Because of You

by Laura Ward

  Even participating in this exercise hurt my tender heart. Inhaling deeply, air filling my chest, I typed.

  I forgive Ricky Martinez.

  Dr. Redmond leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees as she watched us. “This part is harder. You have to work to understand the person. Write down anything positive you know about the offender.”

  For the first time, I disagreed with her. This part was not hard at all. The mental visualization of Ricky alone made typing positive attributes fly from my fingers.

  Strong

  Kind

  Loving

  Hardworking

  Protective

  Loyal

  Family

  I could have gone on, but Dr. Redmond interrupted. “Finally, discover some empathy for this person. Think about any reasons why they might have committed the offense that hurt you. Think of those reasons with your compassionate, empathetic glasses on. Write down those reasons.”

  Closing my eyes, I placed myself in Ricky’s apartment with his beloved family. Again, the words flew out and onto the screen.

  Papa

  Poverty

  Helplessness

  Misunderstanding

  Anger

  Loyalty

  Family

  Dr. Redmond stood and paced back and forth on the stage. “Go back up to the original offenses this person committed. Now, look at your list of compassionate reasons for their mistake. Can you forgive them? Remembering that absolution isn’t about meeting with them, it doesn’t have to be said out loud. And it doesn’t mean the person has received any justice for what they did wrong. This is about you, class. This is a gift for you. I don’t know what all of you struggle with, but I do know that sometimes the person you need to forgive the most is you. Perhaps you’ve thought of that during this exercise today, too. Forgiveness is the surest sign of strength, of that I know most certainly. Today, we’ll end class early. The weather is beautiful. Walk around and allow yourself the grace of amnesty. Write me an email tonight and let me know how that mercy has affected your physical and or emotional health.”

  Gathering her papers, she left the room.

  I blew out a long breath. My head throbbed from my pent-up emotions. Time outside was a very good idea.

  Slipping my laptop into my bag, I tugged on my light jacket and made my way out the classroom door.

  * * *

  TWO HOURS LATER, I was still outside. The sun began to set, and a chill had taken over the air, but my mind was clear. Clearer than it had been in so long.

  My mother was right. Dr. Redmond was right. The choices were all mine. A strength like I had only ever dreamed of, filled me.

  Pulling out my laptop, I wrote in bold letters under my notes:

  I FORGIVE RICKY MARTINEZ.

  NO MORE FEAR!

  I CHOOSE LOVE.

  Closing my laptop with a smile, I jogged to my car.

  * * *

  A FEW MINUTES later, I pulled up to Ed’s bike shop. Scanning the time on my dashboard, I saw that it was close to five o’clock. Ricky was always at work at this time. But the shop was dark and looked empty. A sign reading For Sale still hung in the window, but the building looked abandoned.

  Frowning, I reversed out of the parking lot and headed to Ricky’s apartment. A few minutes later, I parked and locked my car. Ignoring the sketchy teens still huddled outside, I opened the door and took the elevator to his floor. I retraced my footsteps from the night I visited his family. Knocking on his door, I waited, my pulse speeding up, anticipating the sight of his face.

  Once my heart and brain aligned with the decision to accept his apology and to move on, I was impatient, giddy with anticipation of being with him again.

  But when the door opened, Marcela stood in front of me, a thoughtful crease in between her eyebrows, her smile growing as she recognized me.

  “Aveline!” She took my hands in hers, pulling me into the house. “How are you? We saw pictures of you and Ricardo at Dean’s wedding. You looked beautiful.”

  As Marcela talked, she never let go of my hands, raising them up and down as she gestured without breaking our connection.

  “Aveline!” Teresa came out of the kitchen, grinning widely.

  Marcela released my hands and I hugged Teresa.

  “I’m cooking dinner. Will you join us?” she asked me.

  This family, one who had little, wanted to share what they did have with me, without a second thought. Simply amazing.

  I shook my head. “No thank you, Teresa. I have dinner plans with my parents later. Is Ricky here?” I looked over at Marcela again. “I really need to talk to him.”

  Marcela and Teresa turned to each other, a look of concern on each of their beautiful faces.

  “He’s at work at the machine factory. Second shift, from two o’clock until ten-thirty, so he’s gone now. Didn’t he tell you?” Marcela asked.

  “The factory?” The question fell from my lips. “What about the bike shop?”

  Teresa frowned. “Ed closed the bike shop. Ricky lost that job.”

  “What about college? He missed class today. He can’t finish class if he works at the factory.” My stomach knotted up and my hands were clammy. I wiped them on the front of my jeans. I was missing something. Another piece of information was still out there.

  Marcela’s eyes shined with tears. “I know. I begged him to let me get a job. But when Papa went back into the hospital, we knew Mama wouldn’t be able to work. And now we know he needs some special rehabilitation center. Ricky’s desperate to take care of all of us. He quit school. He said the money and benefits in the factory are what we need.”

  “What happened to your dad?” My body began to shake, the effort not to cry was Herculean.

  Teresa and Marcela held hands, the younger sister taking a turn to tell me the bad news. “His heart stopped. Pulmonary embolism. But he’s better. Blood thinners are working and he’s looking better every day.”

  My hands flew to my mouth. “I’m sorry.” My voice caught as tears filled my eyes. “What you all are going through. I’m very sorry.”

  Marcela hugged me. “It’s not your fault. But thank you.”

  I pulled back. This time it was my turn to ask for forgiveness. “Actually, it is. I found out a few days ago… that I’m the girl who almost drowned. I’m the one your Papa saved.” Holding my breath, I watched their eyes grow round, mouths falling open. They looked at each other, breathing harder as they let my words sink in.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, girls. I was at the lake with my parents that day. I was dancing, and I fell in. My parents are deaf. They never heard me cry for help. Your dad saved me and paid an ultimate price. I’m so sorry.” I wept now, hands covering my face. This was the apology I wanted to give to Ricky before I found out about his betrayal. My first thought had been to beg him for forgiveness.

  Both girls came to me and we hugged, crying, and sobbing, and accepting.

  Marcela pulled away, dark mascara streaks on her face. “I prayed each night to meet the child Papa saved. I’m glad it’s you. Papa is your hero. And you can see him soon and thank him.”

  I nodded, wiping away her mascara streaks and my wet marks. “Yes, I will. Soon. You both forgive me?”

  Teresa sighed. “This was an accident, but you lived. So did Papa. There’s nothing to forgive.”

  Marcela nodded. “Don’t give up on Ricky. Please. He’s lost and distraught right now.”

  “That’s why I came here. I’m not giving up. Can you ask him to call me when he gets home? No matter how late.” I stood up, straightening my glasses and hair.

  “Of course,” Teresa answered.

  “Talk soon. Things will get better, girls. I know it.”

  We said goodbye and as soon as I got into my car I texted two numbers.

  “Ricky, I need to talk to you. I heard about your Papa and the factory job. Please call or text after work.”

  “Dad, I need your help. I’m fine, but Ricky
is not. Can you and Mom meet me at home ASAP? PS: I’m choosing love.”

  Dad responded right away. “Anything for you. We are on our way.”

  But from Ricky, there was no reply. For the first time, I thought there was a chance I might be too late. The damage could be done. Ricky might not be mine to choose.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Ricky

  TWO STRAIGHT WEEKS of machinery work and I was miserable. Add to that the constant questions from my well-meaning sisters on whether I had called Aveline back yet, and why not—I was in double the misery. Aveline’s texts that started back up asking to talk, but then stopped again, were the last straw. I was in a hole so dark and deep I thought I would never find my way out.

  The only good thing I could think of right now? My Papa was getting out of the hospital today. I had my first full-time factory worker paycheck burning a hole in my pocket. I couldn’t wait to show Mama. That small amount of pride was the only thing allowing me to breathe in and out these days.

  Waking up late this morning, the apartment was empty. Mama left a note that they were at the hospital for Papa’s discharge and to meet them there. I dragged my exhausted ass into the shower, changed into clean jeans and a t-shirt, and threw on my sunglasses before heading to the bus stop.

  Twenty minutes and several stops later, the bus pulled up to St. Vincent’s. I walked inside, taking the elevator up to the third floor. As I made my way to Papa’s room, my mind drifted as it always did to Aveline. What was she doing today? Was she happy? I hoped to God she was. My butterfly needed time to heal and she would be off, gliding through this world that while dark to me, was full of light and life with her around.

  My feet skidded to a halt at the sight inside Papa’s room. Standing by one side of his bed were Aveline’s parents. On the other side, Mama, Marcela, and Teresa stood. Aveline was at the end of the bed, signing and speaking to both groups.

  “What the hell’s going on?” I barked out, my voice sounding more raw and rough than I’d expected.

  Aveline’s head jerked back. Her face flushed and eyes went round behind her glasses. Her hair was down, hanging in loose waves down her back. She wore a casual t-shirt with a vest over top. Her jeans were not the fancy tailored kind, but relaxed and worn. And on her feet were sneakers, something I’d never seen her wear before. She looked different, but comfortable and still sexy as ever.

  “Ricky,” she breathed out.

  At her reaction, Mr. and Mrs. Gerard looked my way. They smiled at me. Why in the ever-loving fuck were they smiling at me?

  “Ricardo, welcome. Come here,” Mama instructed. I walked to her, kissing both cheeks and giving small hugs to my sisters. I stayed with them avoiding the most gorgeous, loving woman I had ever seen like she had the damn plague.

  “Mama? Why are they here? What’s going on?” I asked her in our native language. From the corner of my eye, I saw Aveline translate my words. Dammit. For a split second, I forgot that she knew Spanish, too.

  Before she could respond, Aveline’s Mom began to sign to me. Her eyes searched mine, intense and shining. Her emotion was clear, though her words were a mystery.

  “Ricky,” Aveline spoke, her voice choked with emotion. “I’ll translate for my parents. My mom wants to apologize for surprising you. She, my father, and I have been meeting with your Mama and Papa for the last week.”

  “What?” I shouted so loudly that everyone but Mr. and Mrs. Gerard jumped.

  “Ricardo,” Mama admonished. “Let her translate.”

  “My parents explained their situation to your parents, both how their loss of hearing kept them from diving in to help me, and how their fear of some family interference kept them from more aggressively searching for the man who saved their daughter. My parents, as you know, are wealthy. What I didn’t know was how wealthy. They want to help your father,” Aveline said.

  My heart began to beat hard in my chest. “No, thank you.” Reaching into my back pocket, I handed Mama my paycheck. “Please tell your parents,” I addressed Aveline. “I was incredibly wrong to think they should be held accountable for what happened to Papa. I’m taking responsibility now. My paycheck will help Papa.”

  Aveline turned and signed my response to her parents. Her father shook his head, signing back.

  She faced me, her perfect pixie face pink with excitement. “No, my father wants you to know, it’s done. He and my mom have already paid for a placement at the rehabilitation center. They also have a medical trust in your father’s name.”

  “Mama,” I interrupted Aveline. “Stop this. We don’t need them.”

  My mother walked over to me, placing her work-worn hands on my cheeks. “Ricardo, we’ve made it all these years on our own. And it’s taken a week of convincing, but Aveline’s parents want to be a part of our lives. I’m hoping, after all is said and done, that Aveline will be a part of your life again, too. All of this will connect us. To help with accepting the arrangement, I’m taking over as house manager for the Gerard’s. I will do the cooking, cleaning, and laundry. We have agreed on a salary, which they say is a huge cut from what they used to pay, but that quite frankly is more than what I’ve ever made. You can go back to school. Papa can get expert help. It’s a miracle.” Tears ran down her cheeks, and I swallowed, my throat closing so I couldn’t speak.

  I looked over at Papa in bed, watching all of us, his trach tube keeping him from joining in, but his eyes capturing every word and every tear.

  “I can do this, Mama. I can take care of you all. I have it locked down. Handled. Let me do this.” My voice was gruff and gravely.

  But she shook her head.

  Dragging my fingers across my scalp, I growled, frustration leeching out of my pores. “This is what you want?” I asked Mama, choked up with my own emotion.

  “Si, my Ricardo. This is the healing each person in this room needs. I believe that with my whole heart.” Mama moved her hands from my face and kissed my cheeks again. “Now go listen to your girl. She’s been trying to talk to you for almost two weeks now.”

  Nodding, I cleared my throat and turned to Aveline. “Translate for me?” I asked.

  She nodded, her face somber and timid.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Gerard, thank you for helping my family. I was wrong to think you should and I was horribly wrong for texting you and demanding money. I was wrong about so much, but… thank you for stepping up. I’ll never be able to express how sorry I am that I hurt your daughter.” My voice cracked at the end, but Aveline signed as I spoke, her parents tracking each word.

  Her mom stepped forward signing to me. Aveline’s voice filled the room. “We forgive you for hurting her because she has forgiven you. Do you forgive us for not finding your father and offering to help him? We owe your father more than just our gratitude for what he did for us.”

  My head fell forward hanging low, chin hitting my chest. When I looked up, tears pricked the corners of my eyes. I nodded, unable to speak, the pressure and emotion surrounding my heart so intense, I worried it might explode.

  “Come with me?” Aveline asked, slipping her tiny hand into mine.

  Again, I could only nod. Looking over to my mom and sisters, they waved me on, grinning widely. I swear even Papa had a twinkle in his eye.

  Aveline and I were silent on the ride down the elevator and across the parking lot. Heaviness settled in my stomach. Was she ready to accept my apology? Or did she want to establish a new normal for us, as friends?

  Stopping at her car, she looked up at me, her brows wrinkled. “Are you mad at me? You never answered any of my texts.”

  “Not mad. I mean I was. Angry and hurt that you would keep your parents hearing loss from me.” I rolled my neck, cracking some stiff parts. “I figured you didn’t trust me enough to tell me. But after what I did to you, I deserved the lack of trust, right?”

  “That’s not it. Trust wasn’t the reason.” She looked down at her hands, her lips turned down.

  My face scrunched toge
ther in what I was sure was not a very manly look. “What was it then? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She looked up, her gray eyes stormy. “I don’t have an exact reason. All I know is that my whole life has been defined by the one ability my parents lacked. When I finally broke free and was out in the big, bad world on my own, even if for one college class, I wanted to be known only for me. Does that make any sense?”

  “It does.” I shuffled my booted feet, my fingers twitching with the need to touch her, even though deep down I knew I shouldn’t.

  “I’m sorry I kept that from you. If I hadn’t we could have avoided this whole mess. No more secrets. Ever, right?” She asked, a bit timid, and a whole lot adorably vulnerable.

  “Never again.” I shoved my hands into the front of my jeans pockets, hoping that would keep me from taking her hands in mine. “And I’m sorry I didn’t return your texts. I figured there wasn’t a point. I have a new path in life.”

  Her posture straightened. “But now that your Mama has a better paying job, you can quit the factory and go back to college.” She bit her lip, her face reading mine like she was studying a textbook. “Would you like to go to IU? Try and play football for them?”

  “No way.” The words flew fast from my mouth, surprising my brain. “My buds graduated. Wouldn’t be the same being there, especially at almost twenty-three, without them. But I’ll finish college for sure. I’ll stay local, though. In case… you…” I paused, eyebrows raised, hoping against hope that she’d tell me she wanted to get back together.

  Aveline narrowed her eyes. “Where’s your bike? I’d like to show you what I’ve been working on.”

  Eyes to the ground, I studied my boots, avoiding her face when I answered her question. “I sold it.”

  She drew in a breath. “For extra money when Ed’s closed?”

  Nodding, I met her eye. “It’s fine.”

  “I wasn’t expecting that. This will make what I want to show you… interesting.” Color bloomed on her pretty face. “Hop in. I’ll drive.”