Page 5 of Sombra
“¿Más vino?” I ask, scooting a centimeter at a time away from her.
She bats her eyes and holds out her glass for more wine.
I pour, then eat in silence.
When we’re done with theprimer plato, I help mymother clear away the dishes, desperate to get away from Sonia. Once in the kitchen, my mother leans against the counter and wipes her brow. Her hands tremble, making the dishes clank.
She’s been “off” all day, and it’s concerning me.
“Madre. What’s wrong?” After depositing my dishes, I take the plates from her and set them in the sink.
She slides her hands down the frontof her black slacks. My elegant mother always dresses nicely, even for a simple dinner at home. She’d dress this way for the apocalypse. Schooling her features into false brightness, she crosses and uncrosses her arms. Her voice rises an octave. “Nothing. It’s all fine. Don’t worry.”
Now I’m really worried.
Ever since my padre died, I’ve been handling the orchard, but I know shestill frets. “Is it about the crop? I think the harvest yields will be up.”
“Ojalá.” It is her fondest hope. But her flat tone tells me she’s not convinced.
“We may even need to hire help.”
Shaking her head sadly, she wrings her hands. “We cannot afford it.”
“What? Why not? We make enough from the sales of olives to last all year. Plus we’re renting out my old room …”
She sighs and shakes her head again. “No. It’s not enough.”
“Why not? It seems fine to me.”
“Gustavo.” She cricks her head to the side to see if anyone is coming in. Seeing none, she squares off to me, her voice lowered. “Before your padre died, he borrowed money from Señor Molinero.”
News to me. My hand scrapes my jaw. “Why?”
She turns her back to me and beginsladling out the second course into a serving dish. Lamb chops stuffed with raisins served with fried fava beans and rice. Her next words are spoken to the pan, not to me. “Expenses had gotten too high. You know farmers. We’re the biggest risk-takers there are. So when the crop prices were too low, your padre borrowed money so we could make it that year. Thankfully Señor Molinero was there to lendto him. To us. We signed a promissory note, and he holds a mortgage on the property. We’ve been making the annual payments to him out of the harvest. But those payments are small. The big payment—the balloon—is due next year.”
“The whole balance?”
“Yes.”
“How much is it?”
“With interest, more than we make in five years of harvests.”
I blanch, then pull up thecollar of my shirt, covering my mouth and nose. Thinking fast, I struggle to figure a way out of this. “We’ll pay him back. I’ll get a different job somewhere. We’ll winla lotería. I don’t know, we’ll pay it back.”
“Impossible. If Señor Molinero calls the loan, we will lose our land. He’ll foreclose. And he has the right to seize our bank accounts. Take our future income except for minimumwage. Spain has just about the fewest protections in Europe.”
“I had no idea we had a problem.” But I did. I’d seen my beautiful mother become more drawn and haggard over the summer. I didn’t question her finding ways to scrimp or earn more money, like renting out the extra room. It makes sense now.
She arranges the food on the serving tray and pulls a large spoon and tongs out ofa drawer, then drops them with a clatter. As she picks the utensils up and wipes them off, I catch the palpable sadness in her eyes. Clearing her throat, she goes to speak and stops. When she speaks, it’s tentative. “I hate to mention it, but Señor Molinero and I have been talking, and he thinks you and Sonia make a good match. Eduardo has informed me that if you marry his daughter, he will forgivethe debt.”
“If I marry Sonia, we don’t owe any money,” I repeat in a voice devoid of emotion as I struggle to process what she just said.
“It’s a combining of assets, Gustavo. He would count it as a dowry. A gift.”
I repress a dry heave. “Are you seriously asking me to marry her?”
She pats my cheek. “Is your family not worth this little sacrifice? You are my good son,and you will do what’s right in your heart, because you honor your family. You will do the right thing.”
