by R. M. Garcia
“Mom . . . !” Abbie was utterly confused. She had brought over exactly three boys in five years, and they were never welcomed this way. “What are you doing!? He doesn’t want a hug!” Donnie tried to wrestle out of her embrace, but she held him fast. She had to know he wanted to be released; she must have felt him struggling. Then she began to cry as she held him. The hug was so warm and familiar that he involuntarily stopped resisting and instinctively hugged her back. The loving embrace of a mother, something he had secretly longed for, was now around him. He could feel his barriers dropping and weights of pain being lifted all at once. The dam had overflowed and broken. Within moments, the pair was crying hysterically in each other’s arms, leaving Abbie completely flabbergasted. After a few minutes, she recovered from her shock and interceded.
“What the heck is going on!” she screamed, making fists on her sides and stomping her foot. Donnie and Abbie’s mother continued to cry in their hug. When they finally released their mutual embraces, they kept holding each of their hands.
“Hello, Donato. I am very glad to see you again,” Abbie’s mother said with tears still flowing down her cheeks.
“Hello, Camille, what’s for dinner?” Donnie asked with a big smile on his face. “I have missed your cooking.”
CHAPTER 5
Johan
AS DONNIE, ABBIE, and Camille sat at the dinner table talking, the tears kept flowing, but this time, they were good tears, tears that had been pent up too long.
“Did you know Abigail was my daughter, Donato?” Camille asked.
“I had no clue. I only ever knew your first name. I never made the connection,” Donnie explained.
“Well, I thought Donato was an Italian kid. I thought your name was short for Donald. I would have never connected the dots either.” Abbie added, “It all makes sense now.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“All the rumors and your habit of keeping to yourself,” she explained. “I totally understand it now.”
“Yeah, I haven’t felt comfortable getting close to anyone in a long time. I just can’t open up like I used to,” he confessed and added, “just easier to keep people at arm’s length.”
“Well, my dear, I consider you part of this family now,” Camille declared. “When your father gave his life for me, I felt awful. Then when I found out your mother had also passed, weeks earlier, I couldn’t imagine the pain you were suffering.” Camille’s eyes began to water up again.
“You lost your mom too?” Abbie looked at Donnie with eyes wide. She finally understood.
“Yes, she died of cancer,” he answered. Abbie’s eyes swelled as she remembered their session on Wednesday.
“So when I told you I almost lost my mom . . .” she said and then paused. The words could no longer escape her mouth. Oh my god, what must he have felt? She thought.
“It was a bit hard on me,” he replied and added, “but there was no way you could’ve known, and I didn’t want to talk about it, so don’t feel bad.”
“I still feel like a bad person,” she said as tears began coming down her face.
“Not your fault,” Donnie placed his hand on hers. Seeing her in pain was somehow a very distressful thing, and he just didn’t know why he was feeling this way.
“And losing your parents was not your fault either, Donato,” Camille added as she grabbed his other free hand.
“I know, but it’s hard to not feel guilty,” he answered. “I feel like I should’ve been a better son.”
“You were the best son, and I know this in my heart,” Camille assured with a tearful smile. “Do you want to know why?”
“Sure, I’ll bite.” Camille’s eyes swelled again up, and she began to cry once more. She could barely speak without wiping her eyes.
“Because I know you truly loved your parents, and I know they loved you. It was so clear to me when I read the inscriptions you had written on their headstones.” She was completely sobbing now. Her lips trembled by the emotion she was now feeling, but she managed to smile. It was an odd mix of emotions on her face.
“When did you go their graves, Mom?” Abbie asked. “I thought you decided it would have been inappropriate to attend the funeral.”
“I went with your father the next day,” Camille explained and added, “and that’s when I discovered, to my horror, the woman I had hoped to avoid was lying beside her husband. So I came face-to-face with her anyway.”
“Just like Mom, always getting her way.” Donnie smiled as he remembered that his father rarely won any argument with her.
“I read the beautiful inscriptions, which the caretaker told me you had written for them,” she continued. Abbie felt overwhelmed that he had been forced to take so much upon himself. She did not know how he had made it through and wondered if she could have been as strong. She closed her eyes and tried not to think about losing her own parents. The very thought sickened her.
“So there I was, paying my respects, and I felt something,” Camille informed. “I knew that I needed to help you.”
“A spirit whisper,” Donnie informed smiling.
“A spirit what?” Abbie asked.
“When a spirit wants to give a message to someone, they whisper it in their ear,” he explained. “Basically only one person hears it, and they feel a strange sense of urgency.”
“That is exactly how it felt!” Camille said. She recalled how she felt urged to look after the young man now sitting at her table.
“Mom was looking out for me, I guess.” Donnie’s tears welled back into his eyes. Had she actually asked this woman to watch over him? He felt a feeling of warmth surround him as if another set of arms was embracing him as he sat at this table and no longer wondered.
“I can’t imagine what I would do if I had lost both Mom and Dad,” Abbie added still crying. “I would have probably curled up and died.”
“I tried that, but a pushy woman kept bringing me delicious food to eat,” he said smiling at Camille. He closed his eyes forcefully, trying to force out the excess moisture in his eyes.
“It was not enough. You were drying up right before my eyes,” Camille replied. Her face became very determined at that point. “I needed to take more drastic action.”
“What did you do, Mom?” Abbie asked apprehensively.
“I called child services,” she replied.
“Mom, you didn’t?” Abbie said shocked. How could she do such a thing? Abbie thought. Was he really in that bad a state?
“Yes, I did! I had no choice, and I won’t apologize either. I made a promise that day, a sacred promise, from one mother to another,” she said tears still flowing and added, “something you will understand one day, Abigail.” Abbie looked at her mother and smiled. She had always told her that, “You will understand when you have one of your own.” She was right. How could she truly know how any mother felt until she held her own child in her arms?
“It was the right choice. My social worker was fantastic.” Donnie recalled how far and beyond she went for him. He made a mental note to ask Charlie the next time he saw her, if she was also “urged” by his mother to help him. He wouldn’t have put it past her. Donnie felt strange at that moment. He began to wonder if his mother had been watching him all this time and he had just not realized it.
“I am relieved. I didn’t want to cause you any further pain,” Camille replied, gripping his hand tighter for a moment before getting up to tend to the stew simmering on the stove.
“Once I graduate, I’ll be free of the court system completely,” he explained. “So I needed tutoring to pass history.”
“What a strange coincidence!” Abbie said and added, “that we would meet this way.”
“Not really,” Donnie replied.
“What do you mean?” She wondered what he meant.
“It’s hard to explain. I’ll have to tell you sometime but not right now.” Donnie didn’t want to go too deeply into his faith of the spirit world. He felt this would be a conve
rsation better saved for another day. One look at Abbie, and he knew she would not drop it. At that moment, the front door could be heard, opening and closing.
“Hello, I am home. Where are my lovely girls?” a deep voice boomed.
“It’s my dad. Don’t panic, Donnie,” Abbie said as she tightened her grip on his hand.
“Do you think I can fit through that window?” he said jokingly pointing at the kitchen window.
“We are in the kitchen, Johan,” Camille cried out. After a moment, Johan entered the kitchen. He was a tall and extremely muscular man; he reminded Donnie of a white Michael Clarke Duncan and was momentarily stunned by the man’s sheer bulk. When he spotted the young man sitting at the table, Donnie completely understood why Abbie did not get asked out often. The man’s glare was nerve wracking. Donnie suddenly realized that he was still holding hands with Abbie and jerked his hand quickly from her. Johan gave Camille a kiss but continued to keep a suspicious eye on Donnie while doing so. The window looked better and better to Donnie with every passing second.
“So who is our visitor, Abigail?” Even though the question was directed at his daughter, his gaze remained fixed on Donnie. It was starting to freak him out now.
“Father, this is one of my students.” she began. “His . . .”
“Oh . . . I see, and what exactly is he studying? Books I’d hope,” Johan said interrupting Abbie as he maintained his discerning stare on Donnie.
“History, Dad, he is studying history.” Her tone had shifted from happy to one of annoyance.
“Hmm,” he said as he took a seat at the table. The poor wooden chair creaked but held, and he dropped his massive frame onto it. Donnie felt that every step this goliath took actually shook the entire house. Johan maintained his unflinching gaze on Donnie. “Are you staying for dinner?”
Donnie was nervous, but he also loved his predicament. This was an everyday normal situation. Two hours ago, Donnie would have said, “No, sir,” walked out, and never looked back. It was unusual that he wasn’t feeling overwhelmed. He wasn’t on the verge of panic. He didn’t feel like running.
His mind went to work. In a blink of an eye, he calculated hundreds of possible answers and outcomes, his mind forming a chart in his head with responses and the effects, they could generate. This was the same skill that made him nearly impossible to beat at chess. He detected that Johan’s question, along with the tone of his voice, had been a trap. It was trick question meant to elicit an unfavorable response. His response needed to be perfect. A response of simply “yes,” would have seemed presumptuous and would have been countered negatively maybe with, “Well, I’m glad I get consulted on who will be eating my food in my house.” That simply would not do. The responses needed to leave it in Johan’s hands so that ultimately it was his decision, both showing respect for his home and authority.
“If you wouldn’t mind me sharing your table, I would be honored,” Donnie answered as respectfully as he could.
“Well, on Sundays, it’s only family.” Who was this boy Johan thought and why was he holding his daughter’s hand. Unacceptable, he had to go, he thought. He knew exactly how to get rid of the boy; it was a skill that he had honed to a science.
“Daddy . . . !” Abbie was both surprised and annoyed.
“Johan . . .” Camille turned and placed a hand on her hip. “Don’t behave like that, this is . . .” Donnie’s mind raced again. He had given Johan the chance to invite him and appear magnanimous in front of his guest and family, and Johan had chosen to reject him. His mind formulated countless plans and then stopped. In another blink, he had calculated a new response.
“No. No. He’s the man of the house,” Donnie interrupted. “If he wants to enjoy a dinner alone with his family, after a hard day of work, then that’s his right. I won’t impose.”
“Donnie, wait,” Abbie pleaded.
“He has made up his mind,” Johan interrupted. “So let him go.” Johan shot a gaze at both Abbie and Camille. They knew not to argue, that his mind was made up. Donnie got up from the table and began walking toward the swinging door. Camille’s face was turning red in anger. He stopped where Johan was sitting and extended his hand. Last chance, Donnie thought to himself. Johan stood up towering over Donnie and shook his hand. Johan’s grip was tighter than it needed to have been. It caused him considerable discomfort, but he managed not to show it. Donnie thought, fine old man, if this is how you want to play it; I am going to have to take you down.
“Family is everything, sir. I hope you will always be surrounded by yours. Not everyone is so lucky.”
“Thank you, boy,” Johan finally released his vice grip. He was slightly impressed that this boy had not flinched when he squeezed his hand.
“Goodnight, Abbie, goodnight Camille, goodnight, sir.” Donnie turned and pushed his way past the swinging door. Camille and Abbie both shot angry looks at Johan. He knew he would have to endure a little henpecking before dinner, but at least he would be free of this suitor.
“I’ll walk you out.” He placed his hand on Donnie’s shoulder, slightly guiding him out. The pair reached the door, and Johan opened it and guided him out. Donnie was irritated by this; he didn’t need to keep a hand on his shoulder the entire way to the door. Donnie turned around and faced Johan with sly grin.
“It was a pleasure to finally meet you, sir.”
“Yes, a real pleasure . . .” he said suddenly realizing he didn’t know the boy’s name. “Uh, what is your name anyway?”
“Donato . . . Donato Guerrero,” Donnie said his name with purpose, knowing full well that Johan would recognize it. He had the pleasure of watching the color fade from Johan’s face as he realized who Donnie actually was. Johan’s mouth opened as if to say something, but Donnie didn’t give him a chance and turned around and started jogging toward his car. He was already in his cherry-red convertible when Abbie ran out after him.
“Well played, sir. I think you broke my dad,” Abbie informed. “He’s inside, beside himself. Did you plan that?”
“Not initially, but after he told me to get out and then crushed my hand, I decided to fight back.” Donnie looked up at her and half smiled.
“He never said that.”
“It’s what he meant. He was going to make me feel guilty for imposing on Sunday dinner.” Donnie could see that Abbie was not seeing it the same way he did.
“He would never have kicked you out if had known who you were.” Abbie found it hard to defend her father at this moment, but she needed to broker a peace somehow.
“Not knowing who I am isn’t a good excuse for being rude, but it’s fine. Please tell your dad I have a freezer full of TV dinners. I’ll be just fine.” His response bore a bit of anger in his tone that he unintentionally shifted onto Abbie.
“Way to twist the knife there . . .” Abbie cupped her mouth with both hands, realizing that those were probably the worst words she could have used. “Oh, Donnie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you stabbed anyone.”
“It’s fine.” Donnie looked at her and chucked. He was done being angry. “I got years worth of tears out in your house. I expect I won’t have a need to cry for a long time.”
“Come back inside and eat with us.” She cupped her hands in supplication and added, “Please.”
“I think your dad has had enough of me for today. I think I’ll let the guy relax.”
“Seriously, you have to come back inside. My mom is furious. Dad will get zero peace if you drive off.” She was sure her mother was tearing her dad a new one right as this very moment.
“He’ll be OK,” he assured as he started the engine to his car and added, “your mom will forgive him.”
“Donnie, come on, don’t be like this.” She had to take harsher steps; he was being stubborn, just like a man.
“Like what?”
“Like a coward,” she snipped. “You beat my dad at his chase off any boy that comes sniffing around game, now man up!”
“I’m a cowa
rd?” Donnie wondered if she was right.
“Yeah, here comes a little human contact and your fight-or-flight instinct swings to run.” She looked him straight in the eyes. “Choose to fight for once.” Donnie realized that she was right, and it was a pattern that he needed to break. He moved his hand from the gearshift back to the ignition key. “Come on, Donnie, for me.”
“OK for you,” like he could have actually told her no, and he exited the vehicle. The pair walked back up the door and was met at the door by Johan. He had a heavy look of shame upon him. Donnie felt immediately sorry. He had used a man’s family against him. He had inflicted pain on someone else; he instantly realized that he went too far. His father especially would be ashamed of him. It was a hard lesson to learn.
“Allow us a moment, Abbie?” Johan asked of his daughter as he let her in the house. He closed the door behind to allow them some privacy. He looked at Donnie, and then looked down at the ground. He could not look Donnie in the eye. “Please forgive me.” Donnie watched as the large man eyes glassed over. His voice had quivered as he begged for his pardon, and his hand shook as he extended it, this time unsure that Donnie would accept it. Donnie felt awful. He felt he should run away, but then he heard his father’s words inside him. “Forgive any man who admits he has made an error, and in turn he will have respect for you.”
“Already forgotten,” Donnie replied and firmly took his outstretched hand.
“Please have dinner with us. I would be honored.” Johan was relieved that he agreed to come back after how badly he had treated him. He had wanted to meet the boy for a long time, but did not know what he would tell him. How could he show his appreciation for the son of the man that had saved his wife?