by Reeni Austin
In a sympathetic voice, she said, "But why would I? This isn't my home, Victor. I don't have an attachment to it like you do. Mom's not gonna stay here, I'm sure. She has a new life of her own to start."
Victor nodded. "Yes. And you can see her anytime you want. I told you, it'll be like it was when you lived in Chicago and we were dating. You can see her anytime you want."
She sighed. "That was a pain."
"Yes, because of your job."
"Well, this time it'll be a pain because of the baby. And I'd rather not have a nanny if I can help it. If we go back home, I'll have Mom around to help."
Victor trailed his fingers through her hair. "You can still have Patty around. And Marcy too. Whatever you want. Planes fly both ways, you know." He grinned. "The hardest thing will be figuring out where we wanna send Isaac to school. That may require us spending a lot more time in one place or the other."
Cara shook her head. "I don't know. It sounds to me like we'll have to pick a location or spend most of our time apart. I don't like that."
He gave her a stern look. "You should know by now that I have a way of making things happen."
"Yeah. You throw money at a problem and make it go away. But I don't see how you're gonna do it this time."
Victor inhaled deeply, trying to think of a solution. "Well, I can always just come down here a few times a month. Make sure Ramon's ranches are doing all right. He's working himself to the bone."
"Oh God." Cara groaned and rolled to her back. "It's not your fault he works too hard. He's a control freak. He could hire people to help but he doesn't want to."
"He needs me and he knows it."
She scoffed. "I wouldn't be so sure of that. I've known people like him. They create their own messes. He probably throws himself into work on purpose to have an excuse to avoid living a real life. And you know what?" She paused. "It's sad. And I honestly wish there was something you could do to help him but he'll probably never change."
"You don't know that."
"You're right, I don't. But maybe instead of moving you could hire someone else to manage the ranches for him. You don't need to physically be here and—"
"My brother needs me, Cara." Victor's voice broke at the end of his sentence.
Cara sat up. "Okay. I'm sorry."
Victor took a few breaths to steady himself, surprised by his own unexpected show of emotion. He gazed off into the dark of the room. "You know, my mother died in here." He pointed off to the corner. "Over there, near the big window. That's where we moved her bed because she liked to feel the sunlight. She was too weak to go outside anymore."
Silently, Cara cozied up next to him.
He draped an arm around her shoulders, holding her close as he continued. "I guess we didn't really think she was dying. We never used that word. Dying. Or death. We knew it was happening but maybe we didn't wanna face it. Or maybe it happened so fast, we were in shock the entire summer." Victor inhaled with a tiny sniffle and pulled Cara tighter.
She remained quiet, resting against him as he took a few breaths.
He continued in a soft voice. "Toward the end, she was weak and incoherent. She made the most horrible sound when she breathed. I can still hear it." He swiped his wet eyes with his wrist. "And I remember her trying to breathe the last time she spoke to me. I laid there beside her, holding her hand. She told me to take care of my brothers. Begged me…" Victor pulled the sheet to his face as his words melted into sobs.
Stunned, Cara put her arms around him, unsure how to respond. She had never seen him like this before.
After a minute, Victor stopped crying and took a few deep breaths. Then he said, "She pleaded with me. Probably used every bit of strength she had left. Said she was counting on me as the oldest to make sure Armando and Ramon were well cared for." He sighed. "But especially Ramon, since he was the youngest. I guess she figured he'd have the hardest time dealing with it." He sniffled. "And I think she was right."
In a soft voice, Cara said, "She'd be so proud of you. Look how far you've come."
Victor brought the sheet to his face again to dry his tears, then he stared at the window. "I thought the best way to take care of my brothers was to make as much money as I could. So, I figured out how to do that. Worked my fucking ass off. I wanted wealth, and that's what I got. Thought I could make everyone's problems go away if I had enough money. Then we'd all be happy. But Ramon…." He paused for a sad chuckle. "He'd never take a dime from me. For a few years there he was really struggling, too. I tried to wire money to his bank account about a half dozen times. He'd always have the bank send it right back to me." Victor's voice cracked, then he took a few deep breaths. "And you know what he'd say to me every time?" He looked at Cara. "'When are you coming to visit?'"
Then he looked away as tears spilled down his face. He lifted the sheet to his eyes and through his tears, mumbled, "I'm sorry."
"It's okay, honey." Cara scrambled across the bed to the nightstand and grabbed a box of tissues.
Victor took them and blew his nose. A few moments later he said, "I didn't mean to get so upset. I'm sorry."
"I told you, it's okay." She smiled and rubbed his arm. "I'm glad you told me."
He nodded. "I feel like the worst brother in the world. He never wanted my money. He just wanted me around. But I was too busy making all that money he couldn't have cared less about."
Cara pressed her cheek against his shoulder. "I understand why you wanna move here now. You feel guilty."
Victor pulled away from her, looking in her eyes. "Not entirely. Don't get me wrong. There's a big part of me that feels guilty. But really, I just love my brother. And I wanna spend more time with him."
Cara nodded and put her arms around Victor. "Just give me some time, okay?"
CHAPTER 19
Tuesday morning came, and Ramon woke up at three-thirty, as usual. But today he woke up alone in the trailer. It was the first time in days that Marcy wasn't beside him.
He felt a spasm of pain in his chest. Then his head. Then his stomach. Is this what heartbreak feels like? he wondered.
He took a quick shower to wake himself up in lieu of his morning coffee. He would've made some himself but he knew from checking the kitchen the night before that the guys had used all the coffee in the trailer without replenishing it. And damn if he was going inside the main house.
But then, as he walked around the small house with only a towel around his waist, he realized the only clean pants in the dresser were Henry's—and they were a few sizes too small for Ramon.
After considering all options, he knew he had no choice but to go to the main house to his bedroom.
Wearing the dirty jeans he wore the previous day, Ramon padded quietly through the back door in his socks, instantly greeted by the rich aroma of fresh coffee.
He smiled, in spite of himself. Patty had set the timer on the coffee maker, as usual. And he was thankful.
But his first destination was upstairs. He tried to step as lightly as possible, avoiding the creakiest floor boards. When he got to his room, he gently opened the door and went to his dresser. Each drawer was full of fresh clothes that weren't there yesterday. He knew Marcy must have done this.
He let out a sad sigh. If only she hadn't betrayed him…
A few minutes later, wearing fresh clothes and carrying a bag full of garments to get him through the rest of the week, Ramon left his room. He neared the stairs when he had the sudden urge to see her.
He turned around and walked as gently as possible to her door. It was cracked open. His heart raced. Maybe she left it that way because she hoped he'd join her in the middle of the night?
Softly, he pushed the door open and peered inside.
And there she was, on her back. Resting peacefully. Blankets pulled all the way up to her neck. His first thought was to jump in beside her and spend the next few hours sleeping, then make love to her as soon as she woke up. But then his anger took over.
Ramon padded ou
t of the room and pulled the door closed before heading down to the kitchen to fill up his gigantic coffee mug.
Ten minutes later, as he was driving, his phone rang.
He immediately knew it was Henry.
For a moment he considered throwing his phone out the window. But, as usual, he answered it.
"Hello?"
"Hey! What the hell's goin' on over there? You give my number to someone?"
"Good morning to you, too," Ramon muttered. "I didn't give it to 'em. They spied on me. Found my phone records."
"Aw, hell. I'll get a new number today."
"And they also found Elsa's daughter. She told Victor about you calling me."
Henry sighed. "Well, I guess that got him all riled up, huh?"
"Yes. And now Armando's here. He really wants to talk to you. I can't hold 'em off much longer."
"Shit!" Henry whispered under his breath for a moment. "Well, what'd you tell 'em?"
Ramon snorted. "Nothing. Except that even if they spoke to you it didn't mean they'd get any answers." His voice got quiet. "I sure as hell haven't gotten any."
Henry let out a long sigh. "I know, I know."
Ramon waited for a longer response, then finally said, "That's all?" He groaned. "They're probably gonna try to find you in person if you don't talk to 'em."
In an urgent tone, he asked, "Is that what they said?"
"No, but that's how they are." Ramon sighed. "Come on. Just answer a few questions. It'll shut everyone up and we can go back to our normal lives again." But his stomach lurched. He knew Henry's answers could change their lives forever.
Henry said, "I'll be back in town before Victor's wedding."
"That's what you said about Armando's wedding."
"I know, but I mean it this time. Kinda itchin' to see my ranch again."
You mean, my ranch, Ramon thought. But he kept his comment to himself. "I'll let 'em know that. But if you go back on your word this time, I'm gonna help 'em find you."
"All right."
And then Henry hung up.
Ramon rolled his window down and drew his hand back, prepared to hurl his phone outside. He knew damn well he wasn't going to, but the idea of it made him feel a little better.
* * *
Later that evening, when Ramon came home, he drove straight to the trailer with no intention of setting foot inside that house. His day had been long and stressful. To make it worse, he found hints of Marcy everywhere. Her delicate handwriting, leaving notes for herself. Even the hint of her sensual perfume lingering in the desk chair. Mrs. Perry asked where she was and Ramon had to tell her it didn't work out and Marcy wouldn't be there again. She responded with a deep frown and said, "I'm so sorry, dear. I could tell you really liked her."
He now felt like such a damn fool for taking Marcy over there at all.
Ramon parked his truck and did his usual walking inspection of the ranch. He spent a few minutes chatting with Joe and the ranch hands, which took his mind off his troubles for a little while.
And then he went to the trailer. He had just popped a frozen dinner into the microwave when he heard a knock at the door, then Patty's voice.
"Hello! Ramon!" Her knock got louder. "Hola! Rrraaamon!"
The second time she said his name, he laughed at her hilarious inability to roll an R. He hadn't heard her attempt that in a few weeks.
She knocked repeatedly until he opened the door and looked at her through the screen.
"Hola," he said in a flat tone.
With an air of shyness, Patty's head dipped down and she bent to lift a picnic basket from the floor. "I made those tamales you like."
Ramon sighed. At least she wasn't begging him to go to the house for dinner. "All right. Leave the basket. I'll get it in a minute."
"No, no, no." Patty shook her head and pulled the basket away like she had withdrawn her offer. "You have to invite me in."
"Tamales with a price, huh? Is it just you? No surprises?"
Patty glanced over her shoulder. "Unless someone followed me, and I don't think they did."
Ramon grunted and rolled his eyes, then reluctantly opened the door. "Fine."
Patty squealed as she walked inside. "I knew you couldn't resist!"
Ramon shut the door behind her and locked it. She immediately went to the kitchen where she put the basket on the counter.
In minutes, spicy aromas filled the room. She set up a nice dinner for him at the head of the table, complete with a cold bottle of his favorite beer. When the microwave timer sounded, she furrowed her brows and turned it off, then said to him, "None of that for you." She rushed back to the dining area and pulled a chair out from the table, gesturing for him to take a seat. "My children eat real food for dinner if I can help it."
Ramon flashed her a half-smile as he walked up to her. "I don't see how your daughter marrying my brother makes me your child."
Patty pursed her lips and reached up to pinch his cheek. "Family's what you make it. And you're the son I never had, whether you like it or not."
Ramon pressed his lips together to keep himself from smiling at her heartwarming gesture, desperate to hold on to the remnants of his icy facade. "All right." He let out a labored groan and unenthusiastically added, "Mom."
Patty's face lit up and she gave him a quick hug. "There we go!"
When she released him, he took a seat at the table and picked up his fork.
Patty sat in a chair beside him.
He gave her a curious look, then shoved a bite of food in his mouth.
She watched him eat for a little while, then said, "So, you're gonna stay out here in the trailer for a while?"
Chewing, he covered his mouth and said, "Yep."
"Hmm." Patty nodded. "So, do I need to tell Marcy to come out here and clean? After all, it's her job."
Ramon put his fork on his plate, finished chewing, and looked her straight in the eye. "You brought all this food out here just so you could say that, didn't you?"
"No. It's just a question. She asked me about it today and she knows better than to try to ask you herself."
"Please don't talk to me about her right now. Let me have a nice dinner in peace. It's been a long day." He took a swig of his beer, then asked, "But while we're on that subject, you told me last week that she was like your daughter. So, if I'm like your son, isn't that kinda incestuous?"
With a wry grin, she said, "Well, that's why it's convenient that we're not blood relatives, don't ya think?"
Ramon rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I don't wanna hear about her anymore. She can do the job Victor's paying her to do but I'll act like she's not here. It'll make it easier for both of us."
"You're being too hard on her."
"No, I'm not. She looked into my eyes and lied to me, Patty. About the same shit I specifically told her not to tell anyone. That's the worst thing about it." He lifted his fork. "I'm done with her."
Patty sighed, her eyes flashing around the room as she tapped the table with her fingernails. "Oh, Ramon." She watched him take a few bites, then said, "Have I told you the story about Christmas with my great aunt Doris?"
Ramon raised a skeptical brow and covered his mouth, "I don't think so."
She smiled and patted his arm. "Well, let me tell you about it."
He knew this story would probably contain a moral about him somewhere. But he really did like those tamales, and he knew it would be unnecessarily rude to tell her to shut up. So, he simply continued eating.
"So," Patty started, "it was Christmas Eve. Cara was six. My husband and I let great aunt Doris talk us into having dinner at her house in Yonkers with some of the other relatives. Her mind was failing a little but sometimes she could be a lot of fun. We just couldn't leave her alone with Cara for long because I was afraid she'd give her liquor." Patty cleared her throat. "Anyway, we were all gathered in the living room exchanging gifts. Nobody noticed Doris had left the room until we all heard a loud crash. That's when we realized she was gone."
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Ramon nodded and shoveled more food in his mouth.
Patty continued. "Well, long story short, Doris limps into the room holding her head. Says she fell off a ladder in the basement when she climbed up to get a present she hid way up there on a shelf. And then she starts yelling at everyone, accusing them of stealing it." Patty grimaced. "Called us all a bunch of names. Cursed like a sailor. I had to cover little Cara's ears."
Ramon chuckled and took another bite.
"And then," Patty said, "my cousin Bert noticed a trail of blood on the floor behind her."
Ramon's eyes widened a little but he kept chewing.
Patty said, "She was bleeding from her head and her hip. And everyone kept telling her but she wouldn't listen. She just stomped on into the living room and plopped down on her old recliner. Thank God it was covered in plastic. Blood everywhere."
Ramon covered his mouth and asked, "So, what'd you do?"
Patty shrugged. "Bert went to the bedroom and called an ambulance and didn't tell her about it. Turns out she'd hurt herself pretty badly. Lost a lot of blood. The paramedics said she was in shock."
"Hmm." Ramon nodded and took a drink of his beer.
"And she was hopping mad when they arrived. When she found out Bert called the ambulance she started cursing again. Tried to hit him with a candlestick."
Ramon swallowed. "Was she all right?"
Patty frowned. "For a while. She died the next year but that's another story." She cleared her throat and gave him a stern look. "The point I'm trying to make is this: sometimes a person doesn't know when they're hurt and bleeding. But thank God there are people around who are willing to call the paramedics."
Ramon gave her a massive eye roll and set his beer down on the table with a thunk. "Okay, I sat through your long, boring story. Now get out of my trailer."
"It was neither long, nor boring." She smirked.
Ramon picked up his fork and stabbed at his food. "You're comparing me to your old, senile aunt, right?"