the morning and unloaded on me with all these strange questions. She even asked me if there was something going on between the two of us.”

  “What?” I was so angry that I could barely speak. “How could my mother even think such a thing? Is she crazy?”

  “I don’t know what’s going on, or what Elena’s girlfriend told her last night. All I know is that she’s on her way to meet with someone now over at Jerry’s Deli.” Esteban sounded really nervous. “Chiquis, something’s going on. She said she was gonna fire a lot of people today.”

  “Okay, Pops, thanks for letting me know. I’ll talk to her later. Right now, I don’t even want to see her.”

  But before I could hang up, Esteban told me it would be best if I erased the texts we’d exchanged over the past few days.

  “No, Pops, I’m not gonna do that. Why would I erase them? We haven’t done anything wrong!”

  “Because your mother doesn’t even want us talking to each other. I didn’t want to tell you, but ever since you celebrated the premier of Chiquis ’N Control this summer, your mother asked me not to speak to you so much, not to text you, not to look after you anymore. She doesn’t want me paying any sort of attention to you.”

  Bam! This bomb came out of nowhere. Jealous? My mother was jealous? It was true that Esteban was very attentive with me, but no more and no less than he was with any of my brothers or sisters. And it’s true that I was respectful and welcoming with him, but it was never anything more than that. It’s just how I am with everyone around me.

  “No, Pops, I’m not gonna erase them,” I refused one more time. I didn’t have anything to hide, and I wasn’t going to act like a criminal.

  And not only did I refuse to delete those text messages, I actually saved them as further evidence of my own innocence, in case things took a turn for the worse. More evidence that turned out to be worthless when it came time to throw me into the fire.

  I decided that with or without my new car—and regardless of whatever drama was brewing there in Encino—I was going to go visit my friend Yadira, just as I’d promised her. Two hours behind the wheel would help me meditate and calm down. I had to think about this one really, really well.

  When I reached Victorville, I got the following bombshell of a text from my mother: I know what’s going on with Elena. I know you two are fucking.

  What the . . . ??? I replied, incredulously. She really had gone crazy! There was no other explanation! She had gone completely insane! First with Esteban, and now with Elena. And what would that make me? The biggest whore of them all?

  I called her immediately. I called her time and time again, but she refused to answer her phone. She just kept on texting me, accusing me of sleeping with Elena, saying that Elena had confessed to everything herself that very same morning.

  Desperate, I tried calling Pete Salgado, who was her manager at the time.

  “Look, Chiquis, I was there this morning when your mother confronted Elena. Elena told us herself that something was going on between the two of you.”

  “Something between me and Elena?” I shouted back. “Are you kidding me? You’re all fucking nuts!”

  I couldn’t understand any of this. In tears, I called my tío Juan.

  “Tío, my mom went crazy. She accused me of sleeping with Elena. She even thinks I’m sleeping with Esteban! She thinks I’m some kind of slut. Please, can you talk to her?”

  Juan didn’t believe I was capable of such accusations. He knew me better than anyone, so he tried calling my mother again and again, hoping to figure out what was going on with this very strange story. But no, she wouldn’t answer him either. My last resort was to ask my tía Rosie for help.

  “Tía, what’s going on?”

  “I don’t know, Chiquis. Your mom thinks I’m sleeping with Elena too, because she saw my texts, and every time Elena texts me she calls me ‘baby.’ ”

  “But what made her even think this?” I asked, baffled. But neither Rosie nor I could make heads or tails of such a mess.


  All of a sudden, I remembered the little incident at Jacqie’s wedding, when Elena flirted with me in front of her girlfriend. “Stupid rumors and jealousy,” I thought.

  Tía Rosie confirmed my suspicions.

  “Elena’s girlfriend got ahold of her phone yesterday and found a picture of you in a bikini from when we all went to Hawaii. Then she went, crying, to your mother about our stupid texts.”

  Aha! So that’s why she was texting like crazy last night at the movies, and that’s why my mother ran off to go talk with that girl. It was all starting to become clear now. Her paranoia had poisoned my own mother, and now there were two cases of paranoia to deal with.

  “Please, tía. Keep calling my mom. See if she’ll answer you, and if she does, tell her I never laid a finger on either Esteban or Elena. Please!” I begged.

  But when Rosie did finally get in touch with her, things got even worse.

  She relayed my message that I never betrayed her, at which point—from what my aunt told me later—my mother became enraged.

  “She found out that Esteban contacted you this morning to warn you about her suspicions, and that made her even more furious. She said Esteban was stupid, that she’d ordered him not to contact your or tell you anything. She’s sick of Esteban calling you behind her back and lying to her.”

  “But, tía, how is that my fault?”

  “It’s not, Chiquis, but you should give your mother some space,” she pleaded. “I’ve never seen her this angry. I swear, I just don’t understand it.”

  It was at that moment, blinded by rage, that I said the most horrible thing I’ve ever said about my mother to my aunt. To this day, my words still hurt. But I was so angry at the time that I blurted them out. I just couldn’t control myself.

  “Okay. Fine. I don’t need her. I hate her! I hate her for thinking those things about me! She always ruins anything that makes me happy and pushes me away from her. She’s such a bitch! So she doesn’t want to hear from me? Well, I don’t want her in my life anymore. She’s hurting me more than my own father ever did!”

  I think my tía Rosie would later repeat what I said to my mother, and of course those words hurt her deeply. The gap between us was growing ever wider.

  There were two wounded wolves. And the wounds were growing out of control, aided by all the toxic, gossipy voices surrounding my mother. During those days after the bomb went off, it was those voices—those flies buzzing around her—that were responsible for rubbing even more salt into my mother’s wounded heart.

  Poor Yadira. My visit wasn’t a very fun one. I was on the phone the whole time. The drama was oppressive. I don’t even know how I got back to my apartment from Victorville, but when I did, Esteban called me, which further complicated the rumors.

  “Hija, I want you to forgive me for what I said this morning about your mother being jealous. It’s not true,” he said, his voice sounding strange. “Your mother never said she suspected us of anything. I was wrong.”

  “What do you mean? What’s going on?” Now I felt really shaken up. “Wait, where are you?”

  “Here at home. I have you on speakerphone.”

  That’s when I understood: my mother had forced him to call me and to deny everything he had told me earlier that same day. And she was listening in on the call to make sure Esteban obeyed her.

  “Pops, I’m coming over,” I said, giving them fair warning. It was time to end this ridiculous nonsense.

  That night became another date I’ll never forget: Friday, September 21.

  I got to the house around ten o’clock that night. I walked straight into my mother’s room without knocking and demanded, “Mom, we need to talk. Right now.”

  I was so upset that I was beyond crying. I was more angry than sad. Esteban was sitting on a couch in the room, just watching us. I could see the fear in his eyes. What’s he afraid of? I thought for a second.

  “Okay, talk,” my mother answered. Her words were calm but very cold.

  “This is all such nonsense. First, I never slept with Elena. I don’t know who told you that or where you got that idea. We can go over to her house right now. I want to confront her and I want you to see it.”

  “No. We’re not going to Elena’s house. She’s out of my life, and I have no desire to see her. She already confessed to me everything I need to know.”

  “Look, Momma, it’s true that she tried to kiss me once. But that was over two years ago. It’s so far in the past that I forgot all about it. It only happened once, when she was drunk, over at her house, but I pushed her away. And I forgave her, because she’s been such a good friend to you, and because I know how much she loves this family. I took it as a simple mistake. And she never tried it again. Not once! We both put it behind us,” I explained. “I never said anything because I didn’t want to cause problems. But now I see that it has caused an even bigger problem. I’m so sorry.” Now was not the time to hide some silly little secret, no matter how pointless it might sound. “I don’t know if that’s what Elena was talking about, but nothing ever happened between us, and she never tried to make anything happen either. She respects me and she respects you too, Momma. A lot!”

  She stared at me, her face emotionless, like that of a judge about to bring down the gavel on an already decided case. But I kept on trying.

  “She’s your best friend. I know sometimes she makes me feel a little uncomfortable because she sucks up to you so much, but I always excused her because I know how much she loves you. I know that’s why she does it. She’s the first one there when you’re sick; she’ll be on the first plane to China if you’re feeling lonely over there. Momma, don’t blame her and don’t blame me. I swear, nothing ever happened between us other than that attempted kiss.”

  “Well, that’s not what Elena told me,” she said flatly. “And I have someone here to confirm it.”

  To my astonishment, Elena’s girlfriend then walked in. It felt like all the air was being sucked out of the room as she started talking all this crap about her partner. My mother had brought her into her home. I was speechless. I couldn’t believe what was happening. Apparently, after the blowup the night before, she no longer wanted to live with Elena, so my mother offered to let her stay at the house for a few days.

  “You don’t really know Elena,” this girl warned me. “She’s obsessed with your mother, Chiquis. I really don’t care what’s going on between the two of you, but Elena is not good people.”

  “Look,” I replied bluntly. “I met you three months ago. I don’t know you. Elena, on the other hand, she’s been a great friend to my mother all these years. You? I don’t believe a word you’re saying.”

  I warned my mother that she should not listen to this woman, that she couldn’t trust her words. But my mother just stared at me with the same, blank look on her face, as if she were some sort of bored judge.

  “Mom,” I said in conclusion, “I don’t think it’s right that you’re letting this woman into your home and listening to her lies while at the same time turning your back on your best friend and your daughter.” And when it came to the issue with Esteban, I looked her right in the face and said, “You think I’m sleeping with him too?”

  “I don’t think you’re sleeping with my husband. It was just a question that I asked him and his stupid ass called you after I told him not to,” she replied. Her eyes turned toward him, though she kept on speaking to me. “And if I’m going to leave his ass, it’ll be because he’s a liar. He lied to me. He swore that he never called you or told you about any of this.”

  Esteban remained silent. Apparently, he wasn’t going to defend himself.

  “Look, Momma, don’t leave him just because he tells stupid little white lies. Maybe he’s just scared. That’s no reason to get a divorce.”

  “That’s not it. Our problems are between him and me. He shouldn’t be calling you to talk about anything. I’m tired of his shit.”

  It was clear to me that there was no way to reason with her.
So that’s how the conversation ended that night, with many questions still floating around unanswered. But at the very least, I thought naïvely, we cleared up the fact that there was nothing going on between Esteban and me. If my mother still had doubts about whatever might have happened between Elena and me, well that was her problem. Oh well. Satisfied that I’d said my piece, I left.

  The next day, still very worried about so much drama and so many lies, I decided to visit Pete Salgado at his home. After all, he was present during the conversation between my mother and Elena.

  “Pete, tell me truthfully: Did Elena say that she slept with me?”

  “No, Chiquis,” he answered reluctantly. “That’s not exactly what she said. In fact, it was your mother who said it—‘I know what happened between you and Chiquis’—and then Elena started to cry and said it was just that one time.”

  Of course! My mother thought Elena was talking about sex, while Elena was referring to that stupid attempted kiss! She cleverly led her on to the point where she confessed any feelings she had for me, and she hung herself with her own words.

  It was a terrible misunderstanding that would end up being impossible to resolve. My mother had already forged her own version of the story in her head. It made it easier for her to think that I could have been with a woman, especially since I’m sure she remembered that little episode with Karla back at the house in Corona. Innocent kisses on the couch had now come at a huge price.

  Between the kisses that happened and those that didn’t, all of us were caught up in the web of rumors and jealousy that Friday night in September. We were completely tangled up in the most incredible of ways. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to unravel it all, or if it even matters anymore. All I can do is ask for forgiveness. That much is still in my own hands.

  I can ask forgiveness from my mother, for not telling her until it was too late about the time Elena tried to kiss me. Maybe that would have stopped the rumors from growing so much and spreading so far. But I had learned since I was a little girl to stay quiet. I realized how my abuse still affected me.