CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
VERÓNICA RAMSEY
I wasn’t in the best frame of mind when I rushed into the hospital. It seemed like much of my life was being spent at Grady Memorial Hospital. It seemed as if my family members were being plucked from my life one at a time. “God, please don’t take my father away from me again.”
Victória wouldn’t give me much information. She was hysterical. Moses wound up giving me a brief recap of what was going on. However, I could not figure out how or why all three of them were together when my father collapsed. I left LM with my in-laws and rushed to the hospital.
Moses and Victória were seated in the waiting room when I rushed in. I was out of breath from running from the parking deck. Moses leaned over and gave me a soft peck on the lips. I was embarrassed by his public display of affection since we’d spent most of our relationship hiding behind closed doors.
“What happened?” I said, looking between the two of them. I hugged my sister and sat down next to Moses. “Padre was having chest pains, and Moses told me to call for an ambulance. He didn’t want to come to the hospital but Moses insisted, so I rode over with him.”
I said, “That’s good. I’m glad you both were with him to make sure he took his pills.”
All eyes swiveled to me.
Victória jumped out of her chair and got in my face. “You knew about this and didn’t tell me? I can’t believe you.”
“I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, but I haven’t had time to tell you.”
“After what happened to Mom? Are you serious?” She walked over to the window, obviously pissed at me.
I walked over to her but she brushed my hand off her shoulder. “Victória, it happened the day I was coming to take you home. Padre wanted to know what I’d told you about him and Ramón. I told him you didn’t know anything and he went ballistic.” I turned to Moses because Victória was ignoring me. “Moses, you came home right after it happened. Don’t you remember?”
“I remember something, but I agree with Victória. What if he couldn’t tell us about the pills? We wouldn’t have thought to check his pockets and he might’ve died.”
I looked around in disbelief. How did I become the bad guy when I just got there? I felt like they were ganging up on me. “Okay, I admit I should have said something. I wasn’t trying to hide it, though. Victória, I haven’t seen you since the time we met at our old house, and, Moses, you know what’s been going on at the house. Damn, can’t I get a break?” I was close to breaking down in tears. Everything that had been happening seemed amplified.
Moses came over to me and wrapped me in his arms as I started crying. “Honey, I’m not mad at you and neither is Victória. We’re all acting on our emotions. Please stop crying.” He rained tiny kisses along my hairline and forehead trying to relax me. Moses might not have been mad, but I still had to fix things with my sister.
Victória said, “Verónica, you have to stop babying me. I’m not a child. Believe it or not, I am a strong Latino woman and I can take it.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I wasn’t trying to baby you, and I know how strong you are. In many ways you’re stronger than me. But think about this honestly: when have you and I spent ten minutes together to talk? You haven’t even been around to see my son but I understand.” I pushed away from Moses. Suddenly I was mad when I realized what I’d just said.
“So you’re going to turn this around on me?” Victória was livid.
“Yeah, I am.” I was pissed too. If my sister wanted a fight, she was about to get it, and I didn’t care who saw it.
“Wait, hold up. You two are taking this too far.” Moses pulled me back in my seat and stood between us.
Victória tried to get around him but he wouldn’t let her. I didn’t understand what was going on. I wasn’t even mad until she said I was babying her. But wasn’t that what older sisters were supposed to do? I was confused by my emotions.
Moses said, “Victória, your sister’s hormones are fucking with her so please don’t take any of this personally.”
I pushed away from Moses. He pissed me off for belittling me in front of my sister.
“Moses, what are you saying?” I was all over the place and they both were looking at me like I’d lost my damn mind.
Moses fixed me with a stern look. “Stop.” As our eyes connected, Moses brought me back to my senses. Before I could examine my feelings any closer, a doctor walked into the waiting room. It was a moment I lived through before, and I assumed Victória felt it too because she walked over and took my hand.
“Is there anyone here for Mr. Mendoza?”
I could not read the doctor’s face, and I couldn’t answer his question. The only thing I could think about was the last time we were in the hospital and the doctor told us our mother had passed away. I closed my eyes as if it would help stop me from hearing bad news. I leaned into my sister.
“Yes, we’re his daughters. How is he?” Victória asked.
“He’s stable right now. We’re going to keep him for a few days to run some more tests.”
“Is it his heart?” I knew the answer before I asked the question.
The doctor nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid it is. He told me he has known of his condition for some time but refuses to have the surgery.”
“What type of surgery?” Moses asked.
“He needs a bypass. He has severe blockage to the heart and it needs to be removed.”
Victória asked, “Did he say why he is refusing the surgery?”
“No, but I was hoping one of you could convince him to change his mind. As you know, the heart is a muscle and your father’s heart is tired and overworked. Nitroglycerin relaxes the blood vessels and takes the strain off your heart, but you can only do it so many times for it to remain effective. Unless you get your father to change his mind, the next time this happens he might not be so lucky.”
Victória said, “Thank you, Doctor. We will speak with him. Can we see him?” Just as she did when our mother took sick, Victória controlled the situation.
“Actually, I’d prefer it if he was allowed to rest right now. He’s heavily sedated.”
Victória was getting pissed but she worked to keep her cool. “With all due respect, Doctor ...”
“Sorry, Broomfield.”
“Dr. Broomfield. We recently lost our mother to heart failure. She came in and we never got to see her alive again. May we please see him, just for a minute? I promise we won’t disturb him. We just need to tell him . . .” Victória’s words trailed off then she started crying.
I knew what she was trying to say. “We need to tell him we love him. Please, he really needs to know.” I had to step out of myself on this one. If Padre was attached to a bunch of machines, I really didn’t want to see him that way, but I’d never forgive myself if I allowed my discomfort to stand in the way.
“All right, but please don’t upset him.”
“We won’t.”
“He is so cute. Moses, he looks just like you,” Victória said, watching me feed LM.
“Uh-oh, she thinks I’m cute. Watch out now.” Moses did a little dance around our living room while laughing.
“Don’t let that go to your head. You’re already conceited enough.” I laughed at Moses’ face as he pretended to be hurt.
“Woman, you wounded me.” He sank down on the seat beside me as Victória reached out to hold LM. “Don’t pay her no mind. She’s just jealous the baby doesn’t look like her.”
“He does look like me. He has my ... um ...” I couldn’t even think of a single trait my son showed. He favored me when he was born but he had changed.
Moses said, “Don’t feel bad, sweetie. My mom said our family has very dominant genes.”
“Yeah, whatever.” I got up to put LM down for his nap. I didn’t want him to get used to all the attention he’d been getting. When everybody left and went home, I didn’t want to be stuck carting him around all day because he wanted to be held.
“Sit down and enjoy your sister. I’ll put LM to bed.” Moses kissed me on the top of the head and left us alone.
Victória watched as Moses bundled up LM and carried him upstairs. “Things look like they are going well between you and Moses.”
“Yeah, I honestly can’t complain. He wants to marry me again, the right way this time.”
“Verónica, I’m so happy for you. Have you set a date yet?”
“No, not yet. I really want LM to be older before we do it. At least if he was older, I’d feel better about leaving him alone when we go on our honeymoon.”
“Y’all gonna do a honeymoon too? Wow, I’m impressed. Does Moses have any brothers?”
I laughed out loud. It made me feel good knowing my sister approved of my choice.
“No, sorry. He’s the only one; trust me, he’s enough.”
“Damn. Girl, when you first told me you loved him, I thought you’d lost your damn mind.”
“I know, and you let me know it every chance you got.” I was laughing now, but it wasn’t so funny when we were going through it. My mood immediately shifted; I felt myself feeling emotional again. “You know, Moses may have been right about these mood swings. One minute I’m happy as a pig in shit and the next minute I feel like bawling my eyes out.”
“I’m sure. We’ve been through some major shit. I’m thankful every day just to be alive,” Victória said.
“Why were you and Padre at Moses’ office today?” I knew the answer but I needed to be sure.
Victória’s face got hard and defensive, but I was determined to find out the truth. “Verónica, Moses told us that you didn’t want him going after Tilo. I need his help, though. I have to find her.”
“Why? What good would it do to find her? Will it change anything?” I was desperately trying to understand what I was obviously missing.
“No, it won’t change anything. Then again, she didn’t shoot you and leave you for dead, did she? Now you might be able to pick up the pieces and go on with your life but I can’t. Padre feels the same way because Tilo shot Ramón too. All of our lives have been drastically altered, can’t you see that?”
“Okay, I can see your point, but why does Moses need to be involved?” I asked.
She sighed before she answered. “He doesn’t. If you feel so strongly about it, I’ll get someone else to help. I thought he would be the logical person because he knows Tilo, and he’s familiar with everything that went down. But on a more serious tip, I thought you’d want to find the person who has changed our lives forever too.”
Victória hurt me deeply by insinuating that I didn’t care. In my heart I knew Moses wasn’t going to let it go. I was beginning to realize that I was being unfair to him by asking him to step away. My biggest fear was pissing off the cartel. It consumed so much of Padre’s life. I didn’t want the same thing for me and my family.
I said, “What are you going to do if you find her? Get yourself in trouble?”
“I ain’t gonna lie to you. If I find the bitch, I’m going to kill her. Plain and simple. I can’t go to jail for killing someone who’s already dead. Feel me?”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
TILO ADAMS
“Your bag is over the weight limit.”
I wasn’t paying attention. I’d finally worked up the nerve to leave Atlanta and the stress was more than I anticipated. I just wanted to get on the plane and go to sleep. I stared at the attendant and wished she’d hurry up. She stared at me as well.
“What?” I didn’t have time for this high-yellow heifer to be giving me attitude and shit.
“I told you your suitcase is overweight.”
“So?”
Hell, I didn’t make the damn suitcase.
She rolled her eyes. “So you need to either take out three pounds worth of stuff or pay a fifty-dollar penalty.”
I wanted to reach over the counter and snatch the ugly-ass, no-neck-having bitch.
“Fifty? I ain’t paying no fifty nothing. When did y’all start charging and shit for luggage?”
“Fine.” She stepped over to the scale and placed my suitcase on the floor in front of me. She rolled her eyes again and said, “Next.”
I lowered my Gucci shades, looking the attendant straight in her eyes. “What do you mean
next?
I still need my ticket.”
She looked at me like I was a special person who should be riding on a short bus instead of a plane. “You said you weren’t paying the fee so I’m moving on to the next customer. Now if you could kindly remove your bag, I do have other customers to wait on.”
Even in my crazed mind, I knew better than to threaten airport personnel. Nevertheless, I was very close to doing it. This woman had plucked my last nerve with her condescending attitude. I grabbed my bag and moved off to the side and thought of my next move. I couldn’t believe this was happening, and if the situation were different, I might have waited around for the bitch to get off work and put her ass on a scale or two.
My flight was leaving within the hour. I didn’t have a lot of time so I had no choice but to pay the fee. I needed to get in control of my emotions. I felt like I was teetering on the edge of sanity and a swift breeze could carry me over. I stepped back outside to cool off and have a cigarette. I might have paid the fee right away if the bitch wasn’t giving me attitude, and if I had enough cash in my wallet. My money was in my carry-on and I didn’t want to open it and have a bunch of strangers gawking in my bag. However, my problem was solved when I saw another couple use a credit card to pay their luggage fee at the curb check-in counter. Tossing out my smoke, I approached the check-in.
“Excuse me, sir. Can I check my luggage here?”
“Boarding pass and identification.”
What the fuck has happened to customer service?
Would it have hurt the motherfucker to say good morning? I was nervous as I handed over my fake identification card, but I shouldn’t have been because the man only used my identification to type my name in the computer.
He said, “Put your bag on the scale.”
Hello, can I get a little help with it? It is heavy, you dickhead.
Using both hands, I lifted the bag onto the scale. I was not feeling this whole airport experience. If I didn’t need to get out of town today, I would have caught the damn train.
“Your bag is overweight.”
Ding, ding, ding—tell ’em what he won, Johnny. Of course my bag is overweight, why do you think I’m waving this credit card at you?
He took my card and placed my bag on the belt. As I walked back into the terminal, it took everything in me not to flip the bird to the bitch behind the counter.
I had to stop several times to ask for directions. In my frazzled state, nothing looked familiar. My thoughts were so jumbled in my head, I could barely read my ticket and I completely forgot the do’s and don’ts of the airport security screenings. The line was horrendously long, but I was surprised at how quiet the people were. I hated waiting almost as much as I hated idiots and rudeness, and I’d encountered all of the above. I used the time to put my identification and card away and close my purse. I was beginning to sweat because I wasn’t used to being around so many people.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”
The lady in front of me practically ignored me as she continued to point at her ear. My mind told me she was being disrespectful, and I wished I had a gun so I could show her who the fuck she was dealing with.
“But I can’t hear what you’re saying.” I poked her in the back.
How do you expect me to answer you if you’ve got your back turned to me and I can’t hear what you’re saying?
The guy behind me started talking too, but I refused to turn around. I didn’t want to speak with him at all. He was wearing some torn-up shoes and was probably blowing rent money just to take this trip. Nine times out of ten, he was looking for someone to bail him out of whatever drama he had imposed on his life.
The lady said, “I’m not speaking to you. I’m on the phone.”
Well damn, how was I supposed to know she was pointing to an earpiece?
I saw her lips moving and she was looking at me at one point. “Sorry,” I mumbled. As I looked around, everyone appeared to be on the phone talking to someone. I started to feel left out because I didn’t have anyone I could call and shoot the shit with. Unwanted tears welled in my eyes; the painful reminder almost brought me to my knees. I stumbled and the man with the fucked-up shoes grabbed my arm.
“I got it,” I said as I snatched my arm back. Perhaps I spoke a little too loud from the way people stared. The last thing I wanted was to draw attention to myself, but it seemed like everything I did had the opposite effect. I decided to ignore everyone around me and concentrate on getting through to the gate. “Boarding pass and identification?”
I tried to walk past the lady sitting on the chair. I saw her lips moving. I tuned her out thinking she was also speaking on the phone. She reached out and grabbed me as I was walking past. I snatched away but was quickly restrained.
“Get your hands off of me, I didn’t do anything.” I was furious. This whole airport thing was just too much for my fragile state of mind. The people, the pace, protocol, and procedures were simply too much. I was so focused on what I needed to do in New York that I had forgotten what I needed to do to get there.
“You cannot go past this point without a boarding pass and identification.”
I had male guards on each side of me holding my arms. “Okay, I have both of these items in my purse.” I was being pulled over to the side, and I was afraid I would have to go to the back of the line.
“Where are you taking me?”
Do they know who I am?
My thoughts were in hyper drive.
The cute guard said, “We’re not taking you anywhere. We just needed to get you out of the way until we got your identification. You’re supposed to have them in your hand before you approach a TSA agent. Didn’t you see the signs?”
“I’m sorry, I haven’t flown in a minute and I keep forgetting all this nonsense we have to endure. My boarding pass is in the side pocket, but I’m afraid I put my identification back in my wallet.” I smiled, hoping to take all the testosterone back down a notch or two. Instead of allowing me an opportunity to give them the items myself, one of them retrieved my pass while the other handed me my wallet. I showed him the identification while the other one ran my purse through the x-ray machine.
“Where are you traveling to?”
Was this any of his motherfucking business? Better yet, it was on the ticket. Couldn’t he read? I didn’t get a chance to answer.
The less attractive one said, “Is this your carry-on?”
The one who had taken my purse had returned it and was looking at my other bag all crazy. Since I didn’t see anyone else getting this type of personalized attention, I was getting suspicious. I realized I was probably being paranoid because the bonds I stole from the Mendoza family were in that bag but I was incapable of stopping myself. Part of me wanted to deny ownership but—on the off chance everything was on the up and up—I ’fessed up.
“Yeah.” I was about to hit the panic button. If the agent even attempted to empty out my bag, I was going to take my chances running. Even though there was nothing illegal about carrying bearer bonds, I had no idea whose blood was on them.
“We need to run your bag through the scanner.” The prick didn’t even wait to see if I was going to object. He slung the shit on the belt and personally viewed the contents.
Booya!
I felt like I had swished a three-point basket. I could tell the officer was disappointed that he didn’t find anything that he could use to detain me. They gave me back my boarding pass and ID.
“You can pick up your bag on the other side once you go through the scan. You won’t be needing your identification again but you might want to keep your boarding pass handy. Have a nice day.”
“You have a nice day too,” I answered. I’d practically shit my pants and needed to go to the bathroom and check for skid marks.
Jackasses.
I started fussing with myself as I inched my way to the screeners.
Unless you have this secret desire to spend the rest of your life sitting in a six-by-nine cell, I suggest you get your shit together.
People were giving me funny looks. I wanted to yell at them so bad it hurt. Why were people so nosey anyhow? What was going on with me ain’t have nothing to do with them. I felt myself mentally detach from my body. I allowed the calm me to march ahead of the angry me, so Ms. Angry wouldn’t get me into any more trouble.
I saw the line for screening, but Ms. Angry was about to walk right past it as if she were exempt from it. Another officer stopped her, and I was forced to join her before she started acting a fool.
“What now? Am I supposed to get butt-assed naked now?” I looked around, seeking the support from angry passengers who’d had enough of their antics.
The officer said, “No, that won’t be necessary but you do need to remove your shoes, sweater, any electronic devices, any change you may have in your pockets, and a belt if you’re wearing one. Place those items in one of these bins. You will be told when to walk through the scanner.”
“What, are we in grade school again? What the fuck do you think I could possibly put in my shoes?” I tried to shut my other half down, but Ms. Angry was pissed off. In my head I knew what I was supposed to do but getting my body to do it was the difficult part.
“You’d be surprised.” The officer acted like he was used to these types of outbursts and moved on, repeating a similar spiel to others in line.
What is he going to do if I refuse? This has to be a violation of my rights. I’m not doing it.
We were holding up the line and people behind us started walking around us, shooting us nasty looks as they passed.
“This bitch is nuttier than all outdoors,” a passenger said to another.
“Yeah, I just hope she isn’t on my flight. I’m not up for any foolishness when we get up in the air.”
“I know that’s right,” chimed a third passenger.
I looked around to see who they were talking about and all eyes were on me. I could only assume I was the nut they were referring to, so I made a conscious effort to ignore the voice raging in my head.
Getting with the program, I took off everything I thought would be a problem: toe ring, watch, bracelet, and earrings. Once I was finished with those items, I reached behind me and undid my bra. I slid the straps down my arms and reached under my shirt and pulled it off. I didn’t want the little metal hooks triggering an alarm, which would draw even more attention to me. Satisfied that I had taken off everything that needed to be scanned, I stuffed my bra inside my shoes and put them on the conveyor belt. As I waited on the other side for all of my things, I couldn’t help but overhear a rude comment.
“Good thing that scanner doesn’t detect crazy,” someone said.
If I weren’t so busy trying to collect all my things from the conveyor belt, I might have gone off. It probably was a good thing I didn’t, because even though I was trying to be low key, I was still drawing attention. I looked over my shoulder and noticed the same officer who had handled my bags was behind me.
“Did I do something else wrong?” It was a struggle not to yell at him and ask that he leave me the fuck alone.
“No, why’d you ask?” He had to be kidding. If he got any closer to me, I could have gotten his imprint off my ass.
“Oh, since you were still hanging around I thought—”
“I get paid to hang around.” He chuckled, but I didn’t find anything funny. His presence was making me nervous.
“Could you possibly hang somewhere else?” I muttered under my breath. This motherfucker had jokes. Before he could respond I grabbed the last of my things and followed the crowd to the terminals.