And yet there I was, with my humongous suitcases, completely terrified. I didn’t have the slightest idea of how I would handle the language, the business, the customs. I spent that sixteen-hour flight simply crying. Cry, cry, baby, I said to myself, softly, as I fell asleep.
“Welcome to Guangzhou!” After sixteen hours of travel, we had finally landed in the craziest city on Earth. And there—with the help of a guide and an interpreter—I made my way through hotels, factories, business meetings and an infinite number of chow mein dishes, until I came up with the perfect logo, the perfect aroma, the complete, perfect package.
With each and every step I took through those streets with that insane traffic, I could imagine the smile of satisfaction on my mother’s face—that thousand-watt smile that I know so well.
When I heard the announcement in Chinese on the flight back home, I knew it was time to buckle my seat belt and prepare for landing. In my handbag, under the seat in front of me, was the result of twenty days of hysteria: a perfectly produced and packaged box bearing the image of my mother and the logo I’d designed myself, along with the help of the best graphic designers. My first product as an entrepreneur! And from the moment they handed it to me, I knew that my mother would love it. Oh yes. We could argue, we could have disagreements, but we knew one another so well that just by smelling that bottle of perfume, thousands of miles away, I knew that she would like it.
I didn’t cry on this flight. And the only words that came to mind were, Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Or El que la sigue la consigue, as my grandpa would have said.
“Wow, mija! You’re just like your mother!” my momma exclaimed when she saw the perfume on her table. She opened the bottle, placed a few drops on her wrist, closed her eyes and took a whiff. Then she gave me a high five and a huge hug.
That embrace was my vindication.
I never turned out to be as good a student as my mother was. I never became the lawyer or doctor she may have dreamed about, but on that one summer day in 2009, Janney Chiquis Marín graduated as an entrepreneur. And a successful one at that, because after that first fragrance came two more for women and two for men, and all of them are still selling like hotcakes to this day. I’d had my fair share of slip-ups and stumbles, but now I had a reason to feel like a real Rivera. No more messing around!
After all the congratulations and the patting on the back, it was back to reality. Or should I say, back to the realities.
For years, my mother had been trying to produce her own television show, and she had finally succeeded. I returned from China to find the house in Encino packed with producers, cameramen and assistants.
“I want us to be the Mexican Osbournes,” my mother joked.
“But, Momma, I’ve read that those reality shows are really bad, that they tear families apart. I don’t know if I like this idea,” I countered back.
“Chiquis, what I’m trying to do here is establish a name for all of you. With this show, I’ll be investing in your future. You’ll be earning money and learning the entertainment business at the same time.”
As usual, my mother convinced me, and I accepted. I decided I’d do whatever I could to inspire other girls, because at that time, there were no other reality shows about Latinas in America.
We started with Jenni Rivera Presents: Chiquis and Raq-C, where I was the protagonist, along with Raquel, a well-known radio personality. Then we released I Love Jenni, which involved the entire family. It was harder for the boys, Johnny and Mikey, to get used to the cameras. To me, it seemed fun, and it helped me learn more about myself. But I won’t deny that it was a ton of work. People think that reality shows are all peaches and cream, that all you do is put on a lot of makeup, look gorgeous, hang out and talk shit. But the fact of the matter is that a single day of shooting can last eighteen hours or more, and that there’s lots of downtime between scenes.
It’s a job where you can’t call in sick, you can’t have second thoughts about it and the stress is exhausting.
But somehow I managed to find a sense of balance between the shows, the kids, the home and the business. My mother was on a world tour, and whenever she came back to Encino, it was to record a scene for the show.
I could feel that Johnny and Jenicka were starting to resent that crazy place. And I have to admit that I also resented the fact that we were forced to share so many private things. I always wanted to save just a little bit for ourselves, but my momma was never afraid of what people had to say.
“We’re normal. This is how we are, and we have nothing to hide,” she explained. “It’s better to be transparent. Nobody’s perfect, so I’m not afraid of the camera.”
And so, with cameras right there up in the bedroom, Jaylah Hope came into our lives in November of 2009. My sister Jacqie had made me the happiest aunt in the world and transformed the hardworking, disciplined Jenni Rivera into someone as soft as butter.
“I thought I loved my children, but ever since Jaylah arrived, I’ve found true love,” my mother would confess, laughing, totally infatuated with her first granddaughter.
My mother was so crazy about Jaylah that once, when we happened to find the little one cutting up Johnny’s passport with a pair of scissors, my momma just told us, “It’s fine, let her cut it up. We’ll get him another one.”
My God, the effect Jaylah had on my mother! I never saw someone so head over heels for her granddaughter.
And with so much happening, we closed out the year: a new home, new projects, the loss of a loved one and the addition of another. The strange cycle of life.
It was around that time that I got a call from Juan’s mother, Doña Ampelia, whom I always lovingly referred to as Grandma.
“My Chiquis, I keep dreaming that Juan’s feet are cold, so very cold,” she said. “I’ve been having them for months now.”
I had to admit my mistake.
“Grandma, it’s my fault. I forgot to put on his socks. Please forgive me.”
“Cold feet and a warm heart,” Grandma Ampelia said, reassuringly. “You loved him dearly, Chiquis.”
That Sunday, Grandma Ampelia, a woman of action determined to right wrongs, asked me to take her to the Resurrection Cemetery near Monterey Park, and with her own two hands, she buried a pair of new socks in the ground next to Juan’s grave. Amen, Juan of the Cold Feet.
Juan, forgive me for these words. For the socks, and for whatever else we may have pending. I know that my mother forgave you for all that stupid stuff. You have no idea how much we miss you . . .
I love you, Dad.
13.
LONG LIVE THE NEWLYWEDS!
Hey, Ferny, what’s up?” I had been sweeping the kitchen floor when the phone rang, and I took the call.
“Nothing, I’m just looking for your mom. It’s been ages since we spoke.”
“You know she’s with Esteban now. He’s a good man. You should leave her alone.”
“I know, Chiquis. Don’t trip. It’s all good. Just wanted to say hello.”
I kept sweeping back and forth as I listened, a bit annoyed, to the speaker on the other end of the line.
Esteban and my mother had been dating for nearly a year, and they were looking happy and relaxed together. I wasn’t about to let old ghosts from the past ruin this great opportunity to have a real man in the family.
“Look, Ferny, you know I adore you, but I’m gonna ask you not to call here anymore.” I had never spoken to him like that before, nor had I ever interfered in their relationship, but this time I wasn’t about to keep quiet. “Leave her alone. She’s got a good man. It’s her chance now to be happy and have a real family. Do it for the kids. I love you, Ferny, but it’s over.”
Dear old Ferny apologized, promised not to call again, and quickly hung up the phone.
I started sweeping harder. Almost angrily. I didn’t like what I’d done, but I wasn’t about to let anyone or anything interfere with my mother’s relationship with Esteban. Oh gosh! I thought to myse
lf. I’ve turned into my momma, with all her strategies and secrets for protecting everyone. I felt a bit sad.
The calls did stop, at least to the house phone, and from what I know, he stopped calling my mother’s cell phone too.
And soon after that, just like it happens in the movies, would come the request for the hand in marriage.
Esteban was in San Diego training with his baseball team when he called me to tell me he’d be traveling to Los Angeles the next day.
“Chiquis, tomorrow I want to take everyone out for dinner, and I need your help. I want to propose to your mom. But I won’t do it without asking for your thoughts first. You’re the oldest.”
“Yes!” I replied, unable to contain my excitement. “Of course you can have my blessings. You have the blessings of all of us. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to my momma. Yes, yes, yes!”
“What do you think she’ll say?”
“Oh no. Are you getting cold feet already? Don’t be such a wimp!”
We both burst out laughing, and we agreed not to tell anyone. It would be a total surprise.
The next night, at the fancy restaurant he’d selected, Esteban waited nervously until the dessert course before taking the ring out of his pocket. Really, nobody saw it coming! He got down on one knee and asked all of us if we would let him become a part of the family. But all I could think was, Oh my God, look at that diamond. It’s huge!
Jenicka and Jacqie burst into tears. Mikey and Johnny applauded like crazy. And my mother was so in shock that she kept on eating the piece of cake in front of her. She didn’t realize what was actually happening until she saw the ring and yelled, “Yes!”
“Momma, you never had a quinceañera. This is your big day, your vindication!” I said, giving her a massive hug.
Later, when things had calmed down and Esteban had gotten up to go to the bathroom, she spoke candidly to me. “I’m forty now, mija. It’s time to settle down. I’m in a new stage of my life, and he makes me very happy.”
Her eyes were shining. Rarely had I ever seen her with such a peaceful glow.
We started planning the big wedding later that same night. The date was set for September, after her summer tour. And we’d be going all out. Oh yes! A wedding worthy of a diva!
Months passed, and to my surprise, nobody consulted with me much about the flowers, the menu or the dress. My mother put her assistant, Julie, in charge of the preparations. I understood that that was her job, but I couldn’t help but feel a certain twinge of jealousy. And I got even more jealous still when she picked my tía Rosie to be her Maid of Honor.
“Baby, it’s traditional for the Maid of Honor to be the bride’s sister. And I don’t want you worrying about this wedding. That’s why I pay Julie. You just keep focusing on your shows and your businesses. I don’t want you to get stressed out.”
“But, Momma, it’s not that stressful.” Of course, it was hopeless to protest.
The more famous my mother became, the less she needed me. Now, with Esteban helping her with the kids, and with Julie running the office every day, I felt a bit strange. I was no longer the one who bought her clothes, who advised her on her videos or who planned her vacations. My time as Jenni’s right-hand woman and the one in charge of the house was coming to an end.
As September arrived, so did the last-minute nerves.
One morning, exactly two weeks before the official date, my mother received a phone call, and she went outside to answer it in private. I knew what was going on from the way she acted, and when she came back inside, I confronted her on it.
“You were talking with Ferny, weren’t you?”
“Yes, he just called to see how everything was going.”
“Don’t do it, Momma,” I said, trumping up my courage. “Don’t get married if you’re not one hundred percent certain. I can see it in your eyes. Don’t make a mistake here. You still love Ferny. All this time I thought you’d gotten over him, but I can see you haven’t. I know you, I know that look you had on your face while you were talking with him. You still love him!”
“I’m going to marry Esteban. I’ll do what I want, and I want to marry him,” she replied very calmly, not wanting to start an argument. “I don’t care what you think.”
“Momma, you shouldn’t do that to Esteban. You’ll hurt him, and you’ll end up hurting yourself,” I insisted.
“Don’t worry, mija. Don’t you worry,” she said, giving me her favorite line. Then she kissed me on the forehead and left.
The discussion was over.
I swear, all those months leading up to the wedding, I thought Esteban would be the man whom my mother could grow old with. And while it’s true that I felt a bit of jealousy at the thought of not being needed as much, I also felt happy. I could spread my wings, start my own family, travel or devote myself to other business opportunities. With Esteban by her side, I felt relief. My mother and my brothers and sisters would have someone to take care of them.
Esteban chipped in money every month for the mortgage, bills and other expenses. He made sure that the children got to school on time. Esteban was both father and husband: the two roles I had played my entire life.
I knew it wouldn’t be easy for me to let all of that go, but I was gradually getting used to the idea. Now I could finally start dreaming about my own future.
But that morning, after confirming my suspicions that my mother was not completely in love with the man she was marrying, I was afraid to think about the future. God only knew how that adventure might end. I had a feeling that it wouldn’t end well, but I never thought that—of all people—I would be one to suffer the most. This marriage would blow up right in my face and, to this very day, I’m still not entirely sure why.
“Smile for the cameras!” shouted the journalists at the entrance to the impressive ranch right in the middle of the Simi Valley desert.
The big day had arrived: September 8, 2010. There was no turning back. I just sat back, relaxed and prepared myself to enjoy the day with the rest of my family.
White and yellow flowers blanketed the tables and filled the corners of the room. Everything, from the music down to the last detail, was fantastic, and even the speeches given by friends and family were perfect. The bride arrived in a carriage drawn by white horses, and the person in charge of officiating the whole ceremony was none other than my tío Pete, in his role as pastor. Among the guests were people like Joan Sebastian, Gloria Trevi, Tito el Bambino, and Don Ramón Ayala, who made us dance until we kicked up a cloud of dust. Jenni Rivera wanted the whole world to know that she was a lady with good taste, and she succeeded.
Esteban looked quite elegant, and my mother, in her Eduardo Lucero gown, looked like a mermaid in love. In love with her children, her parents, her siblings. With the hundreds of friends and colleagues who came to join in the celebration. In love with her big moment, with the affection from her fans, cheering from outside the hacienda. In love with life. In love with Esteban, in her own way. My mother said yes in front of God, with all the beautiful and sincere intent of learning to love him more with every passing day.
The problem is that when the heart makes demands, reason is cast aside. There’s no room for it in the mind of someone as rebellious and passionate as my mother.
“Hey, hija, I don’t know what’s going on, but I saw your mom on the phone with someone, crying in secret before the ceremony,” Esteban told me later, at the party.
“You saw her in her wedding dress before the ceremony?” I chided him.
“I’m not superstitious. I just happened to see her outside in the garden. If everyone’s here today, then who the hell was she talking to? Probably that guy Fernando. I’ve heard about him. I hear the gossip. Even your own mother told me they still keep in touch.”
“Oh, Pops, calm down,” I said reassuringly, though I knew the same. That call could only have been with Ferny.
Eventually, Ferny himself confessed to me that it was, in fact, my mother who
had called him to say good-bye, with all the love that she had, minutes before walking up to the altar.
As time went by, I also realized that I have a confession to make. I have to apologize to Ferny, because I pushed him out of my mother’s life, instead of letting them talk. Forgive me, Mother, because Ferny stopped calling for a long, long time, and I know how much that made you cry. Maybe we shouldn’t intrude when it comes to matters of the heart. For better or for worse.
“Long live the newlyweds!” the guests cheered.
The last toast to a perfect wedding ended well past midnight. The next morning they began their perfect marriage, and my new reality.
14.
DANCING WITH JEALOUSY
Baby, call him, por favor, just call my teddy bear,” my mother begged me. This was during the time when I was going out a bit more with my friends. I was learning to figure out what it was like to have a life outside of my mother and the kids. I felt guilty, but part of me enjoyed it. But my mother was uncomfortable seeing me spread my wings. “I’m settling down now,” she told me. “And Jacqie is too, with her boyfriend and her baby. When will you?”
“Momma, I’m fine. What’s with your obsession with fixing up our lives?” I responded, but my protests were not heard. My mother, as persistent as she ever was, convinced me to look for Héctor, two years after I broke it off with him.
My mistake was calling him, and his mistake was taking my call. And since ashes remain where there once was fire, we started seeing one another, trying to fall in love again. The problem was that our ghosts from the past were suffocating us. In exactly four weeks, we had become the same old thing: I canceled a romantic dinner date because Momma asked me for a last-minute favor; Héctor got annoyed, and rightly so. We spent a few days traveling together to deliver some donations to an orphanage in Tijuana, and we argued nearly the entire trip there. All of a sudden, I saw it all so clearly. We no longer had any patience for each other.
Forgiveness Page 10
