Bridging The Gap

She shifts the Escalade into drive, after dropping the boys off at school, and thinks to herself, “today will be the day, I have to tell them.”

It was fifteen years ago. Dante was three, Francisco was two, and Santiago was one. She had three boys in quick succession. She had hoped for at least one girl but after the third pregnancy, she decided three was enough. She had married Vince two years before Dante was born; he had a terrible past. He was an only child that grew up in Tyler, Texas and his dad was an alcoholic who would frequently beat both him and his mother. Once he graduated from high school, he attended Texas Tech University. After four months of non-stop partying, no studying, and a new addiction to heroin, he was kicked out because of his poor grades. He then moved to St. Louis because his cousin lived there and he needed a change of scenery. He was still a drug addict but he managed to find a job at the Target that was on the campus of the University of Missouri. This is where she met him.

She remembers the day he asked her out perfectly; she remembers every detail of it. She was wearing a pair of light blue low rise jeans, brown flip flops, and a pink tank top that she purposely got a size too small so that it showed off a bit of her stomach. Many of the guys she had previously dated compared her body to an hourglass; she had many curves. Her hair that day was very straight and it came down to sit gently on the top of her shoulders. She only wore her hair two ways, either very straight or especially curly; she only put hair up in a ponytail when she’s nervous.

She was a senior at the University of Missouri and had seen him working in the store quite a few times and every time they saw each other he would smile at her. She noticed that he had a nice tan and was about six foot two, with brown messy hair that fell just a little bit over his ears. He always had a very handsome five o’clock shadow and she observed the huge tattoo on his right arm, but she couldn’t tell what it was because it seemed to go up his arm and onto his shoulder. He had a lean body that she liked right away but thought that he could use a little working out. She had noticed a few marks on the inside of his the elbow but thought it was just a cut or a scratch.

She was just finishing up shopping for all her necessities; in her cart was a pack of blue and black pens, a box of honey nut cheerios, a periwinkle tank top that was a size too small, the new edition of US Weekly, and a big bottle of Advil(which she needed to quell her massive hangover.) She was a party girl. The night before she had gone to one of her last college parties; Theta Chi had thrown the biggest party of the year and she was there to witness and enjoy it. As she pushed her cart towards the checkout, she looked right, down the candy aisle when she saw him stocking bags of Skittles and Starbursts. He had noticed her gaze.

“Hey.”
“Hi,” she replied.

He had put down the candy and walked over to her. Even before he took his first step towards her, she had already put her hair in a ponytail.

“My name’s Vince,” he said. “Would you like to have dinner with me some time?
She had noticed how relaxed he was. “I’m Mercedes,” she replied, “and I would love to.” She didn’t have any pieces of paper after riffling through her purse to find some, so she ended up just writing her number on the top of his hand.
It had been twenty two years since they first met. She could not believe it. Her heart started to beat faster as she thought about when she, BANG! She snapped out of day dream. “S**t,” she said as she realized that she forgot to brake and rear ended the Toyota Highlander in front of her at the stop sign. “Ay dios mio.”

After exchanging shouts and curses with the man she rear-ended, they finally exchanged information. His name was Martin, thirty three, married with four kids. She could tell by his attitude that he was an unhappy husband. She noticed the purple bags under his eyes and the deep wrinkle starting to form on his four head, which looked more like a five head since his hairline was receding; she knew that this contributed to his unpleasant demeanor. She told him that she’d pay for it and left. She was in shock by the accident, but the one comment he made lingered in her mind. During their initial conversation that consisted only of cursing and yelling, he called her a “rich stay at home bitch that has never worked a day in her life.” She kept wondering why this comment puzzled her. She usually didn’t let things like this get to her. She had worked all her life until they moved to Long Beach. She had an extremely tough time finding a job, and they were running out of the money she had saved. There was a lottery drawing for 60 million dollars and she decided to play. She had played six numbers, three for her kids’ birthdays, and three random. She had won. She began bawling when the numbers were called. She had decided to take the 32 million dollar lump sum. She put enough money away for all three boys to go to college, paid off the mortgage on the house, and bought a brand new Escalade that now had a lovely dent in the front bumper. “I can’t believe I just hit someone,” she said to herself. She needed to relax and calm down. She needed her weekly Starbucks.

“I’ll have a venti caramel macchiato, please,” she said. She paid for her drink and sat down in a large comfy chair while she waited. She noticed a stain on the cushion right next to her leg. She had an eye for details. She noticed the multi-checkered green pattern of the chair and someone must’ve been sitting in the chair recently because it was still warm. The Starbucks employee called her drink, she stood up, went over and got it. She walked over to the counter with the creams and the different color packets of sugar that were all actually the same, and put just a splash of milk in her drink. She sat back down and started rifling through her junk infested purse. She pulled out her iphone with a pink case around it and opened up her calendar. Her eyes widened. She saw what date was coming up. This upcoming Thursday was March 22nd, the day Vince died. She remembered it perfectly. Only thing is, she still wishes that she didn’t remember.

She was twenty eight at the time and had just gotten home from work when saw him sitting on the couch watching TV. All three boys were at her girlfriend’s house for the weekend because she had wanted a weekend for just the two of them to spend some quality time together. She recently noticed that he had started using again. She walked around the couch and saw three tiny bags of heroin on the coffee table; two were empty and one was still full. There were a couple of used needles next to the remote.

“Hi honey,” he said softly.

She saw his blood-shot, glazed over eyes and felt anger rushing through her. She grabbed the last bag, and held it up. “You have to stop this, you can’t do this anymore.”

“What?”
“This,” she said as she pointed to the bag. “You can’t do this anymore.” She noticed a change in his facial expression. His eyes opened up and his face started to become red.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” he said.
“Vince, please, you can’t. I won’t let you,” she said firmly. She still held the bag firmly in her hands.
“Give it to me,” he said firmly.
“No”
“Give it to me now!” he yelled.
“NO!” she screamed. His face was beet red and she was becoming more and more nervous about what he might do next.

He turned around, grabbed a needle from the table, and thrust it at her. He stabbed her in her left thigh. She screamed with pain. It was like nothing she had ever felt. He tried wrestling the bag away from her, but she wouldn’t let go. After struggling, he finally just gave her a hard shove. She fell backwards against the wall. Her head slammed against it, and noticed the blood starting to drip from the back of her head that matched the blood on her leg.

“Give me the bag before I f*****g kill you,” he said. He was grinding his teeth and his fists were clenched. Her epiphany hit her like a ton of bricks. She couldn’t allow this man to be around her kids. She wouldn’t allow it.
“No,” she said quietly. He lurched towards her with his hands out stretched but she caught him off guard. She used all of her strength to stand up and pushed him back. He fell backwards and cracked his head on the table. He lay motionless on the floor. “Oh my god,” she said. She stood there astonished.

“Excuse me, are you going to read that?”
“What?” she replied.
“Are you going to read that?”

She came out of her trance and saw that she was shaking slightly. She saw an older looking man with a pearl white comb-over pointing to the newspaper on the coffee table next to her.
“Nope” she said, “It’s all yours.” She grabbed her purse and walked quickly out the door. “Today’s the day, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t lie to them anymore.” She looked up in the rear view and saw tears starting to form in the face staring back at her.

She was on her way home when her phone rang. “Bueno,” she said.
“Yes, is this Ms. Carrazco?” the lady asked.
“Yes it is. Can I help you?”
“This is Debby from Long Beach high. I’m calling to let you know that Santiago had detention today for skipping math class. He doesn’t have his phone right now because we don’t allow phones in detention and he asked me to call you so that you could pick him up,” she explained.
“Really? Jesus, all right. Tell him I’ll be there soon,” she replied and hung up. She u-turned the car sharply and drove over to the school. She walked in the school, signed the clipboard to say that she was picking Santiago up, and waited for him. He sulked over to her as he came around the corner. She didn’t say anything to him as they walked through the hallway back out to the car. They walked out the front door and she asked, “Why did you skip class, Santi?”
“Well mom, there was this girl and she’s really hot and she had a free period and she told me to meet her in the library and…”
“Enough, just don’t do it again,” she said firmly. The car ride home was silent except for the music on the radio playing. She kept thinking about the upcoming Thursday. She hoped that none of the boys recognized what day it was, when really she knew that they remember the date of their father’s death. She had to tell them, she had to get it off of her conscience. She didn’t know how they would respond or act, but she knew that this would break their hearts.
She pulled into the garage and sighed to herself. When she got out of the car, she could hear muffled voices coming from the house. She couldn’t make out any words but knew that there was yelling.
“Are you really a dealer?” Dante asked.
“Dante, shut up, you smoke more weed than I do!” Francisco replied.
“You can’t deal pot!” he yelled.
She walked into the living room and saw Dante pointing at Francisco. “What is all the yelling for?” she asked. “I can hear you guys from the garage.”
“Mom, Francisco’s been dealing pot,” he said.
“Are you f*****g kidding me?” she asked. Dante jumped back at the sound of this. He never heard her curse; he knew something was wrong.
“Mom, it’s not what you think!” Francisco yelled. He saw mom pause and contemplate something.
“Everybody sit down,” she said calmly.
“But mom, Francisco has been,” he started.
“Just sit down,” she yelled. The three of them eyed each other and then sat down on the couch. “There’s something I have to tell you guys,” she said.
She just blurted it out. “I actually killed you father. I had to”
“What?” Santiago asked.

She looked around for a hair tie, found one on the coffee table and took a deep breath. She explained the entire story to them. She told them how she came home from work and saw him on the couch. She explained that his attitude changed so quickly from calm to enraged. She explained how the scar on her leg that they always asked about was really from when he stabbed her with the needle. She told them how she would not let go of the heroin no matter how much he yelled and screamed. She explained how after he pushed her against the wall, that she couldn’t allow him to be around them; it wasn’t safe. She told them that she wanted to push him, that she didn’t want him to be around her kids ever again. She said that what happened, was the only way for things to get better.

She realized that she was crying. She looked up to all three boys with their jaws on the floor. She sat down on the floor, curled her knees up, and placed her head in between her legs. She was bawling now. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She kept repeating this.

Then Dante stood up, and walked over to her. He bent down, and put his arms around her. Then Francisco, and then Santiago until all three boys were hugging her so tightly it was tough for her to breathe. They sat there, and sat there, and sat there; but they sat there, as a family.