Page 48 of The Prez

After we come back from the doctor’s appointment, Big Raf puts a sleeping Little Raf in his crib. When he comes back, I grin over at him. “If I’m not careful,” I say, reaching for his hand, “I’ll be out of a job.”

He snorts. “Yeah, right. I don’t do half as good as you do with him. I’m just trying to be enough, you know?”

I nod sadly. Not for the first time, I have a feeling Raf doesn’t think he’s worthy of having Little Raf. Like he has to pass some muster to earn the right to have that sweet baby love him. I’m not sure what I have to do or say to help him. All I can do is encourage him to continue to do what he’s doing and be there when he wants to do more.

“You’re doing great. He’s really loves you.”

Raf sucks in a shocked breath and looks at me with wide eyes. “You think so?”

I lay my head on his chest and nod. “I do. Babies are good judges of character. He’s relaxed with you.”

He lets out a long breath and nuzzles against me. “You’re perfect, precioso. You know that?”

A brief chuckle escapes my lips. “Thank you, baby.”

We rest on the couch for another hour or so, not talking much, just enjoying each other’s company. When the baby wakes from his nap, we decide to take him for a walk around the neighborhood.

It’s nice and quiet here, older people out walking as well, watering their gardens, or sitting on their porches. Some greet us as we pass by, but most don’t. Probably afraid of Big Raf and his perma-scowl.

“Why did you move here?” I look around as I push the stroller, taking in the picturesque lawns and cute little gardens. I wouldn’t peg Raf as the type to own a home here. “There are a lot of old people,” I whisper.

He looks down at me with a raised eyebrow. “You called me old too, so I fit right in.” I bark a laugh, making the baby break into laughter as well. I coo at him before I focus back on his uncle. “It reminds me of where I lived in Florida, besides the large Cuban community, that is. I stayed with my grandfather, remember?” I nod. “He had a nice house with a garden he tended and had quiet neighbors. It’s not the same, but it’s as close to home as I could get.”

“Why did you move to Florida with your grandfather? Where are your mom and dad?” I look up at Raf’s tight expression and immediately regret my question. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that. I’m?—”

“It’s fine, baby.” He leans down and kisses my forehead. Imelt into his side as much as I can while pushing the stroller. “Mama and Papa are … dead.”

I gasp and stop the stroller. “I’m sorry, Rafael. I didn’t know.”

He faces me with a sad half smile on his face. “It’s okay. How would you know?” He kisses my lips gently, then nudges me forward so we can continue our walk. “What about your parents? Are they still here?”

“My mom is. My dad moved away after they divorced.”

“Are you close with your mom and dad?”

I shake my head as we turn on the next block. I check the hood of the stroller, making sure the sun isn’t in Little Raf’s eyes. Once I’m sure he’s okay, I answer Raf’s question. “Not really. I only talk to my dad when he decides to answer the phone. He has a new wife and family. My mom had this big thing about wanting me to lose weight. She always had some diet she wanted me to try and?—”

I’m cut off by Raf’s percolating growl. “What?”

I chuckle, even as my heart flutters at his anger. “Calm down, Tiger. My sister beat you to the punch. After a while, Hazel got tired of the crash diets and told my mother she’d report her for abuse. For a while, I refused to eat certain foods because my mom said they made me fat. Hazel doesn’t take shit. She’s very protective of me. Always has been. After that, my mom didn’t pester me, but our relationship was damaged by that point. All I could think was that she saw me as her fat son, not just her son. So, I only really speak to her when the occasion calls for it.”

“I’m sorry, precioso. Before she … died, me and Mama were close. She was close with Elena too. I can’t imagine what you went through.” His face takes on that drawn appearance again and it’s on the tip of my tongue to ask why, but he doesn’t seem to want to talk about his mother. Maybe his sister is a safe topic.

“Were you close to Elena?”

Raf pulls in a long breath, letting it flow out of him slowly. “We were before she moved away. After my parents died, her dad took her to the states. She had a different father than me and my sister Maria.” I nod. “I didn’t see or hear from her for a few years. When I turned nineteen and was getting on my feet, I thought I’d look her up, see if she wanted to visit or something. I don’t know.”

We make a loop back to the house, our strides leisurely. “What happened?” I prompt.

“I thought I’d surprise her, you know? After so many years, I figured she still liked surprises.” His voice takes on a hollow quality, like he’s trying to separate himself from the feelings of what he went through. My heart goes out to him. “I flew to California where they lived and went to the address the private investigator gave me when I had him search her out. When she opened the door, she burst into tears. I thought it was because she was happy to see me, but when I tried to hug her, she started screaming at me. Saying she didn’t want to see me anymore because I killed her mother. That I failed to save her and I would let her down too. She told me to never contact her again.”

My eyes well with tears. How that must have hurt him, his own little sister not wanting him around.

“I’m so sorry. That had to be awful,” I say. “And you didn’t hear from her after that? Ever?”

“Nope,” he says, dragging out the word. “I didn’t even know she lived on the East Coast until the Chief of Police gave me the news that she was in the hospital.”

I wrap one arm around Raf’s waist while we walk, hoping to … I don’t know, give him some of my strength or something. He’s plenty strong on his own, but telling his story made him seem so fragile.

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