Highway Kismet

A Conundrum

"Aisle?" I frowned.

"When you get married one day to whomever you love." She clarified.

I scrunched my nose and felt my cheeks get a little warm, "Ew! I don't want to get married!"

She let out a hearty chuckle, "Okay, for now, no marriage talk."

I wrapped my arms around her neck and hugged her, "I will never leave you, mommy."

"Promise?" She asked.

I nodded, "Uh-huh," With my arms still around her neck, I pulled away to look at her, "If I go who will I have tea parties with?"

She laughed once more, her eyes always went smaller when she laughed and her nose crinkled a little at the top, "Oh dear, that would be a conundrum, wouldn't it?"

I frowned and rolled my eyes, "Mommy I'm only five, don't use such big words."

She tapped my nose affectionately, "A conundrum means a problem."

"Oh," I drawled, "So if you ever leave me, it will be a very very big codundrum."

She laughed once more before correcting me, "Conundrum."

"¿Abrazos y besos?" She asked and that was our thing when we were celebrating something or feeling a little sad.

I smiled widely at her and cheered in the English translation, "Hugs and kisses!"

I wrapped my arms tightly around her and attacked her face with tons of kisses while she laughed wholeheartedly.

She pecked my cheek, "I love you so much, baby."

"I love you too mommy," I stretched my arms out wide, "This much."

"Is she asleep?" My father's voice was distinctly heard.

"Yeah, I –" Eric began but my eyes fluttered open and the glee I felt moments ago from the dream was replaced with a hollow pit of dread.

"I'm awake," I said softly.

I looked up to see my father standing above my seat, he looked a little hesitant, but he spoke after a moment of contemplation, "May we speak?"

I exhaled; I knew what he wanted to talk about, but I wasn't too sure if I wanted to speak about it. He probably had many questions, that only I could answer. I understood, as my father, he was probably concerned so I nodded.

Eric stood up and walked to sit elsewhere before my father took his seat. I didn't look at him but instead went back to looking out the window. I could feel his gaze on me as well as the hesitance – he probably didn't know how to ask questions without sounding insensitive.

He eventually cleared his throat before asking, "How long has it been since she was diagnosed?"

"Officially, it's been ten years but there were signs before that," I answered.

"Ten years," He repeated and paused for a moment, "So are you telling me for ten years you have shouldered this burden alone?"

I looked at him sharply, "It was never a burden, my mom got sick and I took care of her," I knew I was being snappy and it was most likely the anxiety speaking so I toned it down when I added, "Abuela and Papa helped as much as they could."

He sighed and appeared to be walking on eggshells around me, I knew he had a lot more to say but considering circumstances, he reserved all comments.