Page 27 of Never Finished

“Mama, are you ok?” I asked her when I saw her standing behind the stove, tears streaming down her face.

“I’ve lifted that pan a million times, why wouldn’t I be able to do that now?” she asked amid sobs and that‘s when I saw Maria on the floor, scooping up bits of egg and chorizo from the floor into a dustpan.

“It’s okay Mama,” Maria said. “It’s a heavy pan. Anyone could have dropped it.”

I squatted down on the floor, taking the dustpan from Maria. “Hey, you shouldn’t be down on the floor in your condition. I’ll take care of this.”

I helped Maria get back on her feet and watched with worry as she rubbed her distended belly after the effort.

That’s when I caught the distraught look on my mother’s face. She looked like a girl standing there looking at two of her grown children, her youngest child heavy with her grandchild.

“I-I, I’m tired,” she said brokenly, and I had to swallow hard past the lump of emotion in my throat.

Maria grabbed my mother’s hand. “Okay Mama, it’s okay. How about we get you settled in for a nap? It’s been an exciting morning.”

“I don’t need naps—I’m not a child,” she insisted as I finished cleaning up and dumped the dustpan’s contents into the nearby garbage can.

I cleared my throat, “Actually, I think Maria could really use a nap before that baby gets here… Lord knows you won’t be getting any once that little one is here,” I said when Maria scoffed. I turned back to my mom. “Do you think maybe you could help her get settled in?”

My mother’s eyes brightened. “He’s right Maria, you need to rest. C’mon,” she said, grabbing her daughter’s hand. “Let’s get you all set up. I can even sing that song to you liked when you were little—you’ll need to remember it for the baby.” And with that, Mama was marching Maria away in hand, just like when Maria was little.

Maria looked over her shoulder at me hesitantly, but I just shrugged my shoulders, feigning innocence.

“Oh, and Jaime, when you see your father, tell him to pick up some more eggs on the way home from work,” Mama called out.

I grimaced, but nodded obediently. “I will do that Mama.”

Once I knew they were out of earshot, I pulled my phone from my back pocket and dialed a familiar number. It immediately went to voicemail. Signing in frustration, I waited for the beep and said, “Sofia, this is your brother… not sure you would remember since you’ve been dodging me. Call me back. Please… or I’ll be forced to come over there and embarrass you in front of your new girlfriend,” I threatened. “Looooove you,” I sang out to her before hanging up the phone.

Sofia and my mother had a complicated relationship. Since Mama has been sick, Sofia has offered her support in the best way she thought possible: helping with the bills, paying the day nurse and sending grocery orders. But she has largely stayed away and though part of me understood why, it was quickly becoming apparent the nurse and Maria were going to need more help, especially with Maria getting so far along in her pregnancy.

Sofia was going to have to face our mother whether she liked it or not and unfortunately, I have to be the bad guy and convince her of that.

I let out a long breath and ventured back down the hall toward my mother’s room. Peeking through the crack in the door, I smiled at what I saw. There was mother and daughter, sleeping peacefully in each other’s arms, just like when Maria was little.

Quietly, I padded back down the hall and slipped out of the house, letting the beautiful morning sun hit me in the face as I headed to my truck. Considering how late the bar stayed open, it was rare I was up and out this early, but after my night with Emma, I was running on adrenaline, so I figured I might as well get more eggs for my mom.

As I buckled my seatbelt, my phone buzzed in my pocket and figuring it was Sofia, I pulled it out, bracing myself for her sharp reply. But it wasn’t Sofia. Instead, it was a California number.

Hey, it’s Emma. Not to sound to stalker-y but I pulled your number from the employee directory. I wanted to make sure you had my number… for later. ??

I giggled like a schoolboy. I was thirty years old, and I was giggling in delight over an emoji from a girl I liked… maybe more than liked.

“Alright, Acosta, don’t get ahead of yourself,” I warned myself out loud as I cranked on the engine. I couldn’t think of words like love, not yet, anyway.

***

Going into work that evening, I couldn’t fight back the grin that stretched across my face when my eyes fell on the barstool Emma had been perched on the night before.

I actually whistled as I prepared the bar for the evening. “Somebody seems extra chipper tonight,” Charlie said with a sly smile as he rounded the tables.

I shrugged nonchalantly. Let Charlie work for it a bit. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

That’s when Joey chimed in, “I’d be whistling too if I had a goddess like that looking at me with bedroom eyes,” Joey said, drawing out the last two words dramatically.

“Bedroom eyes, huh?” Charlie asked with curiosity. “You holding out on me, bud?”

I shook my head, but Joey wasn’t done. “Shit, you picked a hell of a night to be off, Charlie. They talked forever, and we were taking bets on how long before they just mauled each other.” I scowled at Joey sharply in warning. He at least had the decency to look sheepish as he shrugged and said, “Sorry, boss, but it’s true. There was something hot and heavy brewing.”

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