The phone rang less than five minutes later.

“The fuck you hung up on us for? What the hell is wrong with you? You’ve been MIA most of the weekend. This is not like you. We have needed you; taking care of Mom is not easy, and you just abandoned us to the wolves.” Camilo berated me over the phone. His voice was no match to the tension gathering at my temples. Nothing he said bothered me but not because I didn’t care, but because they needed to grow the fuck up. And today, they would learn.

“If you and Melo cannot be kind when talking to me, then we have nothing to talk about. If you both are struggling this weekend, it’s because it’s the first time I have treated you like you are responsible young adults instead of bratty-ass children.”

The gasps on the other side of the speaker made my stomach cramp. There was a lot I needed to tell Camilo and Marcelo. There was a lot to heal and growing we all needed to do. But I was done letting them coast through life without responsibilities.

“Today is the first day of our new lives. I am no longer the sole caretaker for my mother. We will take turns. You two got to live your childhood with minimal concerns; that was because of me. I don’t fault you either for that. I made a decision, and I stick to it, but what we are not gonna do is act like the two of you are not grown now and can take some of the responsibilities of taking care of Mom. So you both had to care for her a weekend, the fuck you complaining about? That is your mother and she needed you. Man, the fuck up.”

“Yooooo, we been trying to help; you are wilin!” Camilo exclaimed.

“Nah, let him speak,” Melo said in a quiet tone that gave me hope. Shit, maybe this is what I should have said a long time ago.

“Both of you start thinking of the responsibilities you want to take off my plate because I’m done doing this alone. The questions you both asked this weekend showed me how disconnected you are about Mom’s day-to-day. From now on we take turns with the medical appointments, with buying her meds, everything.”

The words flowed out of my mouth. The usual calm I sought was still there, but this time, it was combined with utter peace. I’d never felt this peaceful before, not about my family, but with every word I said, I realized this was long overdue.

The slight fear of losing my brothers’ love if I didn’t provide everything they needed and then some was there, but the peace washed away any of the tools that fear had used to keep me complacent. Now I recognized the fear for what it was.

The silence after was deafening. I sat on my bed, after carving a path on the carpet, pacing back and forth letting my brothers know how I felt.

“Well, you could have told us you were resenting us instead of yelling at us, but I guess we kinda been dicks and deserve it,” Camilo said.

“For real, I mean damn, man, that shit hurt but…listen, you right, we…shit. Let’s talk when you get back, Orlando; we clearly need a bigger conversation,” Marcelo said, and I experienced yet another new emotion with regard to my brothers. Pride.

I could live with that.

“That sounds good; I’ll be home later today. Probably late night.”

“A’ight. We’ll be here, we’ll take care of Ma…”

“Actually, is she there?” The nerves hit me as Celo and Milo went in search of our mother. “Let’s do a video call,” I asked once they were all together.

Marcelo stood next to Mom, who, for once, was dressed in slacks and a blouse, her hair combed and looking more lively than the past few months. Whatever happened this weekend, it seemed it wasn’t only good for me.

I smiled at seeing her. Camilo sat next to her and held her hand.

“Ma, I just told Marcelo and Camilo they need to do their part at home moving forward. I need you to do your part too. I know you miss Dad…shit, I miss him too, but we all need to work together to make sure things are better for all of us. And because, well, I have a daughter. A five-year-old daughter, and she doesn’t deserve to come into a dysfunctional family on her dad’s side. So I need y’all to get it together. For her. For me.”

Camilo’s and Marcelo’s jaws went slack at the news, but Mom? I would never forget her expression. It was as if a light had turned on inside. So much was exchanged between her and me with just our eyes. There was a hope that ignited in her, something I hadn’t seen since my father had passed.

I had missed her, this version of her. Even if it was weathered and still dragged down by her cabanga.

The woman on the other side of the screen, that was my mother.

“Bendito, what a blessing, hijito. You’re right; we can talk more when you are back, but this weekend, with these two pestering me, I realized I need to do a little better with my meds. But where is this daughter, and when do I get to meet her?” The burning in my eyes threatened to form thug tears. All it took was for Ma to say she would try. That was all I ever needed to hear.

“I’m meeting her later today. She should be here in about an hour or two—remember Maria? She…well, she got pregnant and never told me; Maya is five years old.”

“Oh, Maya.” Mom sighed with a faraway look. There, I still saw the ghosts that haunted her; expecting her to be right by this good news would be childish of me, but now I realized that seeing her as a burden wasn’t fair to her either.

My mom was allowed to have bad and good days. All I needed was for her to try. The rest we would always deal with together.

“Sí, Mama, como tú, Mamá,” I said, and we both smiled at each other. The cabanga loomed right over her, and I knew it would always be her companion, but today my family made me feel hopeful. And it all started with me opening up.

Fuck, I wish Trinidad was here to see this. I wish… I wish she’d give me another chance to prove to her that I could and would continue to be the best man I could be because she was worth it all.

The need to let her know my feelings washed over me, drowning me in urgency until I surrendered to the pull.