Because of You

by Laura Ward

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Ricky

  “ARE YOU OK?”

  “What happened at home? Let me know you’re all right.”

  Shaking my head, I checked my phone for the hundredth time since class let out before going into my kitchen. I’d called three times and texted twice. No response. My gut twisted, worry coursing through me. Please call, mariposa. Call me.

  “Hola, Mama.” I kissed my mother’s wrinkled cheek and pulled out a kitchen chair. She stirred some soup on the stove, ladling a large helping into a bowl and placing it in front of me.

  “Teresa made this for dinner, Ricardo. Eat up and enjoy.” After serving me, Mom sat down, rifling through the mail and sipping on a mug of tea.

  I scarfed the soup down. Scraping the last bits from the bowl, I sat back, belly full, but my mind anything but content. “Mama, I have to tell you some bad news.”

  She sat back, her wrinkled face pinched. “Go on.”

  “Ed’s closing the bike shop. By the end of the month, I’ll be out of a job. I’m sorry. I know how much we need that money.” I rubbed the back of my neck, hoping to ease the tension that pulsed and pounded through my body.

  Her lips flattened, her gaze lingering on a stack of overdue bills. “We’ll make do. We always find a way.”

  Stretching my legs in front of me, I crossed my arms over my chest. “Actually, I have a different idea. I’ve been thinking through this for a while and I acted on it recently.”

  Mama waited, eyebrows raised. I hesitated but decided the only way to say this was fast, ripping off the proverbial Band-Aid quickly in hopes of it hurting less.

  “My friend Aveline, who I brought here, and you met, is the girl Papa saved from drowning.” I blurted it out, holding my breath and waiting for her reaction.

  She nodded, her face impassive. “Ah, that is why she was good to your Papa.”

  Um, that was it? That was the least dramatic response ever. Who needed the Band-Aid approach?

  “No.” I shook my head. “She doesn’t know that Papa is the one who saved her.”

  “What?” Mama’s eyes rounded, and she sat ramrod straight. This was the reaction I expected in the first place.

  “I found out during our psychology class. She was called to the front of the class to talk about a traumatic event.”

  Mama nodded, encouraging me to go on.

  “I’d been talking to my friends about trying to find the girl Papa had saved for about a year.” Mama’s eyes widened again, her jaw dropping open.

  I quickly continued. “When I realized it was her, I followed her out of class. She’s very rich, Mama.”

  Her wide eyes narrowed. “So?”

  I reared back in my chair. “So? So how is that fair? We’re poor, barely making it by and the girl Papa saved is rich. Her parents are rich. Her parents, the ones that should have saved her. Not my Papa.” My voice was brittle, my words spit out with pent-up anger and venom.

  “What did you do, Ricardo?” Mama asked, her head cocked to the side, hand over her heart.

  Heat ignited on my face and neck, raging like an out of control wildfire. Where was her solidarity? Her anger? Her desire for revenge? “At first, I decided to get to know her so that I could meet her parents. My plan was to go to them and demand they help us as pay back for saving their daughter’s life. But as I got to know Aveline, I realized she was special. I didn’t want her to get hurt, so I never told her.”

  Mama sat forward, her body leaning closer to me. “You got to know her and never told her your connection?”

  I swallowed hard, a boulder forming in my throat. “No, I kept it from her. And then I texted her parents anonymously, demanding money for Papa.”

  Mama gasped, her hands in prayer formation over her mouth.

  “As soon as I sent the texts, I got scared. She wouldn’t want to be with me if she knew the truth. I wanted to keep her safe from my intentions because her heart is pure. Now, I love her, and I’m afraid I’ll lose her when she finds out what I did.”

  Mama’s face dissolved into a look of adoration. “You love her?”

  I nodded, my voice clogged with emotion. “I do.”

  “You must go to her and ask for forgiveness. Now, Ricardo. Tonight.” Her body was straight again, her face determined.

  “Mama.” My eyebrows were drawn, neck craned. “Hold on. I don’t understand. What about the money for Papa? Don’t you want me to ask her parents for help?”

  Mama closed her eyes, her fingertips rubbing her forehead. “No, son. I don’t. And I should have never let you turn down your scholarship. You insisted, and we needed the money, but now you’re jaded and rough. You think the world owes you something.” She took my hands in hers. “Listen to me, please. The world owes you nothing. It owes me nothing. Your father and I came here from Peru to give you and your sisters a better life. You are living it. This poverty here is nothing like what we would have experienced back home. Now you go to college. You drive a motorcycle. Your sister will become a doctor. Your other sister will become whatever she wants. We have shelter, medical care, and food. We have each other. We aren’t rich son, but we are blessed.”

  I shook my head, tears burning my eyes. “Mama, what about Papa? What about his life? It’s not fair. I never had a father. You missed out. We all missed out. Because of someone else’s negligence.”

  Mama stood up, moving around the table. She pulled me up and out of my chair. “I wish you would have talked to me about this anger inside you long ago. I would have told you that your father and I carry none of it. One thing I know, to the depths of my soul, is the man your father is. Ricardo, God in all his glory above gave us the ultimate gift. He gave us free will. Your father, on a sunny summer day, exercised that free will and dove in a lake to save a young girl. He got terribly hurt, yes, but he lived. I know his life has been a loss to you, but if given the choice, I know with all that I am he would make the same choice. He would save that child again.”

  A lone tear ran down my cheek. The last time I felt tears rolling down my cheeks was on the day of my father’s accident.

  “And I know the man you are. You would save the life of a child too. Do I wish that he could have saved Aveline and not been hurt? Of course. Do I wish I could give you, your father, and the girls more? A nicer home, clothes, schools, therapies? Of course. But I cannot waste away my life on wishes. I believe that God will reward your father. In some ways, he already has. Your father’s brain works perfectly. He and I communicate through our eyes. He has had the privilege of watching you three kids grow. He used his free will. He made a choice. The right one.”

  She took in a shaky breath and continued. “Now think about Aveline’s parents. They used free will that day too. I don’t know what happened, but they weren’t paying attention to her when she fell in. That was free will. They had to watch a stranger save their daughter because of that choice. Don’t you think that haunts them to this day? Wouldn’t that be a punishment in and of itself?”

  My mind raced with all of this knowledge—faith, love, and sorrow warred. Thoughts I had never had and never processed. “And now you have free will, Ricardo. You must choose to do the right thing. Be honest. Apologize. Love her and hope she loves you. But she has her own free will and she will decide the course of her life and her heart.”

  She kissed my cheeks, wiping away my tears with her thumbs. “Leave here and fight for who you love, knowing that I harbor no anger for an accident. I get to see the man I love every day and know he is a hero. And I have three beautiful, amazing children. Who needs money, mijo, when you have family and strength?”

  My tongue felt thick in my mouth. Had I really been wrong for so long? Had my anger taken over my life completely? I had my family. We were strong. And now I had my girl, my love.

  Forgive me. Remember that we are all that matters.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Aveline

  THE DOORBELL RANG, and Tobias ran down the hallway to ale
rt my parents. I sat in the pristine, white, unused living room, staring at the walls.

  A soft creamy shade I had often found stark before, was now soothing. Maybe because the questions in my mind whirled together like a raucous piece of abstract art, all red, yellow, and orange, so bright it made my brain hurt. The peaceful, plain white of the walls welcomed me with its simplicity.

  The doorbell rang again, and I stood.

  Ricky’s Dad had saved me from drowning all those years ago? Ricky’s Dad, a quadriplegic, unable to talk, feed himself, or do anything other than stare ahead had injured himself severely, saving me. I couldn’t quite process it.

  And Ricky had tried to blackmail my parents for money because of it? A sour taste filled my mouth. How could this be happening?

  The bell rang a third time and I walked to the foyer. My parents were upstairs, probably asleep at this late hour, and if they shut their door, Tobias would not be able to get to them.

  Pulling open the door, the dark night sky surrounded a face I thought I knew. But I didn’t. I didn’t know him at all.

  “Aveline.” Ricky stepped toward me, his hand outstretched, but I jolted back, creating needed distance.

  His eyebrows drew together, and he frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. My head was clogged, full of words and thoughts, but muddled so that I couldn’t see which ones to focus on and use.

  Ricky walked further into the foyer, shutting the door behind him. “Mariposa, why did you leave class today? What happened?”

  I watched him, the silent air beginning to tremble and grow until the sounds of tension and fear rang out, buzzing loudly in the space between us.

  “I know, Ricky. My mom researched you. I know who your dad is.” My voice was flat, the hurt pronounced in every cell of my body didn’t come from my vocal chords.

  Ricky’s face fell. “I was coming here to tell you that.”

  My lips curled, and I wrinkled my nose. “No more lies. You were not going to tell me.”

  His hand dragged roughly across the top of his head, each finger parting some of his smooth black hair as they scraped across his scalp. “I was. I talked to Mama tonight. She told me to come and tell you about Papa.”

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I planted my feet, staring him down. “I already know that your father is the man that saved my life. What I want to know is why you never told me? You were in class when I shared the story of my drowning. Did you know then?”

  Ricky looked down, studying the floor. “I’ve always known how my father became paralyzed.” His head was lowered as his eyes looked at me, a blank expression filling them. “I was there the day it happened. We all were, my familia. There was a big barbecue at the lake. Papa saw you drowning and dove in to save you. You were taken away in an ambulance before we learned your name. Not that it would have mattered. My family spoke no English at all back then.”

  My teeth ground together and my nails bit into the skin of my palms as I clenched them. “When I told that story in class you put two and two together and figured out it was me.”

  Ricky blinked slowly. “Yes, I did.”

  Tears filled my eyes. “And I remember seeing you that day after class. You followed me to the parking garage. When I looked, you were watching me, your eyes filled with hate.” I swallowed, my throat so tight it made my voice sound raspy. “You heard my story and hated me.”

  Ricky stepped closer to me, bending his knees and his neck to be on my level. “This is tough, little mariposa, but I need you to hear me out.”

  He waited, watching my reaction, but I was silent, holding my breath, fearful of his truths. “Never having met you, I hated your family for as long as I can remember.”

  My knees weakened, and Ricky grabbed my arms, holding me up. “Wrong, I now know. But we have always been poor. Very poor. Everything has been a struggle. And it made me enraged. Especially when I lost the chance to attend college and play ball. I focused on why. Why my family suffered so much saving someone else’s daughter. Why couldn’t her own parents have saved her? Why my dad?”

  I shook my head furiously, tears streaming down my cheeks. Ricky held onto me, pouring his words into my soul, hardening my heart with each horrible word he spoke.

  “I lost him. He’s here. He sits in that room, but he never saw one school recital, football game, or graduation. I missed out having a Dad, and while I’m so, so, so happy that your beautiful life was saved, I’m still sad at the loss of my father. Do you understand that?” Ricky’s voice was pleading, his eyes searching my face.

  The torrent of confusion made me lose my grip on reality. I shook my head yes and no repeatedly, unable to make up my mind.

  “That day in class, when I learned it was you that Papa had saved, and I followed you afterward, I saw that you were…” His voice trailed off and he looked away, unable to meet my eyes.

  Some bump of inner strength made me stand straight, pulling out of his arms. “I was what?” I asked, bracing for what I knew would only cause more pain.

  “Aveline,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut.

  “I was what?” I shrieked, my panic growing.

  He opened his eyes, but his face fell, losing all emotion, like he was steeling his heart for what my reaction might do to it. “Rich. I saw you were rich and thought I might be able to get your parents to help my family. I wanted some kind of payback for what we’ve been through.” His words were rushed, hard, painful to get out and excruciating to hear.

  I stumbled backward, hitting the sofa and falling into the seat. “You only got to know me, becoming study partners, friends, and… more, so that you could use me for information to blackmail my parents for money?” The words I spoke were hollow and brittle to my own ears, sounding like they could splinter and send shards of hurt and ache into the air.

  Ricky fell to his knees in front of me. “It sounds horrible, I know. I’m sorry. I focused on how sick Dad was and how angry I was, and that rage controlled my focus. Revenge for what happened in that accident took over my life for a long time.”

  Wiping my wet cheeks with my hands, I took a shuddering breath. “Why didn’t you tell me right away? Ask to meet my parents in person, tell them who you are, and demand their help?”

  Ricky nodded, a pained expression on his face. Swallowing, his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “That was the original plan. You, however, were not the plan.”

  “There was a plan?” I winced, my hand covering my mouth.

  “No, not really. I just… wanted to get your parents to admit that it was their fault you drowned. They messed up. They should have been watching you. And because of their negligence, my father stepped in, saved your life and for all intents and purposes, lost his.” Ricky put his hands on the sofa on either side of me, caging me in as he got closer. “As soon as I got to know you, I realized how sweet and innocent you were. I knew your life hadn’t been easy either and I wanted to do everything in my power to protect you from… me. That’s why I texted your mom and demanded money. I was trying to keep you out of it.” He looked away, clearing his throat. “I never anticipated falling in love. But I’m in love for the first time because of you. I love you so much. I would never have made love to you if I didn’t feel that way. Know that. Believe that.”

  I choked out a hard laugh. “Believe that? How can I ever believe anything you’ve ever said? It’s all been evasion and lies. All set up for some sort of twisted blackmail scheme. All because you think my parents are evil. Neglectful.” I shook my head, more tears streaming down my cheeks.

  Looking up, my parents stood in the threshold of the living room, clad in robes and slippers, their faces ashen, shoulders tight.

  I pushed Ricky away, stepping around him. He jumped to his feet, following me, but skidded to a halt when he saw my parents.

  “I’m okay,” I signed. “This is Ricky.”

  My dad shook his head. “You don’t look okay. Tell him to leave my hou
se.” Dad signed to me, a deep frown on his face.

  Mom looked back and forth watching our communication and studying Ricky. “What did he say? You’ve been crying,” Mom asked, her fingers flying in fear and nerves.

  “Give me one minute, Dad. Mom, I’ll fill you in tomorrow.” I looked each of them in the eye as I addressed their concerns.

  “These are my parents, Ricky. They’re both deaf. My dad has asked that you leave his house. My mom’s worried because I’m crying.” I signed as I spoke.

  Ricky jerked his head back, his eyebrows drawing together. “Your parents are deaf? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I ignored his question. I had something else to address. Choosing to speak and not sign at the same time was disrespectful to the deaf community. But this time I picked disrespect over cruelty.

  “The people you’ve spent your life hating and blaming for my accident are not the evil, selfish beings you believed them to be. And you would’ve known this if you had ever asked. If you could have been goddamn honest with me.” Heat crawled up my neck, the warmth of anger a welcome sensation compared to the cold shock I had been surrounded by.

  My hands flew out to the sides in a gesture of acceptance for the hell I now found myself drowning in. “I fell in that lake eighteen years ago while on a picnic with my deaf parents. They set up our food while I played on the grass next to them. I fell in the water and called for them, but they couldn’t hear my cries. I almost drowned because they couldn’t hear me call their names, Ricky. They realized I was missing and searched frantically, but they couldn’t communicate with anyone around them. Because of their hearing loss, they almost lost their child. I’m so sorry that your father was horribly injured saving me, but please know that if these two people had the gift of hearing, they would have been the first in that water. I know that truth to the depths of my soul.”