Page 50 of Dina's Favorite Mistake

She shared his suspicion and prayed they weren’t about to come face-to-face with Diego as she knocked on the door. “Mirta!” she called out before rapping her knuckles against the door again. “It’s Dina. I know my mother is in there. Open up.”

At the sound of the lock disengaging, Steve nudged her aside, moving her out of the way. She let him take her place, holding her breath as the door opened.

“I figured you’d follow us here,” Jose said, standing sheepishly in the entryway of Mirta’s small apartment. He looked haggard, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep and his clothing unusually rumpled. “I didn’t have a choice, Dina. You know how your mother can be.”

“I do,” she acknowledged before shoving by Steve and Jose both to find her mother. She followed the scent of coffee down the cramped hallway into the open living space where she found her mother andsuegradrinking coffee like old friends.

Dina was taken aback by the sight of her mother-in-law. Mirta looked so much older than the last time she’d seen her. She’d stopped coloring her hair, and it seemed much thinner, the white strands almost bare in some places and revealing patches of scalp. Her face wasn’t quite gaunt, but she’d clearly lost weight. Her skin seemed sallow and waxy.

She’s sick.

And, suddenly, it all made sense. She finally understood why Mirta had been so insistent on reuniting with Camila. She wanted to connect with her granddaughter before she was dead.

“Enedina,” Mirta greeted, using her full name in a way that felt absolutely grating.

“Mirta,” she replied frostily. Then, turning her attention to her mother, she asked, “Mama?”

As prim as a queen, Soila perched on the faded upholstered chair with her hands folded in her lap. Unlike Jose, she seemed fresh and bright in her plum blouse, tailored black trousers and embossed leather pumps. She’d coiled her hair into a sleek chignon, tucking in a vintage tortoiseshell comb as an accent. Looking just behind Dina, she smiled. “Good morning, Steve.”

“Good morning, ma’am.” He glanced at Mirta and nodded respectfully. “Ma’am.”

“My son’s replacement?” Mirta sniffed.

Dina bit her tongue. “Mama? Why are you here?”

Soila picked a bit of invisible lint from her trouser leg. “I decided it was time to handle this my way.”

“And what ismy way?” Dina pointedly looked around the apartment. “Paying Mirta a few million dollars in cash?”

Soila rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. As if I could carry millions of dollars in two handbags!”

“Well, you carried a whole bunch of it out of the bank this morning!”

“Did that little boy tattle on me?” Soila narrowed her eyes. “It’s my money! I’ll do whatever I like with it!”

“Including giving it to her?” Dina gestured to her former mother-in-law.

“Including giving it to her,” Soila agreed.

“Why?”

“Because we both want the same thing.”

“And that is what? Exactly?” Dina wondered, glancing between the two vexing women.

“To keep our granddaughter safe,” Mirta said.

“Really? That’s what you want?” Dina asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “After you got her counselor to manipulate her? To act as a go-between? To arrange little meet-ups?”

“I didn’t do that!” Mirta denied. “Chavela came to me! She told me that Camila wanted to know me better.” She started to tear up, and Dina refused to be moved by the show of emotion. “That’s all I’ve wanted for years! To be closer to my granddaughter! But you wouldn’t let me! Almost ten years, Enedina! You kept her from me for ten years!”

“Because you broke the rules!” Dina raised her voice. “I let have visitation and overnights, but I told you that if you ever let Diego speak to her it would be the last time you saw her. What did you do? You took her to that prison and let him touch her! Hold her! Take photos with her!”

“It was his birthday! He is her father!”

“No, he’s her sperm donor!” Dina argued. “He lost the right to call himself her father when he almost killed her!”

The entire apartment went silent. She could practically hear the heartbeats of everyone surrounding her, all of them holding their breath and waiting to see what she would shout next.

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