“Marcela, this better be a joke,” my father warned. “If it is, it’s a particularly unfunny one.”
The acid in my stomach churned, and I shot Bailey an I’m dying here look. She gave me a weak double thumbs-up for me to keep at it. “Papá, the clinic needs me right now. It would be bad to leave them in a lurch.”
Lie. Lie. Lie. But somehow, even though I’d had the best of intentions when I dialed his number, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the truth yet.
“I know of another clinic in a lurch,” my father said through what sounded like clenched teeth. “Mine. Tu familia.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, and Bailey poured me a second glass of wine in sympathy. “I know. But you’ve managed this long without me, surely—”
“How long do they need you for?” he asked, his tone clipped.
Indefinitely. “Uh, I’m not sure. They’re looking for a replacement. A couple more weeks?”
He muttered a slew of something I couldn’t understand. “You’ve put me in a bad spot, Marcela. The house is ready and sitting there, and I’ve been setting things up at the clinic, too. You better be here for your birthday. Your mamá has been planning a big family dinner, and I will not see her disappointed. Comprendes?”
“Yes, Papá,” I said, shrinking under that tone of his. “I promise I’ll be there for my birthday.”
Even if it wasn’t to stay. I pressed my face into the throw pillow I had in my lap. I was lying to my father. And leaving my family in a tough spot—for what? To have some crazy, kinky relationship with a boy? I was going to hell.
Worst. Daughter. Ever.
“Good night, Marcela,” my father said coolly.
“Good night. Tell Mamá I miss her.”
“Tell her yourself. Or are you too busy to call your own mother now?”
I swallowed past the dryness in my throat. “Of course not. I’ll call her tomorrow.”
The phone went dead.
I tossed the phone onto the love seat and groaned as I ran my hands over my face.
“That bad, huh?” Bailey asked from her cross-legged position on the floor. She twirled a forkful of spaghetti in the bowl she was holding. She looked so comfortable there hanging out in my apartment. I’d rarely invited her over because if I was home, I was studying. And usually she had to drag me to go out so I’d see something besides my four walls. But it was nice having her here now.
“I lied through my goddamn teeth,” I said, reaching for the glass of wine. “I don’t know how I’m going have this conversation. I thought I could, but how am I supposed to tell him I’m going to deviate from the path I’ve been planning all my life? He’ll hate me, Bay. Hate me.”
She frowned. “Your dad may get mad, but he won’t hate you. You’re just trying to live your own life.”
“No, you don’t know him. Forgiveness is not his strong suit.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, my sister, Luz, got pregnant at seventeen and . . . didn’t go through with the pregnancy. My dad cut her out of our family like she didn’t exist. She was just a kid who made a bad decision with her boyfriend, but there were no second chances. That was it. Done. He gave her money to get an apartment and then told her not to come home again.”
“Wow, that’s . . . harsh.”
“I know,” I said, between gulps of wine. “Now you know why I’m terrified to tell him. Luz has struggled every day since then—alone with no support around her. If Andre, my oldest brother, or I want to talk to her or see her, we have to do it on the sly without my parents knowing. She puts on a brave face and is too proud to accept money from any of us, but I can’t imagine what that must be like. My family is everything to me. Going through life without them being there, I don’t even want to think about it.”
Bailey set her bowl in her lap, sympathy crossing her features. “Your brothers wouldn’t disown you.”
I sighed. “No, they wouldn’t. But how could I walk away from my mom?”
“It’s not like you’re breaking the law or anything. You don’t think your mom would forgive you?”
“Not if my dad told her not to. She does everything he says without question. It nearly killed her when he kicked Luz out, but she didn’t stop him. Honor thy husband and all that crap. She just went to church and prayed for days on end, lighting candles and saying her rosary novena. I remember crying for my sister at night because I had no idea why they wouldn’t let her come home. I was too young at the time for them to tell me the real reason, so all I knew was that she did a ‘very bad thing.’ After that, I thought anytime I broke a rule, the same thing would happen to me.”
“Geez, talk about pressure. No wonder you’re such a straight arrow,” she said, shaking her head.