Page 67 of The Charade

As Ava continued to trace her fingers along my bracelet and the surrounding skin of my wrist, I continued my story. "Like I said, she gave me this bracelet as a birthday present and told me that she loved me so much and that she wanted me to always remember that. And then after another hug and a kiss on the top of my head, she took me back inside the childcare and then went off to work.

"I remember playing with a dinosaur puzzle during quiet time, and how Señorita Celeste read us a story about a boy who helped hisabuelasell the wall hangings that she weaved at the market. I remember more details about that day than most days I've had since then. But what I remember most was waiting by the window at the front of the childcare after the other parents had picked up their kids and wondering when my mom was going to come.

"Señorita Celeste took my hand and pulled me back to the small kitchen where she had some rice and beans cooked up for dinner. She told me to eat with her and the two other kids who’d been left at the childcare the month before—their mom never came back for them, either.

"I remember going to sleep on the small mattress that night and hugging the thin blanket to myself as I wondered what might have happened to my mom at work that day. Had she gotten hurt? Was she still working? Had she somehow forgotten which childcare she'd left me at?"

I shook my head at the memory of how scared I'd been that night. It was the first time I hadn't slept next to mymamá.

"Did you ever find out what happened to her?" Ava asked, her finger stopping its stroke along my arm.

"We're not exactly sure," I said, releasing a shaky breath. "My dad hired a private investigator after finding me to see if they could dig up some kind of explanation for what happened to my mom that day. But we think she probably died shortly after that. We think she probably knew she couldn't take care of my basic needs any longer, and so she left me where she knew I'd be safe."

"And she did that after giving you one last good memory, one magical day to remember her by."

I nodded and stifled a wave of emotion that threatened to overcome me, knowing that if I spoke, I'd probably just end up crying. "It was her last goodbye to me."

I leaned back against the cushion, feeling spent after telling my story. Ava studied me for a moment before curling up against me and resting her head on my shoulder. "I bet that was really hard for her to do," she said. "Your mom probably put it off for as long as she could."

I draped my arm around Ava's shoulders, needing her beside me more than I'd known. "I guess that could be right. Maybe she'd tried to leave me dozens of times before she finally got up the nerve to do it."

"Are you mad at her?" Ava angled her head up so she could read my expression.

I let out a long breath as I tried to figure out the answer to that question.

"I was really sad and worried for the first month," I said. "I kept waiting for her to show up. And when she never did, I was mad that she could just leave me like that. I was mad for a really long time." I sighed. "But now that I'm older and have a better understanding of how hard it probably was for her, I just feel sad she was even in that situation in the first place."

"Were you ever mad at your dad?" Ava guessed.

"Yeah," I said. "I was pretty mad at him when I came to his house and saw just how much money he had. I was mad that he got to live in a huge house, with people he paid to do everything he wanted done for him and our family. I was mad that while he got to go to Guatemala for two weeks at a time, help a little here and there, write another check to solve a problem, my mom had literally starved to death. I was so mad at him. I hated that he'd had his little two-week fling, gotten her pregnant, and then left without even making sure she was provided for."

"Do you think he would have taken care of her if he'd known about you?"

"He would," I said, not even having to think about it. "He probably would have moved her in to live with him and Dawn in a heartbeat, if he'd known about me."

"Because deep down, he's a good dad," Ava said. "A good person?"

"He is."

We were quiet for a minute, each lost in our thoughts.

After a long moment, Ava said, "I can understand why you would have been mad at him."

"You can?" I looked at her.

She nodded. "You know what kind of resources he has at his fingertips, and so you know that if things had been different and he'd given your mom his real name—if he hadn't been down there all incognito-style—then she could have contacted him and she might still be here today."

"Exactly." It was like Ava could see into my thoughts somehow because I'd thought those very same things so many times before.

She sat up again so she could see my face better. "I've always been a little frustrated with my mom for a similar reason. I know she's the one who had to do the hard work of raising Elyse and me all by herself—but if she'd just tell us who he is…" Ava shook her head and looked down at her hands that she was wringing in her lap. "If she’d have told him about us, then at least he could’ve had the choice to be a part of our lives or not."

"He doesn't know about you?"

"No." Ava wiped at the moisture pooling at the corners of her eyes. When she spoke again, her voice wobbled. "She said she never told him about us because it would only bring more drama into our lives and we were better off without him."

"Was he, like, a criminal or something?" I asked, curious about what kind of a guy had given her half of her DNA. "Part of the mafia?"

"I don't think so." She shrugged. "I snuck into my mom's file cabinet when I was younger to see if I could find his name on my birth certificate, but the place for the father's name was left blank. So not even the government knows who our father is."

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