****
Rafa chewed gingerly on his medium rare steak and listened as his mother chatted about everything and everyone. Not much had changed in the lives of the people she knew. The old neighborhood remained the same; even this steak restaurant — one of his mother’s favorites — was still as packed as he’d always remembered. Truth was, he had returned several times to the East Coast over the last decade but never stayed longer than a day or two. Usually he was passing by, either traveling with friends or attending specialized training. He never mustered the courage to see his mother, though. Couldn’t stomach the rejection he knew she'd reap on him when she saw his face. She laughed while retelling a story about something a friend of hers from church had said. Rafa smiled. No rejection: just love, peace, and acceptance.
“Have I told you how happy I am to have you home, hijo?”
“Many times, Mamá. But you don’t have to stop saying it.”
His mother glowed with pride. Emotion choked in his throat. The pride was for him. Despite all he had done wrong, he still made her proud. “Mamá, I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“For what, hijo?” She placed a tiny, chilled hand on his, worry lines creasing her brow.
“For everything. Everything I ever did, everything I ever said or didn’t say.”
Tears lined the lids of his mother’s eyes. “No, my son.”
“I was awful to you. I was—” He dropped his gaze to the table, blinking away the hot sting in the back of his eyes. “Can you please forgive me?” He had agonized over his mother’s denial. Despite the warm reception the other day, she still might remember his dismissal of her and decide to change her mind. His stomach knotted at the thought.
She called often enough when he first moved out to California. In the beginning, he wouldn’t answer the phone or return her calls. Being forced to leave home at eighteen angered him. Then he considered his older brother Alejandro. Ale decided to live with their mother’s father in Texas. In the first year after Ale left, he had contacted Rafa, saying he enjoyed life. It was freedom. No parents, no rules. So when their mother had told Rafa it was time for him to move out, he chose California, but he and his mother didn't part well.
Did she remember his words to her? He wouldn’t repeat them now. He had hurled hate, spewed curses, and promised to never return. He gazed up, searching his mother’s eyes. They showed neither sadness nor regret. No anger or resentment laced her tone. Instead, she grinned widely at him, her hands warming as they gripped his, her voice as cheerful and as loving as he had always remembered.
She wiped a tear off her round cheek. “Oh, mi hijo, I forgave you so long ago. I knew God would bring you back to me and He has.” Her smile was filled with gratitude and love. “Nothing you did could ever take away the love I have for you.”
Tears of joy continued to well in her eyes and stream down her cheeks. Those tears caused his throat to thicken, the muscles in his jaw to tremble, and his heart to swell with love for the woman who’d endured more than her fair share of pain from the men in her life. She laughed joyously, as she patted her eyes dry with a napkin.
“How do you do it?”
Her brows bunched in confusion. “Do what, hijo?”
Rafa took a sip of his soda, loosening the rigid walls of his throat. “Survive. What me and my brother Alejandro did… and Ricardo—”
“Enough,” she stated firmly, but her eyes still smiled. “I’m still praying for Alejandro — Dios help that boy — and little Ricardo, but I have so much joy, more joy over you now than the day you were born, and I never thought anything than the birth of you three could be better. But now that you have come home, my heart is so full.”
Rafa chuckled. “You might have to wait awhile for Ale and Ric.”
Alejandro was older than Rafa by two years and equally rebellious. Nearly fifteen years later, Ale remained away. Soon after Rafa began walking a better path, he attempted to reach out to his older brother, but Alejandro’s phone had been disconnected. The family knew little of his location and profession. He left their grandfather’s residence not long after arriving in Texas and didn't make it a habit to keep in regular contact.
Ricardo. At almost two years younger than Rafa, on Ric’s eighteenth birthday, he was shipped to Florida. A few years back, the family heard Ric had entered the service, possibly with the Marines. A solid choice for the younger and impressionable brother. At least two out of three Santiago men turned out okay, even though no one had heard from Ricardo in a few years.
His mother sighed and sat back in the booth, her eyes revealing the weariness of years of pain and prayers. “I know, I know. Sometimes I feel they will not return to me, but I must believe they will. So many are praying for your brothers.”
“As am I.” But he didn’t possess her level of confidence. Although he had more hope for Ricardo, Rafa never knew anyone more bullheaded than Alejandro… except maybe Genie.
Rafa smiled at the way his mother rubbed her round belly. She pulled a compact out of her purse, reapplied her signature red lipstick, and puffed her head of curls. She snapped the compact shut and placed it back in her purse. She folded her small hands on her belly. Rafa’s grin grew.
“Did you know Eugenia Green is single?”
Rafa blinked. “What?”
“She’s single.” His mother’s eyes twinkled with mischief.
“What a shock.”
“Very smart, that girl,” his mother continued as if she hadn’t heard his sarcasm. “And she’s active in the church. Or at least she was. I know she’s busy with work. Oh! You should see her with the children!”
Rafa bit back a smile. Genie with children? Now that was a sight he’d like to see. His mind began playing tricks on him, and he could imagine her having children, a little girl with as much will to match her mother. His cheeks heated from the mental picture, and he filed it away. He took a sip of his ice-packed soda to cool the burn. His mother would notice and then ask whether he was thinking of Genie. He didn’t want to lie.
Instead, he focused on his mother. Never before had he seen her as a matchmaker. She popped a forgotten French fry in her mouth and smiled innocently. Didn’t she remember the number of girls he used to bring home? She caught him more than once with one in his bedroom. And now here she sat, her grin revealing her secret wish. “What are you saying, Mamá?”
“Oh, nothing. I’m just talking. I know you two are working together. How is that going?”
“Couldn’t be better,” he said dryly. Well, their relationship had begun to improve. For a brief moment in the car earlier at Diego Cera’s house, Rafa and Genie had connected. He knew she harbored some secret pain and she hadn’t lashed out when he mentioned it. She promised to handle it. Whatever it was, she needed help, and as her partner he'd support her. If she wanted him to. But that required trust, and Genie had made it clear she didn’t trust him.
“There should be no reason for the two of you not to get along. You have so much in common.” She wagged her brows. “Take it from your mamá, you shouldn’t let a woman like that get away.”
Rafa playfully rolled his eyes. He took a long sip of water to avoid participating in this present line of conversation when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He had a text from the department. Thank God. Work was a safer topic of discussion and thought. Then he read the text. His stomach flipped. He needed to get over to Genie’s house, immediately.
Chapter Seven
Rafael (The Santiago Brothers Book One) Page 14
