“Mom! Please, listen.” I wait a moment, and when she doesn’t speak again, I continue. “You could have prevented this if you had given me the HPV vaccine. I wouldn’t be here right now if you had done that one little thing.”
“I don’t know about that sort of thing,” Mom says dismissively.
“My doctor told you about it. I was there. You turned it down. Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You have to understand. That vaccine is for young girls who are lost causes.”
I shake my head, and I’m furious. “No, Mom. It’s for everyone. Men and women. Everyone needs to get it when they’re young—everyone.”
“Everyone who does . . .things,” she argues, not willing to put it into words.
“Say it, mom. Say what you mean.”
She just shakes her head, and Dad’s face is buried in his hands.
“You want to say it’s only for whores,” I snap.
“Watch your language,niña. These are not things we talk about.” Mom stands and takes the small medallion on her gold necklace between her fingers so she can play with it as she paces.
“Mom, most women get HPV in their lives. It can take years to turn to cancer. Pilar could get this cancer too.”
“No,” Mom says. “Really, Valentina, I can’t believe you would talk about this and with your father present. You have no shame. Besides, Pilar is married.”
“Good. I’m glad Dad’s here. He needs to hear this too. Pilar can get this cancer even if she’s married, Mom. She could have gotten it before—”
“No!” Mom shakes her head. “She didn’t get it before.”
“She could get it from her husband, Mom! You could get it!”
Mom stops and blinks at me. She shakes her head. “I can’t believe we are talking about this—especially in front of your father. Valentina Almonte, you were raised better than to talk about this.”
I’ll never get through to her, but at least Dad displays some form of shame. He hangs his head and pulls on his hair as he listens to me. At least I know he feels somewhat guilty.
“Mom, I haven’t been a virgin for a long time. Why is that so hard to talk about?”
Mom turns to Dad, swinging her purse over her shoulder. “Benjamin, please take me to the hotel. This conversation is over.” Then she turns to me. “If you want me to come back, missy, none of that talk.No seas cochina.”
At that moment, and with those words, I give up on my mother. “No, Mom. I don’t want you to come back.”
“Valentina!”
“I mean it. Dad, you are welcome back if you’d like, but don’t bring her with you. Not unless she regrets not getting us that vaccine before it was too late.” He nods, and I add, “I know you feel bad about this, Dad.”
He clears his throat. “Um, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” He kisses my forehead for the first time in I don’t know how many years and looks back at me as he leaves the room.
The next morning,I’m happy to find Dad has respected my wishes and left Mom at the hotel, though I’m sure she didn’t protest. After speaking with Dr. Ramirez yesterday, he looks less forlorn, though he admits he carries guilt for not being more involved in our health and leaving it up to Mom, who, let’s face it, didn’t do a good job. I tell him I forgive him because I really do.
“Why can’t you forgive your mother too?” he asks.
“Because she doesn’t believe she did anything wrong.”
I’m relieved when Dad lets it go. I change the subject and tell him about all the people I have met besides Rory. He smiles when I describe how Mandy, Tlali, and Izel welcomed me and have kept my spirits up.
“This place suits you,” Dad says.
I smile. “It does. Doesn’t it?”
I tell him about Rory, though I only give him the PG version, and he laughs when I describe the confrontation between him and Chema.