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“What’s wrong?” she says worriedly.
“Nothing, Mama.”
“Marco. I know you. Please tell me…” she says.
I almost want to. I want to tell her everything, let it all pour out of me in the sticky mess that it is. But I can’t. Even though my mother had her heart attack a year ago, and has tried to convince me she’s fine, I still worry about her. I don’t want to stress her out. I don’t want to worry her. And all this would just break her.
It makes me want to hate Erica even more for denying my mother a chance at being a grandmother. She won’t get that chance with Josie, and I can’t tell her what she’s missing out on. It would break her heart.
“It’s nothing. Really. Just work, which is why I’m getting away for a few days to the Hamptons house.”
She is quiet for a moment, as if she’s trying to determine if she believes me or not.
“Okay,” she says. “I’m glad you’re getting away. You’re too stressed, mijo.”
“I know. Do you want to come? I can send a car for you.”
“Oh, no, no. I have bridge club tomorrow and am helping out at the library bake sale.”
“Mama, you do too much,” I say, frustrated.
“And you worry too much,” she challenges me.
I laugh softly. She’s stubborn. Just like me.
“I’ll call you tomorrow. Okay, Mama?”
“Te amo, Marco.”
“Te amo, Mama.”
I hang up and turn it ondo not disturbmode, only allowing calls from my mother or the hospital to come through. I want to be completely unplugged from work and if there’s any chance that Erica might try to get in touch about her reassignment. Or our fight. If that’s what you could call it.
A little while later, my town car pulls onto a dirt road lined by large, smooth rocks leading up to my house. It parks in front of the circular driveway and I climb out, stretching my body after the drive and breathing in the ocean air. I look up at the two-story house, white with blue trim and a wraparound upper deck. This is exactly where I need to be right now. I thank my driver and grab my suitcase, rolling it toward the front door.
I don’t unpack before I head out the back French doors toward the white sand beach that awaits just steps away. Outside, I take my shoes off and roll up the hem of my pants before stepping into the warm, soft sand. I wiggle my toes and admire the view of the ocean, gentle waves crashing against the shore. I walk toward it, finding a spot just out of reach of the wet, white foam, and taking a seat in the sand.
The beach is surprisingly empty for it being the last part of summer, but then again, it is a Monday. There is an elderly couple strolling the beach and a family down the way on my right setting up an umbrella and a few large towels. I lean back against my elbows and welcome the sun that warms my face as I watch the family set up for their beach day. I don’t know why my eyes are drawn to them.
The mother is pulling snacks from the cooler and handing juice boxes to her toddler, while cradling what looks to be a newborn baby, as the father wrestles to get the umbrella open. I smile as I watch them laugh at the father’s expense, who, despite his frustration, is doing his best and enjoying the laughter he’s getting from his family.
These are things I never would have noticed before. Would never have cared about. But now that I know that I have a daughter out there, it’s like something in me has changed. I’m a father. But I know I’ll never have what this family has. Their laughter. Their love. Their life void of secrets. Something in my heart aches over this.
I look away from them and out at the water. I have to accept that I won’t ever be a part of Josie’s life. I will have to pretend that she doesn’t exist. That I don’t know about her. It’s what Erica wants, anyway. She’s made that clear by keeping her from me.
Besides, it’s not like I know the first thing about being a father. Maybe it’s best I keep my distance. I wouldn’t want to screw anything up. Plus, if I had to tell my mother everything, it would only hurt her to know she missed crucial years with her granddaughter and the fact that the mother and I don’t have arelationship anymore. Really, we never did. I can’t disappoint my mother like that.
I sigh and close my eyes. No, it’s best for everyone if I stay away. I’ll stay out of Josie’s life. Out of Erica’s life. I try not to hate her for it.
I pull myself from the sand and head inside to the small bar adjacent to the kitchen. If I’m going to be alone in this beautiful place with these ugly thoughts, I may as well have a drink. Or three. To dull my pain.
Chapter 27
Erica
Isit at my cubicle, trying to drown out the noise of the office around me. I didn’t have my own office for long, but I realize I’ve been spoiled by it now as I sit in my cubicle. It’s only the second day in my new position, and the work is already piling on. I remind myself that this is the job I wanted so badly last year, and now I have it. I give myself a nod of confidence as I go through the schedule of articles for the next week, choosing which ones are going to print and which ones aren’t. I’m also keeping up with my own column, which I feel like I haven’t given my full attention to in a while.
Working with Marco was stressful in its own way, but it was for personal reasons. The job itself wasn’t too hard. I was like his second assistant. Now, as I’m drowning in emails with questions and articles writers are begging to be printed, I need to get back to who I once was. The Erica who started at this paper, willing to do anything and everything to get it up off the ground.