Page 68 of Fighting for Julia
The General leaned back in his chair and listened to his grandson strum a few notes. It sounded familiar. A warm feeling spread through Julia.
“I know that song, Manny. Is it ‘A la Nanita Nana’?”
His face beamed. “Sí! Sí! You can sing it?”
“No. But my fiancé knows it very well. He sang it to me. Miguel can play the guitar, too.”
“Oh, I must meet him! Can I, Granddaddy?”
“Perhaps tomorrow.”
At that moment, Manny’s mother, a gorgeous, sultry woman, entered the private room with a platter of various fruits, cheeses, and a carafe of dark red sangria. As soon as she saw Julia, she burst into tears.
“God bless the Holy Virgin! You look like my brother Julio!” She leaned over Julia and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. “Welcome, niece! We feared you were lost to us forever! I’m your aunt, Ileana.”
“Tía,” Julia greeted her in Spanish.
That endearment pleased her, and she kissed Julia on the cheek. Turning to her father, Ileana began, “Papa, you won’t?—”
“Of course not,” he cut her off. “Manny, you must go to bed now.”
“Sí, Granddaddy.” Manny hugged them and scampered off with his mother.
General Escobar poured two glasses of sangria and pushed one toward Julia. She took several gulps of the sweet drink. It was hard to reconcile the head of a ruthless drug cartel with a loving father and grandfather. Her stomach growled, so she reached for some grapes, juicy pineapple chunks, and cubes of cheese.
“Well, Julia, where do we begin?”
“At the beginning. Why did you send Felipe to kill my father?”
“I didn’t. Felipe was supposed to bring you home to us. I hoped Julio would at least agree to talk to me if I had his child.”
“I wasn’t with my parents. They’d left me at a fire station a couple of days after I was born.”
General Escobar emitted a deep sigh. “Sí. Felipe was…what is the expression? Trigger happy.”
“And so you lost a son and a nephew and sent Lola straight into the arms of Axel Anderson, a psychopath with a God complex. Four years ago he and Lola planned to destroy Americafrom the inside out. Miguel and his fellow officers stopped them. Lola and Axel were killed in the raid on their underground compound.”
“Sí, I read about it online.”
“Your pride and your ego caused this, Gramps. Lola and Axel experimented on their own children with brainwashing techniques that fractured their minds so badly they’ll never be whole. When their oldest son targeted the cops who killed his parents, they killed him, too.”
“Gramps?” he scoffed. “You dare to disrespect me?”
It was a tactic to avoid acknowledging his role in this tragedy that had yet to end. “I didn’t mean to disrespect you. I call my other grandparents ‘Gramps’ and ‘Grammy’, and they love it.”
“You do?” A ghost of a smile crossed his face.
“Sí.”
“You know Spanish.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Sí.” In Spanish she continued, “I’ve been well-educated. All my brothers and sisters are bilingual. My sisters are also studying Chinese and Arabic to prepare for international careers. We’re all adopted.”
“You are? And you and your brothers and sisters were treated well? Equally?”
Julia switched back to English. “Sí, Gramps. The Washburns are wonderful parents. I suppose I should thank you, but I wish you had been as generous with my bio dad as you’ve been with Alejandro.”
He looked surprised. “You’ve met?”
