Page 5 of Possessing Her

I drive around for a few minutes, meandering away from Asher’s and heading into a direction I haven’t been it too long to remember. It’s a park I know all too well, where I went whenever I needed to get away from my parents and sister. This place is peaceful; it’s also where parents take their children to play. It reminded me so many times that I’m breaking a cycle, except I’m not sure I did. I put my sister above my husband, and while I can’t change the past, maybe I could have gone about everything in a different manner. I pull into a parking spot, not quite ready to get out and head for the swing set, which is where I’d like to be right about now. As a child, I’d run for the metal chain, hop on the scorching-hot molded plastic seat, not caring that I’d be burning the back of my thighs, and swing for as long as possible.

Reality would always come crashing back, but when I’m on a swing, no matter where it is, I let go and breathe. I don’t worry, I don’t think about what’s next, and I definitely don’t allow anyone to rain on my parade. Especially when Sebastian is swinging beside me. I’m about to put my car inParkand head to the swings when my phone alerts me I’ve got a text message.

I hurry up to type in the code. The facial recognition is taking entirely too long, and my patience is shot to shit. Isla and Santiago went to pick up Sebastian while I went to Asher’s to talk to Johnny. Luckily, we’ve done a couple of video calls in the past couple of weeks when it seemed like life was settling in. We’d gotten accustomed to a routine, no longer looking over my shoulder wondering what would happen next. Of course, that’s when I got a knock on my door by a government official telling me what I needed to do next in order to keep Sebastian. That’swhen two people from the Department of Children Services let it be known I’m now in a foster-to-adopt situation, the only problem being I can’t legally adopt Sebastian without my husband’s consent.

Two steps forward and three steps back.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I see that it’s Isla.

Isla: Baby bird secured. He’s eaten two Cuban sandwiches and is looking for more food. I’m having him take a break from food, so he doesn’t eat so much he gets sick. Now he’s outside with Santiago working on a bicycle that was buried in the shed.

Johnny’s mom is my savior taking care of Seb. Once things were established, mainly Isla telling me how things were going to go, with Santiago backing her up, there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d ever tell them no. After I called the babysitter, who requested we FaceTime to make sure that it was me on the phone and to be introduced to Johnny’s parents, they went their way, and I went mine. I made a mental note to keep Jenny’s phone number in case I need her in the future. She went above and beyond that I’m sure others wouldn’t have.

The attached picture is of Sebastian sitting on the bike, decked out in a helmet that looks a size too big in the shell, except the strap is secure beneath his chin, and he even has knee and elbow bads. It brings tears to my eyes to see him getting the life he deserves, experiencing new things and learning what it’s like to be loved outside of me. It also helps that he’s got the biggest smile going on. Whenever I ask for a picture, he sayscheese pleasewhile squinting and showing off his teeth.

Me: I’m sure he’s going through a growth spurt, except I remember your food and how amazing it is. Thank you for taking care of him.

Isla: There’s plenty of food here and lots of kids for him to play with, which means clothes won’t need to be bought for a long time.

Isla: I’ve already activated the aunties. They’re also bringing toys. We can argue about that when you get back here.

Isla: Which I’m assuming didn’t go well since you’re answering me right away. That boy of mine.

She rapid-fire texts me, multiple times at once. I don’t want to miss one of Sebastian’s firsts, and while having me-time would be nice, there’s not a chance in hell I won’t be there when Seb gets the hang of riding a bike, even with training wheels.

Me: He didn’t sign the papers. I probably should have waited. There seemed to be some drama going on with Trent and Kennedy. I’m on my way back now. Do you need anything?

Isla: We’ll talk more when you get home. All we need is you, mija.

Me: See you soon.

I toss my phone back in the little cubby beneath the radio, put my car inReverse, and back out of my spot. The whole day, I’ve felt on the verge of having a massive crying jag, and for themost part, I did when I saw Isla. This one feels more. It feels like mourning the loss of a loved one, except they’re still alive, yet you can’t have them, and after the year I’ve had, I know the feeling all too personally.

The small town of Whispering Oaks is spread out between the subdivisions, a few store fronts, and then there are areas where you can basically live off the land and not have a neighbor in sight. Where I’m at now is near a few of the older neighborhoods, ones without homeowners associations. The houses have some age, but the yards are all well-manicured. Instead of staying in my head, going over the timeline and how little time I have left with potentially losing Sebastian, I hit the radio button, choosing to listen to a country song instead of a podcast. A few clicks on the steering wheel, and I find what I’m looking for. A nineties country song comes on. I turn the volume up to an ear-splitting decibel, and while it’s a sad song, it’s also cathartic to sing it at the top of my lungs. Blackhawk’sI’m Not Strong Enough to Say No. By the time I pull into Isla and Santiago’s driveway, I’ve listened and sung along to the song twice and feel a tiny bit better.

I’m met with Santiago’s watchful eyes when I step out of the car. He’s trying to get my pulse, and damn if it doesn’t sucker-punch me again how much Johnny looks like his dad.

“¿Estás bien?” He’s asking me if I’m okay.

“Sí,” I respond, saying yes, plastering on what I’m sure is a fake smile. It’ll have to do. I have time for tears later. Right now, I want to make sure Seb has the best day ever.

“Look, look, look!” Sebastian grabs our attention. Gone are the bike, helmet, and pads. In their place are Tonka trucks, and he’s digging up an area in the yard under the tree. Poor Sebastian has the Keen skin tone, which means we’re lobster red if the sun greets our bodies.

“I see. Are you having a good time?” I walk toward him, plop down on the grass, and pick at the long strands to keep myself busy. The need to pick him up and hold him to my chest is on the verge, but he’s nearing the age where the random hugs and kisses are more on the eww scale.

“Ab-ab-abuela.” Sebastian takes a few tries to get out the termgrandma. I smile, silently cheering him on for learning a new word. I’m about to clap my hands like I did when he took his first steps. “We ate, I ride bike, and you’re home.” He may be teetering on the age of four and can talk in complete sentences, but they’re not always conjugated with the correct verbs.

“I heard you ate a lot. Is your belly full?” I ask, keeping him engaged in a conversation. Sebastian is an only child; he also stays to himself and can play on his own when the time warrants. I try to keep him engaged at home, sitting on the floor playing with blocks, putting together puzzles, and making ridiculous car noises as we vroom them around our small apartment. All the other times, I’ll get him to help me in the kitchen with either making a snack or our meals. I’m not much of a cook, but I can do in a pinch, which is probably why Seb ate as much as he did of Isla’s cooking.

“Yes, yummy in my tummy.” He does a little wiggle, arms lifting up, and is literally happy dancing. I can’t say that I blame him. Food is amazing when I can stomach it enough to eat. Sadly, this thing called life, work, and bills makes it impossible when you’re up half the night pacing the floors with worry.

“I’m so happy, baby boy,” I tell him.

“I no baby. I big boy.” This has been happening more and more lately. Damn daycare; it’s a necessity, but it’s also backfiring on me in terms of Sebastian learning more about himself.

“It happens so fast, mija. He’s a good boy. You’re doing wonderfully.” Isla comes to sit on the ground beside us. Shefinds my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze and locking our fingers together.

“Thank you. He’s the best thing in the entire world,” I reply.

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