Page 15 of Never Finished

Ever since her diagnosis, there was a sense of melancholy whenever I stepped inside. Our roles were reversed now, my sister and I caring for her with the help of an in-home caregiver.

The nurse was great and worked her ass off. We really appreciated everything she was doing for our mom. But it was unnerving having a stranger in the house caring for your formerly fiercely independent mother. My father used to joke it wasn’t worth it to say “bless you” to my mother when she sneezed because she would take offense and respond with “What? You think I need your help with blessings?”

To make matters worse, I never knew what I was walking into—whether Ma was having a good or bad day, if she was present, or living in a different decade. It was stressful to experience as a child, but I could only imagine how disorienting it was for her, being corrected on little things like the date or what her husband’s name was.

When I pulled into the driveway, I noticed it wasn’t the little sedan the nurse usually drove, but Maria’s truck. Worried, I hurried into the house to find my little sister sitting on the couch, watching a late-night comedian, a tangle of knitting in her hands concealing her growing belly.

“You haven’t given up on that mess yet?” I asked her, nodding my head to the pink mass of yarn piled on her stomach.

“Mama didn’t raise no quitter. Besides, she knitted a receiving blanket for every one of us and I am going to carry on that tradition for this little one,” she said, not bothering to look up from her project, her brows furrowed in concentration. “I just wish Mama remembered she knows how to do this so she could show me how.”

That statement struck a chord, but I pushed the pang down. “What are you doing here, anyway? What happened to Sheila?” I asked, referring to the nurse.

“Her daughter spiked a fever, so she had to leave early,” Maria explained.

“What about Sofia? You should get your rest before that baby gets here,” I told her as if she actually needed reminding.

“Why bother Sofia with this? It’s not like I’m going to be sleeping anyway. As big as this baby is getting, I can’t get into any position that’s comfortable. At least here I can help and be productive,” Maria said, ever pragmatic.

“Hmm,” I grunted, “how is Ma tonight?” I asked, fortifying myself for the answer.

“She was fairly peaceful tonight. She thought I was a neighbor girl in the village, so I heard a lot of village gossip—forty years after the fact—but it made for an enjoyable evening.”

I smiled. As practical as Maria was, she still put a positive light on just about everything. I envied her, especially in this situation.

“What about you? How was it at the bar tonight?” she asked, looking up from her knitting.

“Not bad. Had an event with a bunch of high rollers that kept us busy, but we got through it. The staff earned extra tips from it. Oh, and I ran into Emma. So overall, not a bad night,” I said casually, plopping down on the couch next to Maria and idly picking at the basket of spare yarn in between us.

Maria wasn’t falling for any casual turn of phrase, and she looked at me through narrowed eyes. “I’m sorry, did you say Emma?”

“Yeah,” I shrugged, regretting mentioning her at all. I couldn’t mention someone as important as Emma without my sisters following the scent like bloodhounds. Subtlety was not their strong suit.

“As in Emma Carter?” she clarified, a grin wreathing her mouth.

I glanced at her, then turned away to work on getting my boots off. “Yeah, what’s the big deal?” I asked, managing to do it with a straight face.

“What’s the big deal? Are you serious right now?” Maria asked incredulously, dropping her knitting and turning to face me on the couch. I was in for it now, though I didn’t mind. It’s not like I could talk to Charlie about Emma. He’d have nothing but dire warnings.

“You’re telling me that the woman you’ve been longing for since you were a teenager, the one who got away with your heart, the one you look for around every corner… just drops into your bar and that’s no big deal?”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”

She huffed. “No, I don't think it is. It’s romantic… and tragic, but mostly romantic. I mean, missing someone for that long? I can’t even imagine.”

“Yeah, well, that’s because Carlos was smart enough to know a good thing when he found it and stuck to you like glue,” I teased her.

Maria smiled, petting her bulging belly. It was a little gag worthy to see her so swoony over Carlos, like she was still a teenager. But it was also comforting to know that even though she and Carlos had been together for several years, they still acted like lovesick kids around one another. I was happy my little sister had that. If only we all were so lucky.

I tried to ignore the pang of envy in my chest. It never seemed to matter how many years passed or all the reasons Emma left. I still felt like we’d been robbed of something. The reminder made me stiffen my posture. Shaking my head, I told Maria, “That was a million years ago. It’s probably best to leave the past in the past, don’t you think?”

Maria didn’t answer right away, contemplating me with her head tilted to the side. Finally, she said, “Tell me this, Jaime. When you saw her again, what was your first reaction?”

Excitement. Lust. Longing… Relief.

I cleared my throat. “It’s been a long night, Maria,” I said as I shuffled off the couch and gathered up my boots. “I should go to bed.”

Maria raised a dubious eyebrow. “You can avoid telling me the truth all you want, Jaime, but don’t make the mistake of lying to yourself. That only leads to trouble.”

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