Part 2…
The four of them were on my porch: my mother with the face of a victim, my father confused, Rubén avoiding my eyes and Verónica red with fury, with one hand on her belly as if her pregnancy were a credential to trample anyone.
—We need to talk —my mother said, entering without permission.
—No —I answered—. They need to listen.
Veronica let out a bitter laugh.w
—Did you go crazy? Our things are lying around at my parents’ house. We can’t enter the apartment.
—It’s not your department anymore.
—We live there.
—They lived. Free. By my generosity and that of Joaquín. That favor ended.
Rubén tried to sound calm.
—Angelica, we understand that you are hurt, but you can’t kick us out like that. There are laws.
—Perfect. Talk to a lawyer. The apartment is in my name. You don’t have a contract, you don’t pay rent and you went on vacation while I buried my son.
My mother put her hand to her chest.
—Don’t use that to punish us. We are your family.
For the first time in months I laughed, but there was no joy in my laughter.
—Family? My family was in the cemetery. Joaquín underground. Mateo at his side. Solana holding me so I wouldn’t fall. My son’s teacher crying for him. You were toasting in front of the sea.
My dad spoke softly.
—Daughter, we made a mistake, but you don’t have to destroy us.
—I’m not destroying them. I just stopped maintaining them.
Then my mother showed the real reason for her visit.
—You can’t take away our financial aid. We depend on that.
—They had money for Cancun.
—That trip was already paid for.
—And my son’s coffin too.
Nobody responded.
Veronica gritted her teeth.
