Present Day
Seven Years after Hector’s Departure
Chapter 22
Home
On the flight back home from the lecture in California, I didn’t sleep as I usually did whenever I was in the air. I couldn’t find a comfortable position, and I was left with all that time to think about the encounter with Hector—to think about our past.
I thought about that last week before he left seven years ago. Over the years, I had replayed over and over in my head every last thing he’d said. I pieced together conversations from memory, parsing them for clues as to why he had betrayed me. I did that for years, always coming up empty.
It didn’t make sense. The self he presented to me seemed so genuine, it had been inconceivable to believe it was all an act. But as the weeks passed, then the months, and finally the years, without a word from him—I had to admit he had been simplythatgood. A master snake in the grass, and a fucking fantastic actor who had me believing that he actually gave a shit.
What followed in the wake of my destruction was devastating, and he didn’t have to deal with it—I did. The humiliation had been somewhat internal. The majority of the hospital wasn’t that involved, but those in the oncology department, as well as any of the physicians who knew me personally, all knew what happened.
It wasn’t long before the vipers got to work with the gossip. As far as the oncology department was concerned, I was a slut trying to sleep myself to the top. Dr. Medina came out great in that version of the story. He wasn’t having any of it and decided to leave after publishinghistrial in order to get as far away from me as possible.
The worst part of it all was that I was credited with the reason for Heartland Metro losing a rockstar physician. It was a long time, many years, before I regained the trust of my colleagues.
I was lucky that I had enough people in my corner, people who knew my character well. If it weren’t for them, I’m not sure I could have stayed at Heartland.
Then, there was Keach and his small group of friends who rarely let me forget what had happened.
It was a pleasure when, four years after the trial was published, Dr. Keach lost a hefty malpractice suit that resulted in the loss of his medical license. The only thing that could have made that moment better was if the demise of his career hadn’t come at the cost of his patients’ care.
The hospital was forced to take a side publicly. Not wanting negative publicity, Heartland Metro distanced itself from the Keach name and declined ongoing lucrative support from the family. The day the maternity ward took down the Keach name from its front door sign was one of the best days of my life. Dr. Keach was gone, and he wasn’t leaving his last name behind to haunt me in the hospital hallways.
I had been gonea week on a small book tour prior to my lecture, so I wasn’t surprised that Sara was over for dinner to welcome my return. On any other day, I would have been happy to see her, but now that I had grim news to share, I wasn’t so sure I wanted her to be there to witness Dad blow a gasket.
How could I go into my father’s home and tell him the ghost of one of the darkest periods in my life was back? He would find out sooner or later. I kept nothing from him.
The house smelled like heaven, but I didn’t recognize the aroma as one from Dad’s repertoire of recipes.
“Mmm,” I moaned. “What did you make,Papi?”
“Mija!” He turned to me, apron still wrapped around his waist, and hugged me. “Mole,”he said. “Are you hungry? I tried to make Sara wait for you, but I couldn’t stop thecomelonaof your friend from digging in.” Dad pointed at her with the tongs in his hand.
“Hi, Caro,” Sara said between bites of what I was sure was her second helping.
“You know how to makemole?” I asked Dad.
“I wish,” Dad said. “Moleis a full-day affair unless you buy the pre-made stuff, which is really just sad. I got this from one of Sofia’s friends.”
“Who?” I asked. I thought I knew all of her friends, but I didn’t think she knew anyone who knew how to make this.
“Ileana. She works at the bar a few days a month.”
I thought back and remembered seeing her a few times over the years. Ileana was warm and friendly, and her smile radiated like the sun. It was hard not to feel lighter when you were around her—and this coming from someone who hardly knew her.
“How’d you getmolefrom her?” I asked.
“She doesn’t work full time, and mainly works odd jobs. I went toLa Oficinalast Tuesday, and I got to talking to her.” Leave it to Dad to make friends with a bartender. “When she mentioned she likes to cook, and I realized she lives pretty close by, I offered to pay her to share a few of her meals with me every week. She agreed to make extra for tonight, for your welcome home dinner. I didn’t think she’d makemolewhen I told her it was a special occasion.”
It warmed me to think of this woman I hardly knew spending two days makingmolefor my homecoming. I had only been gone a week, so I felt more than special to this stranger. I’d have to thank her when I saw her next.
It wouldn’t have been polite to ruin such a perfect dinner with bad news. It could wait until we had finished our meal. My mouth watered when Dad lifted the lid to the pot of chicken smothered in brown sauce. I hadn’t had a goodmolein years. I served myself rice and a healthy helping of the chicken. Dad followed suit, and we both joined Sara at the table, though she was nearly done with her current helping.
“What even ismole?” Sara asked as she licked her fingers.