A Legacy of Lies

Chapter 1 - When Valentine Died

Valentine was dead.

Maria Rodriguez felt guilty for feeling relieved. A burden had been lifted off her shoulder. Her mother had lived with Alzheimer's for nearly a decade and instead of gaining a mother, Maria had been forced to watch all the parts of her mother slowly disappear. In the beginning Valentine used to forget things and needed constant reminders. Over time, the forgetfulness became frustration first at herself and then at Maria. Finally, Maria had to admit that Valentine needed help beyond what she could manage. That's when she had made the decision to put Valentine in an assisted living facility that specialized in caring for patients suffering from dementia.

Her income from her waitressing job wasn't enough to help with the cost of Valentine's care so she advertised for a roommate. It was a two bedroom, rent controlled apartment in New York so she asked for more than it was worth. Maria never imagined that the person who answered the flyers she posted around the neighborhood would be Sabrina Davenport. Their arrangement was convenient for them both. Valentine worked nights and Maria worked days. Their paths didn't cross much. Sabrina usually left cash in Maria's empty cookie jar.

Neither of them had been looking for a friend. Sabrina had needed a place to sleep, and Maria had needed extra money to help with her bills. Feeding others came naturally to Maria. She had helped in the nuns in the orphanage kitchen, learning how to cook very young. Often, she volunteered to help cook community outreach dinner for her church. Waiting table for strangers wasn't nearly the same. It started with leaving meals for Sabrina.

Before long, Maria found extra money stashed in the cookie jar when it wasn't even the end of the month. She took it without saying anything. In return she left daily meals for Sabrina. It was her way of saying thank you to her roommate. Sabrina never asked anything of Maria. She had learned long ago that if anyone did something nice for you, they always wanted something in return. She didn't like the feeling of owning her roommate for anything other than the furnished room she received in return for rent. It was furnished so she didn't care that the cost of the one room might be inflated. One night when her plans fell through, she returned home to the smell of cooked food. To her surprise a covered plate was waiting for her on the table. A simple post-it with her name on it. Her stomach had growled. If she hadn't been hungry the plate would have gone untouched.

She didn't want to owe Maria, so she had left money in the cookie jar. After that there was always food on the table waiting for Sabrina. Shared meals created a connection between two solitary women. Eventually, the meals drew them to the table and shared conversations began to build a connection neither of them expected. Two guarded loners miraculously started to become friends.

Maria started to fill the vacuum in Sabrina's life that had been created when her mother disappeared. For Maria, Sabrina became the confidante her mother had started to become before the disease started to eat away at her. Then during a moment of lucidity, Valentine dropped the bomb. On that visit, the one Maria would not easily forget, Valentine had lit up because she had recognized her daughter. She was overjoyed to have Maria visit her. Mother and daughter had sat in the expansive lawn lost in pleasant conversation. This is how Maria had always imagined it. She told her mother about her roommate and even showed her a picture. Valentine had grown quiet as she had looked at the picture.

"She is all grown up." Valentine had said staring at the picture. She had asked to have a closer look and to Maria's surprise her long gnarly finger had touched the screen with a melancholic nostalgia. "My darling Sabrina is all grown up."

"You know Sabrina?" Maria had asked. There was so much Valentine had forgotten. Then the implication of her mother's words had eluded her.

"That's your sister, Sabrina. My mother Esther would have it. I'm sure I left it in her house." Maria rummaged for the little pad and pen she kept in her bag. She used it to take orders from diners when she was at work. She gave it to Valentine who scribbled down an address. "I can't remember but I left something important with her. Mom will remember." Just like that, she was gone. Maria's visits with Valentine were always like this.