I smile at Delilah, who is a better ally than I could have ever imagined. “You’re very kind, and I have no doubt your friends are very nice, but Porto is our home. Valentina will be happy there. Please don’t worry about us.”
Her lips are pursed, and I’m not sure I’ve allayed any concerns, so I try again. “Antonio is a complicated man, and even though I’ve known him my whole life, I’m still unwrapping the package. But what I do know is that he’s more than he shows the world.”God, I hope I’m right.
“If you change your mind, or need anything, whatever it might be—you call me.” She hands me a business card, and I clutch it in my hand. “I gave Valentina a card too, and I made her memorize my number in case she’s ever in trouble and can’t reach you.”
“Thank you.”I pray she never needs to call Delilah, because if she does, something will have gone terribly wrong.“I don’t know how I’ll ever repay your kindness.”
“Take good care of Valentina.” Her expression softens. “Help her grow up to be a woman who knows her own mind and has the courage to follow her dreams, wherever they take her. That’ll be thanks enough.”
“I want those things for her too.”And so much more.
She’s quiet for a moment, and the air around us grows mournful. I can almost hear the angels weep. “I was going to tell you that twelve-year-old girls can be resilient. I know from experience,” she adds, her voice hoarse. “Even when bad shit happens, they can rise above the ashes, and go on to live a good life. But I don’t need to tell you. I think you already know that the events of childhood, awful as they might be, don’t have to define the women we become.”
I nod, wrestling with emotion. Sometimes it takes a stranger to drill down into the darkness and sum up our worst fears, bathing them in light, where everything seems possible. Although I suspect Delilah is more of a kindred spirit than a stranger.
It remains to be seen how the next chapters of my life will turn out. Or if the events of my childhood will define me as a woman. But Valentina? She will rise like a phoenix, even if I have to drag her from the ashes until she takes her first breath. Her life will be amazing.I’ll make sure of it.
Delilah takes my hands and squeezes. “I’m going to the tarmac to say hello to Antonio and save him from Gray, who I’m sure is giving him an earful. There’s a flight attendant on board if you need anything. She won’t bother you unless you call for her. Take as long as you need with Valentina. We have time.”
She turns and walks off the plane, cloaked in the kind of confidence that money can’t buy. I watch for a moment while Delilah descends the stairs. I don’t pretend to know what they are, but I have no doubt that her scars run deep too.
Something stirs in the middle cabin, and I gather my courage and follow the sound.
Valentina’s still fast asleep. The fleece blanket that was tucked around her is on the floor. I pick it up and take a seat next to her. She doesn’t stir.
I would like to freeze this moment in time. Where she’s a carefree child who hasn’t been exposed to the burdens of life.The evils.When Jorge left, she fretted for a while, and she was angry at him for walking out without a single goodbye. But he’d become so volatile that I think part of her was as relieved as the rest of us that he left. This won’t be like that. Isabel’s death is going to cut deep.
I sweep my hand over her cheek, pushing some stray strands of hair off her face. “Hey, sleepyhead.”
Her eyes pop open and she bolts upright, lunging into my arms. “Lala!”
My heart squeezes at the name she’s called me since she began to talk. Now she uses it only when her friends aren’t around. As a teenager, I played a game with myself, pretending Lala was her way of saying Mama.Lis so close toM, I’d often tell myself. For a long time, I actually believed it.
“Where’sMamai? Is she coming with us?”
I wrap my arms tighter, rubbing her back, inhaling the sweet scent of the fruity shampoo she loves.
I’m going to break her heart.There’s no choice.
“Mamaidied a few hours ago. She’s with God, and with my mother who loved her so much.”
Valentina pulls back, cocking her head, while she searches my face. I’m not sure anything I said registered. “Died?” she asks, as if trying out the word, like a newborn colt tries its legs.
I nod.
The rush of emotion engulfs her, before the wail comes. It’s painful to watch. She latches onto me, sobbing and shaking. I murmur softly into her hair and rub circles on her back, like Isabel did for me when mymamaidied. But it’s not enough, because the hole in her heart can’t be filled from the outside.
When a young girl loses her mother, she loses a part of herself. Not a part that exists right then, but a piece of her future self. In its place, there’s a grief so pervasive even her fingernails hurt. There’s also the daunting fear of the unknown that takes on a life of its own, growing even more formidable when you’re alone in your bed at night.
But the worst part of losing yourmamaiis that awful black hole, bleak and empty, with tentacles that burrow into every corner of your being, feasting on your soul.
I would do anything to ward off the demons. To spare her the pain. But even if I could, some of it’s necessary. She won’t heal properly without the journey. All I can do is lift the torch so that it’s not so dark, and walk with her.
“She can’t be dead, Lala,” Valentina sobs. “She wasn’t even sick. Are you sure? Did you see her?”
“I’m sure,” I answer quietly, wishing I could say differently. “I love her, too,querida. Cry all you need. I’m right here. I love you, Valentina, and I’m going to take good care of you. Be sad she’s gone, but don’t worry. We’ll get through this together. I promise.”
I’m not sure how long we cling to each other. Or how many questions she asks.How? When? Who? Why? Where?I answer every question as best I can without frightening her, but in truth I have so few answers.Perhaps it’s for the best.