Bella

by Lisa Samson

  But she was tired and laid her head on José’s shoulder. She slept a little more.

  Wide awake, José watched the scenery zip by his window. Nina breathed heavily, and when he looked down at her, he experienced a compassion like he’d never felt before and he understood something. He understood how his family felt when he was in trouble all those years ago, how much they yearned to make things right, to do what they could.

  In a way, his failure to move on informed them their affection, their caring, was wasted on him.

  Lucinda’s not coming back, he thought. But I can live my life, do something good for a change, and honor her death that way. Anything else would be a waste.

  An idea came to mind.

  Would Nina go for it? He doubted it, but maybe he’d convince her.

  He looked over at Nina, her dark lashes soft crescents against her pale cheeks. She’d create a beautiful baby, he realized.

  The train pulled into Penn Station as the dawn grayed the sky. He nudged her. “We’re here.”

  José took her hand and they stepped off the train, up the stairs, and onto the streets of the city near Nina’s apartment.

  She pointed the way, and he accompanied her as the city awakened to another typical day, another turn of the living clock, another dance of people leading and being led, and somehow, despite all the heartache, they all went on, not so much because they had to, but because there was nothing else imaginable. So much possibility, so little creativity, considering.

  As they waited for the Walk signal, Nina reached into her bag and pulled out the scarf she’d purchased the day before. She pressed it into his hand. “Here, I want you to keep it.” In a way, she looked like a medieval princess handing off her handkerchief to the winner of the tournament. José was no knight in shining armor, he realized, but he hoped he had treated her in kind, with dignity and respect.

  “Oh. Thank you.”

  She laid a hand on his arm and squeezed. Her eyes seemed to say, Look at me, please. “You’re gonna come with me to the appointment, right?”

  José didn’t know what to say. How could he go someplace with her where he thought . . . and yet, she was his friend.

  She removed her hand, shaking her head. “You know what—don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll call you.” He looked into her eyes. “I’ll call you, okay?” And he reached out.

  Nina felt connected to him in that embrace. She knew José meant what he said, that truly, for the first time in many years, somebody was willing to actually put himself out for her. It felt strange, and she wasn’t sure what to think about being the scrappy person she’d become. But she remembered the waves telling her to be and she heard one more message in the whizzing of the cabs and buses: wait.

  Okay then. But not too long. Time is not on my side.

  They parted ways. Nina turned toward her building, José back to the station.

  Nina stopped in at the drugstore, bought a soda, and made small talk with Carla, who, she found out, had two kids. Her husband worked down at the docks, and she worked this job to put them in the nearby parochial school.

  “That’s nice,” Nina said.

  “Oh, you’ll do anything for your kids to give ’em a fighting chance,” she said.

  Nina was thankful she was discreet enough to not mention the test kit she’d bought yesterday.

  Only yesterday? It didn’t seem possible.

  So Nina headed up the steps to her apartment. She put on a little Nina Simone, threw on sweats and a T-shirt, and picked up her book. The weekend sat before her, lonely and filled with a whole lotta nothin’. But Monday she’d call Frannie at the new restaurant, and she’d be working soon enough.

  She figured Frannie would be just as difficult as Manny, but she was doing a good turn for her friend, José, and maybe that would make all the difference.

  Maybe she’d call home. Maybe some relationships were worth the bearing of the burden. She only had one mother, and sure, she was far from perfect, but did she deserve to lose a daughter because she couldn’t move beyond losing the love of her life?

  The answer to that didn’t matter. Nina decided to wait, however, until after the baby situation was behind her.

  Nineteen

  José approached El Callejon as Manny was unlocking the door. He couldn’t wait to run his plan by Manny and see what he thought. Manny, of all people, would understand the importance of it.

  Manny pushed open the door without a word. A new, stainless-steel pot caught the early morning sun. He motioned for José to enter. He held up the shiny pot and handed it to his brother.

  He straightened himself and looked around.

  José loved his brother. He loved that Manny couldn’t apologize with his mouth but never failed to try to make amends when he went too far. José raised the pot, nodded.

  Apology accepted.

  They began their usual routine, no mention of the previous day’s fi ring, no mention of the harsh words, the accusations. They were brothers, and José knew that with Manny sometimes words could be taken back. They had to be.

  He set a pan to heat on the stove, to make a little breakfast for himself and Manny. He scrambled eggs, then cooked tomatoes, onions, and chiles down to a concentrated sauce and spooned them over the eggs. Some sliced avocado, and yes, this was good.

  Manny offered him a pot; José offered food.

  Manny stepped into the work area for just a second. “I talked with my accountant last night. Pepito and the kitchen are getting a raise. We can talk about how much.”

  José looked up in surprise. “Good.” And began chopping onions. Best not to make a big deal about it.

  A few minutes later, plates in hand, he entered the bar area where Manny sat drinking a glass of tomato juice, looking over paperwork.

  José shoved the paperwork aside and set a plate before Manny, a fork and a napkin. He sat down in front of his own meal, folded his hands, and offered up a prayer, not just of thankfulness, but because of what he had to say to his brother. He crossed himself and picked up his fork, elbowing Manny.

  Manny elbowed back.

  Then José.

  Then Manny.

  José snaked back his arm around Manny’s shoulders, and Manny reared forward in a fierce hug, drawing his brother to him tightly. He squeezed and then let go.

  “Enough!” Manny cleared his throat and they set back to breakfast.

  “Let’s talk about the Salmon Norteño, the special I want to come up with: asparagus, mushroom, cactus, throw in some avocado, mango—”

  José stilled him, holding up a hand. He whispered his idea into his brother’s ear.

  Manny drew back, eyes wide. “You’re gonna do what?”

  Twenty

  Five and a half years later.

  José watched her play on the beach, the surf rolling in with a calm rhythm that day, the sky, streaks of gray with slivers of silver sun, overhead. She skipped in the sand, her bare feet soaking in the cold ocean foam as the water sought the shore over and over again. Always coming, always in the same way.

  He’d dressed her that morning in her favorite red skirt that now rippled like a flag in the same wind that reached down and snatched in a twirling grasp her flyaway brown pigtails. The way she concentrated on the seashells, it seemed like she’d forgotten him sitting farther up the shore on the soft sand, but every so often she’d pick up a shell or some driftwood and raise it up for him to see. It had been easy to name her once she arrived. Bella. Beautiful. The entire family rallied around him the day he brought her home from the hospital, clueless and thinking he must have been crazy to have taken all this on his shoulders.

  And Nina, she turned away, crying, as he and Bella slid into Manuel’s sedan, Maria in the front seat, reaching back to tuck a soft white blanket around the newborn baby girl.

  He left the city that day for good, moved back home, and opened up José’s Place, a little eatery that specialized in the food he’d learned to ma
ke at home. Just a few tables, and the patrons who came again and again learned to expect Bella to be around. More than one person said, “You need to name this place Bella’s.”

  “You’re right about that,” José would say.

  It was a great life, watching her grow, taking Bella to Eduardo’s wedding to the fair Veronica when she was three and last year to the opening of Manny’s second restaurant. Both uncles adored her, Eduardo always buying fashionable clothing for his niece, something José was grateful for; Manny, having bought her a horse, already planning out her education as well.

  And he loved this child. He never knew how much a person could love someone. And even as his purpose was set before him and she filled his loneliness, he understood even more deeply what Celia had lost when Lucinda was killed beneath the wheels of his car.

  Which he sold the week after Nina said yes to his proposition: you give this baby life, Nina, and I’ll make sure she has a good one from there on out.

  He was doing his best to deliver on that promise.

  Two other girls joined up with Bella, the small one carrying a big yellow bucket to match her blonde hair, the other, dark curls wiggling in the wind, sporting a billowy, dark blue shirt. They all knelt down to examine shells. José looked at his watch. She would be arriving soon. Bella asked to meet her mother for her fifth birthday, and Nina said she’d show up once she had a break.

  José was surprised. They’d agreed it was best for her to get on with her life, for Bella’s sake. An in-and-out mother wasn’t something either José or Nina wanted for their daughter.

  But Bella was insistent.

  Everybody in the family tried to explain that this wasn’t something that would last, that Nina was part of a traveling production, dancing all over the world in 42nd Street, “a sparkly, beautiful Broadway show,” José told Bella.

  So far Bella didn’t hold Nina’s absence against her, and José promised himself he’d do his best to make sure she never did. But in the end, that was up to Bella.

  The parents of the two little girls approached the group gathered by the surf. They seemed to be tourists, not residents who were just snatching a few minutes on the beach before work or school pickup. “Come on, girls!” the mother called.

  The father looked up at him, and José knew exactly what he thought, scruffy-bearded guy on the beach, hippie shirt, drawstring pants. He probably wouldn’t trust himself either if he didn’t know him!

  He couldn’t help but smile. He’d been threatening to shave off his beard for some time but never seemed to get around to it. They were just too busy, and fatherhood proved to be more than just getting the little one dressed in the morning and a bedtime kiss. No, there was a lot of life to be lived in the in-between.

  “Bella!” he called. “Come get your shoes on!”

  Nina pulled Bubbles out of her bag as she sat in the cab. She couldn’t believe this was really the right thing to do, but José thought it would be all right, and she had learned, if nothing else in the past five years, to trust his judgment.

  Maria called her and assured her the family would be waiting with opened arms. But as much as she longed to be folded in the soft arms of José’s mother, she only agreed to meet Bella alone, with José.

  But she had Bubbles with the blue scarf around its neck to comfort her. She lifted it to her mouth and kissed it, feeling sorry for it still, the poor thing. Red yarn held the arm she’d yanked off years ago back in place. She kissed it again, thankful he had fallen out of her backpack, thankful for Bella, for José, for the way her life had been turned around by the act of growing a baby, of giving birth, of giving someone a chance.

  Life changed after that. You give birth, you can do anything! She hit the pavement again, found a studio that let her dance in exchange for whatever they needed. She mopped, answered phones, fetched carryout. It was worth it.

  She worked at Frannie’s, who, yes, was extremely demanding, but fair, and two years after Bella was born, she was hired for 42nd Street’s traveling production. She’d been on the road ever since, save holidays and time off, which she spent in Philadelphia with her mother or just driving around the countryside. She gave up her apartment in the city after the show hit the road, and she didn’t shed a tear for that ratty old place. In fact, she wondered how she had stood it for so long.

  Thank God Bella came along and shook her up.

  She’d needed a good shaking up.

  And now, she couldn’t walk away again. She knew that. When she said yes to Bella’s request, she said yes to much more than an hour or two. That frightened her, but as much as José’s family could rally around Bella, once she entered her life, there could only be one mother, and Nina was it.

  José walked toward the shore. He didn’t know why he called for Bella to come get her shoes on. It appeared the love of the beach was genetic, because Bella loved standing by the waves, listening to the surf, digging her toes in the sand as much as Nina did. They’d found themselves on Long Island a great deal during the pregnancy, walking along the sand or just sitting, staring at the surf.

  He ran along beside Bella now and she fl ed, laughing, her pale face full-on in the wind.

  He scooped her up and she laughed harder, squealing, “Daddy!”

  He buried his face into her neck, shaking his head back and forth. Maria had given her a bath before they came, and she smelled of bubblegum shampoo, rose perfume, and the salty air. It was Bella’s smell, and he breathed it in.

  They ran some more on the sand, doing cartwheels and looking for that final shell. There it sat. A small conch. Unusual this far north. She picked it up.

  “You can always take a piece of the ocean with you,” he said as they walked toward the street.

  “How?”

  “Well, when you take a seashell home, you put it right to your ear and you can hear the ocean. You wanna try it?”

  “Sure.”

  Grabbing her underneath her arms, he scooped her up and onto the wall separating the beach from the street. “Okay, one . . . two . . . three . . .”

  She put the shell to her ear. “I can’t hear it, Dad.”

  He sat down next to her. “Ah, well, you’re at the ocean. But when you leave the ocean, then you can hear it.”

  She held up the shell again. Waited. “I can hear it now!”

  He smiled. “You can hear it now, eh?”

  He took her foot and twisted on the pink canvas sneaker. Compliments of Eduardo. Aunt Veronica probably had something to do with it as well.

  Next foot. Good.

  Her little dress blew in the breeze, and he lifted a scarf out of his pocket. A white scarf with sea-blue designs. He figured this was the time to bring out what was once her mother’s. Nina would appreciate the gesture. José had most certainly defended her honor.

  He tied it around her head. “Wow!” He whistled, just like he did in the bazaar to Nina years before.

  “How do I look?” Bella asked.

  “You look beautiful.” Definitely more beautiful than Helen.

  He sat back down next to her. “You sure about this?”

  She nodded. “I know it’s just for today, Dad. Don’t worry.”

  He barked out a laugh. He couldn’t help himself. “Has Grandmother Maria been talking to you?”

  “Grandpapa.”

  “All right, then. Are you scared?”

  She nodded.

  “Me too.” He took her hands. “I used to get very scared right before a game.” He patted his stomach. “I’d get butterflies right here.”

  Bella laughed. “You had butterflies inside of you?”

  “Used to.” He ran the backs of his fingers over her windblown cheek. “Like big wings flapping inside me. Much less since you were born. You feel like that?”

  She nodded. “A little.”

  “You know what Grandma did for me and Uncle Manny when we got scared?”

  Bella opened her mouth in shock. “Uncle Manny gets scared?”

  José
laughed. “We all get scared sometimes. Even Uncle Manny. Grandma would plug our ears so that nothing bad would get inside our heads. It would keep us safe and the butterflies would go away. She called it ‘magic fingers.’ ”

  “Really? Magic?”

  “Yes. All moms and dads have them. So. Can I plug your ears?”

  “Okay.”

  He gently closed her ears with his forefingers. “Okay, now shut your eyes.”

  She did and he counted to ten. “There. Now you plug mine.”

  He leaned in as she returned the favor, her face sober and hopeful. “All right. Now close your eyes, Dad.”

  After ten seconds he opened his eyes and shook his head a little. “Ah, much better. You feel it? You feel better?”

  She nodded. “Is she going to live with us?”

  “I don’t know. But I know she’s going to be so glad to meet you.”

  The cab pulled up. This was it.

  “Here she comes, Bella. Let’s go.” He slid off the wall and lifted Bella down.

  Nina climbed out of the taxi, her face pale.

  José waved, and a smile, that beautiful smile mirrored on the face of his daughter, split her face.

  Bella looked at him and he nodded, then she turned back to Nina as she approached. Nina’s mouth fell open in awe and she patted the tears away that had spilled onto her cheeks.

  Nina knelt down and took Bella’s hand. “Do you know who I am?”

  “You’re my mama.”

  A sob escaped Nina and she laughed as she cried. Joy mixed in with the tears. She opened her bag and pulled out that teddy bear from years gone by.

  “I brought this for you.” She held it out.

  Bella stared at her, then looked at José. He nodded to tell her it was all right.

  She took the bear and brought it close to her chest.

  “This was the last gift my father gave to me,” Nina said.

  “Thank you.”

  Bella hugged the bear and ran her chin along its head. She handed Nina the shell in return.

  “Thank you,” Nina said.