As we sped towards London by car, barely any words were exchanged between me and the man who was determined to break my heart a second time. Words from the people I loved echoed in my mind.
"They said she doesn't have much time left and we should say our goodbyes."
As soon as we got home, I'd tell my mother off. During our phone calls, I didn't have the nerve, but sitting in the car for hours had built an irritation in me that I knew I couldn't subdue once I saw her face. Tía had been diagnosed with Coronary Artery Disease two years ago when she had a heart attack in the hospital---right before the Christmas Liam and I made up. Pneumonia is what my mom had told all of us. We'd had no clue. Now my beloved tía was on her deathbed and the only person who'd had time to prepare to lose a loved one was my mother.
Bitterness filled my lungs as I wiped a tear to clear my view of the road ahead. Though, there wasn't much point. There was no pavement and no cars; my emotions were all I could see.
"I wonder how Lily's doing," Liam whispered from the passenger's seat.
And Liam. "Let's break up. You deserve someone better."
Since the phone call from my mom, we hadn't said a word about our relationship, so I assumed there was a silent agreement that it'd go on the back burner until after the funeral. But there was one thing I wanted clear.
"Liam. Don't tell anyone what's happening between us." I glanced over to see his expression, sombre since the day the news came. No---it'd been sombre for months. "Our family doesn't need more worries." Besides, I knew we would figure things out together.
There was an unsettling silence.
"Liam!"
"Of course!"
An awkward atmosphere permeated the car but there was nothing I could say to clear it. After all, our problems were on hold.
***
I hated hospitals. They were places of pain and death and only the thought of us finally no longer being alone pressed me forward. They were sitting in the waiting room, the four of them.
"Mami!" I ran up to my mother who jumped from her chair and hugged me.
Liam met his parents' arms as well, but their embrace had less urgency.
"Mami, tell me what's happening." I gripped my mother's hands. She nodded, glanced at the Santos' and pulled me aside towards a small hallway of vending machines.
"Yesterday, they brought the other doctor in. Last night, she said surgery is possible. Your tía didn't want surgery last year, but what could I do?" My mother's eyes moistened. "She had heart failure so I told them to go ahead. So they did it early this morning. It went good, but she hasn't woken up."
I smiled nervously. "Then that's good---"
My mom shook her head. "She's in a coma. They don't know why or if or when she'll wake up."
No... "What kind of surgery did she get?"
"I don't remember what it's called."
"Mom! You're all tía has, you have to know these things. You two---" Now was the time. "What's wrong with you?! This is serious, you can't just screw around. You have to make sure she sees the doctor and takes her medicine! You're all she has and she's stubborn so you can't just---"
"Alex." A hand landed on my arm and I looked over to see Mr. Santos.
"Not to mention none of us knew anything! Why did you hide it from us?! For two years?!"
"Lower your voice," Mr. Santos told me. "You're in a hospital."
"How could you?" I hissed. "Aren't we family?"
My mother hardened her sad face and stared at me, arms folded. "Es porque somos una familia, mijo." It's because we're family, my son.
I didn't understand that reasoning at all.
The doctors were only allowing one person to see Tía at a time, so I went back first without Liam. The sight of my second mother hooked up to tubes and monitors brought tears to my eyes. "Oh, Tía." I touched her arm with my fingertips. Her morena wrinkles had a greyish tint. "Please don't leave us. We need you."
I glanced at the heart monitor pulsating at a regular rhythm. "Tía, do you remember when you made me practice Padre Nuestro every day for a month?" I was eight that Spring I learned the Lord's Prayer in Spanish and groaned every time she gave me a line. But I never disobeyed my tía. Ever. "In college, I met a man who thought it was sexy that I was Venezuelan. He asked me to speak Spanish."
We were in his car, his head between my legs as he made the strange request. I'd just rolled my eyes at meeting yet another white guy with a Latino kink, having matured from the time I was in first year, ready to punch a guy for calling me a mariposa. I wasn't going to ruin the mood by telling him I couldn't really speak Spanish, so I recited the only thing I actually could that'd sound fluent.
"So I said Padre Nuestro. Tía, I'm going to Hell, so if you leave now, I won't ever see you again."
When I stepped back into the waiting room, two more people were there: my uncle and his wife.
I hugged my aunt first then glanced at my uncle. He lowered his gaze, breaking eye contact. However, in the years before, there was disdain as he snubbed me. At this moment, there was guilt like he was ashamed.
"Liam," my mother called over to where the Santos family were sitting, "go ahead and see Rosa." She was standing, along with my uncle. They were brother and sister for sure. My mother probably hadn't taken a seat in hours.
Mrs. Santos stood up after Liam. "Alex, the five of us will head to our house. Your mom's staying the night here."
I opened my mouth to protest but my mother cut me off. "We don't know when she'll wake up. There's no use in you staying here."
Mrs. Santos put a gentle hand on my arm. "Crista will call us as soon as she gets any news or Rosa wakes up."
Liam passed us to head to the room. His nervous gait unnerved me when I considered what kind of thoughts might enter his head from seeing someone dying in his mental state. But only one person could go back at a time, so I had no choice but to pray for the best.
"What about Uncle Nicolas and Aunt Marie?"
"We're staying at a hotel."
My mother tossed out her hand. "¡Ay! Ven a mi casa. I'm staying at Angela's house, anyway." She gestured to Mrs. Santos.
"No, no," my uncle said. He never spoke Spanish in public if he didn't have to. "Marco and Mateo are coming tomorrow. And well..."
And well, he was a snob too good for our little abode.
I rolled my eyes and headed over to where Lily sat below the low-volume TV, flipping through a magazine.
"Hey, Lily." I smiled as I took the chair beside her. She was reading Maclean's.
"Hi, Alex."
"What are you reading?" I leaned over to take a peek at the text.
"Parliamentarians of the Year Awards."
"...Oh." She could be so childish yet so mature, sweet Lily. "How are you?"
"I'm despondent." I smiled at what had to be a school vocabulary word. "But Mom said to just keep sending Tía Rosa my love and thoughts and that Tía Rosa will make the decision she thinks is best."
Blinking back tears, I nodded. Lily's bottom lip quivered and I attempted to brush her hair behind her ear. The Dominican genes were real. Liam's hair was curly too, but Lily's even more so and she kept it long. "Let me braid your hair tonight?"
Tears spilled down Lily's cheeks as she cried silently and I knew she was thinking of Tía's hands in her hair. Still, she nodded.
Liam walked into the waiting room, expression no different than when he left. I watched him go up to his mother who hugged him, her lips beside his ear moving in what looked like, Are you okay?
I wondered if he'd already talked to his parents about moving back. When I'd spoken with Liam's mom on the phone to tell her what was going on, she acted like there was nothing we could do for Liam but wait for him to reach out. So, I knew she hadn't been the one to suggest he come home. "It's just you two, together up there," she'd said. "You have to be each others' rock." But if her son had pleaded, maybe she'd changed her thinking.
It obviously wasn't like I thought I could handle Liam on my own. That was the whole reason I called her. But if Liam didn't want to help himself, I couldn't help him. I couldn't change his job for him or call his psychiatrist to say "something's wrong."
But there was no use in thinking these things now. Now, we were at home and not alone, and they could see Liam for themselves. I didn't know what would happen between us in the coming days or if Liam would change for the better or worse. The uncertain worries mixed with my hurt over Tía twisted in my stomach and made me feel queasy.