Page 53 of After the Fire
26
THE CONFRONTATION
I stopped pacingmy hotel room and sat down on the loveseat, where I had a view of the town square right out the window. The town was barely waking up, and the vibrant colors from the late sunrise shined past the square and behind the mountains. I could see the bus stop brimming with people, their suitcases and their hopes and dreams, possibly embarking into their future in the city.
The line rang on the other end, my knee bouncing up and down in nervousness. I knew I could do this easily. My whole professional career relied on me having difficult conversations with difficult clients.
“Pick up, pick up,” I murmured, biting on my right thumbnail.
“Victoria,¿dónde estás? Dios mío,do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Where are you? Really?
“Really,abuela, that’s your first question?” The nickname came out with a snarl, but I tried to hold my smile, because I was infinitely aware of how much she hated that. “Never a ‘how are you,’huh?”
I immediately regretted those words. This wasn’t the right time for that conversation.
“Where are you? Are you planning to ever come back to your life or are you going to continue to act like a child and run away from your problems?” she asked, contempt in her voice. “Do you realize the magnitude of this situation, Victoria? You’ve humiliated me to no end, running away like this, like a child would do. It’s the only thing people talk about.”
I was stunned. It didn’t come as a surprise to me, the way she was describing this as if the impact of my actions was solely on her. For the first time in my thirty-something years of age, I was realizing that this woman, who, by the way, I revered ever since she took us in, was nothing but a selfish, self-centered woman who cared only about her appearance and what people thought of her. And I was no different. I was her blood through and through.
All I could offer her at this point was silence. Because I had nothing left to say to anyone about my failed marriage. I had my closure. I knew that I needed to move on. And I was trying, damn it!
“Where are you?” she asked. “We’ll come get you, and you and I will have a conversation and figure out how to fix this.”
“I’m not coming back, Susana.” At least not yet. I needed to figure out my shit. “I need time and space to figure out some things.”
“Victoria.” She sighed. “What has gotten into you? Why are you like this? Manuel is heartbroken.”
“Oh yeah, so heartbroken that he went on our honeymoon with another woman?” Silence. “Did you know that? He never wanted to get married. But you pushed me on to him, and vice versa. Made me believe he was in love with me, that I was in love with him. And you know what? I dodged a motherfucking bullet.”
I let that sink in for a minute. I wasn’t supposed to curse around her, but the words were liberating.
“Do you think it would have been worse if I was divorced within the year?” She would have been appalled. “Who would ever look at me again after I’d been divorced, right, Susana?”
I heard her take a breath, but I cut her off. “There were so many signs I ignored, so many, over and over again, like the fool I am. And why? Because he had a good last name? Because he would makeyoulook good? I’m done living my life because of you, Susana.”
“Where the hell is this coming from, you ungrateful child,” she said. She was rolling out the big guns now, using minor curse words and insulting me. She would only ever do that if anyone hit a nerve or told a semblance of truth that contradicted what she said. “Let’s not forget that you ran away on the day of your wedding, Victoria. You left your groom at the altar, with no explanation or warning. Tell me how that is a mature response. To anything.”
“This isn’t why I called. We need to have a conversation but not this one right now.” I stood up again and planted my feet by the window. Maybe if I found a place for me to look into, the words would come out calmer. I took a deep breath and rolled my shoulders. “Did you know that my grandfather wasn’t kidnapped?”
Silence. On both ends. Intentional on my end, of course.
I could picture her closing her eyes in slow motion, keeping them closed for a few seconds and then opening them up again, an answer on the tip of her tongue. She would hold the bridge of her nose with her index finger and thumb and take a deep breath.
“Victoria, your grandfather was kidnapped in 1988. You know this. You’ve known this all your life.” She was moving now. I could hear her shuffling in the background. It was still early, and there wouldn’t be any movement in her house except for her. Her steps were even, and it sounded like she was going down the stairs. “We paid the ransom, and he was never released. End of story.”
“I beg to differ, Susana,” I snarled. “Tell me the truth. I have evidence to explain the contrary.”
She gasped. Gasped! An audible gasp. I hadn’t expected this response from her.
“What are you talking about? Are you delirious? Is this why you ran away?” She was changing the subject. This was easily one of Susana’s most used resources when the conversation wasn’t going her way. Sometimes it was subtle, but other times it was rampantly obvious. “Do we need to come find you with a doctor?”
I laughed out loud and could feel Susana getting angrier by the second.
“I already know everything, Susana, so might as well tell me the truth. It doesn’t really matter, right? You’ve sold your story, and people have pitied you for years, decades.”
“No one has ever pitied me, Victoria. People respect me. Don’t you ever forget who you are. People respect the likes of us.”
“Ay, Susana, stop. You don’t need to sell that bullshit to me anymore. I don’t give a fuck who we are, what our last name is, how much money is in your bank account.” I was agitated now, words coming out fast and uncontrolled. I took a deep breath and continued. “Let me fill you in, in case you aren’t aware of the truth.
