Page 42 of Everything We Thought Was True
Frank loved hearing his name in Ricky’s accent, with the rolledrmaking it sound so much more sensual. He turned back around, facing Ricky.
“Took you long enough,” Ricky said.
Frank laughed and broke into a big smile.
On that first date, they were driving into the city, and another driver cut Frank off on the highway. Ricky gestured to the car, speaking in rapid-fire Spanish.
Frank smiled. “Whoa, listen to you. My God, you sound like Ricky Ricardo,” referring to the character on the television showI Love Lucy.
To which Ricky replied, “Um, no, he’s Cuban!”
“So what? Same thing.”
“Oh no, it isn’t,” Ricky said, snapping his fingers, mock glaring at Frank.
Frank leaned his head back and laughed. Ricky had so much fire in him. Frank adored that.
He fell hard for Ricky, who wound up smashing every one of Frank’s self-imposed rules. Frank had never felt such an attraction to anyone in his life. He walked around work during the day, charged up, all his senses heightened. He wanted to know Ricky completely.
The first time he touched Ricky, he actually gasped. It was weeks later, at the end of their third date. They went back to Ricky’s place,a small apartment in the same neighborhood as the bakery. Pressed body to body, Frank lost all reason. Good God, he’d never felt such desire. He’d loved being with Henry, who would always hold a special place as the first man Frank had ever been with. But this? Never this. With Ricky, he felt like he was one half of a whole. Like he’d found the missing piece of the puzzle.
Afterward, naked and breathless, side by side in the bed, Frank wanted to feel guilt, regret, or even surprise at what had just happened. But all he felt was an overwhelming sense of relief. And he knew, as of that moment, there was no going back. Frank had stepped out of one existence and into another. He was sure Ricky would be his undoing.
Chapter Twenty-Three
TERESA - NEW ROCHELLE, NY
1983
Teresa sat by her mother’s hospital bed, listening to the hum of the machines hooked up to Rosa to handle her breathing. Rosa was now what people called a vegetable. Teresa cringed at the word. It didn’t describe her beautiful mother.
Teresa had become so consumed with raising her children and navigating a difficult marriage that she hadn’t seen her mother as much as she would have liked in recent years. There were frequent phone calls, and she tried to take the kids to see theirnonnafrom time to time, but she wished she’d tried harder. Regret tugged at her. But as Teresa looked at her dear mother, the regret faded away. Rosa knew how much Teresa loved her. She was a sweet, forgiving woman, often to a fault, putting up with her husband’s drinking and bullying and her son Marco’s drug addiction and dependency. Teresa was grateful her older brother, Sal, had never caused Rosa any heartache—well, other than moving away, of course. She’d been in touch with him constantly for the last two weeks, giving him updates on Rosa’s condition. Teresa dreaded calling him once Rosa passed, knowing it would make this nightmare even more real. And Marco—she didn’t even want to think about what a mess he would be.
She took Rosa’s hand and spoke to her, unsure if Rosa could hear her. “Okay, Ma. If you need to go, Iunderstand. I don’t want you to. I’ll miss you so much. I don’t want to be here without you. But if you can’t find your way back, if it’s too hard, then go toward the light.” Teresa broke down, sobbing, and clung to her mother’s frail, limp hand. She lingered there for a while, kissing her mother’s hand over and over and rubbing it against her cheek.
The last two weeks had felt like an eternity. They’d been excruciating. It had all happened so fast. Rosa had collapsed at home, and when she arrived at New Rochelle Hospital, tests revealed that an aneurysm had burst in her brain, causing her to go into a coma. Teresa prayed to Mother Mary, Jesus, God, the Holy Spirit, and any other celestial being who would listen.Please, I’m not ready. I can’t lose my mother.But she knew she had to let go, and it tore her apart inside.
Rosa passed away minutes later, as if she’d been waiting for her daughter to give her permission. Teresa breathed deeply, putting her head between her legs to ward off the feeling that she might faint. Her mother was gone at only sixty-six years old. And Teresa was thirty-two—too young to be left with no parents in the world. Her father, Sergio, had died years before, and now Teresa was officially an orphan.
“I know you’ll be fine without me,” she imagined her mother saying. Teresa patted her mother’s motionless hand gently and lovingly and tried to convince herself this was true.
Teresa needed to get some air. She went out to the nurse’s station to let them know her mother had passed. The head nurse immediately jumped into motion. She came around the counter and placed her hand gently on Teresa’s shoulder. “I am so sorry for your loss.”
Teresa knew the nurse must say those words constantly, but they sounded genuine. She felt the tears flowing down her cheeks and was grateful for this kind woman who’d taken such good care of her mother the last two weeks.
“Thank you so much,” she whispered. “I need a little break. If my husband comes, please let him know what happened and that Istepped outside for a little while.” She knew Frank was on his way to the hospital after work.
“Sure thing, dear. We’ll take care of things for your mother. Take your time, and come back up when you’re ready.”
Teresa rode the elevator down to the ground level, feeling claustrophobic in the small space, like she was suffocating. She felt an overwhelming need to escape to the outdoors and be in nature. As she walked out into the blinding sunlight, she couldn't help but find it strange that her mother had passed away but the sun continued to shine. She walked around the perimeter of the parking lot, stretching her legs, cramped from sitting in a hospital chair for so many hours.
Then she caught sight of Frank’s car, parked in a remote spot along the edge of the lot.Oh, thank goodness, he’s here.She breathed a sigh of relief that she wouldn’t be alone anymore.
She walked closer to the car, approaching Frank’s driver’s-side window. And then she stopped short, like she’d hit a brick wall. For there was Frank, leaning over the passenger seat, smiling, his arm on the shoulder of a man she’d never seen before—a man who was smiling back at Frank, one hand cupping the back of Frank’s neck. In a flash, the features of the man impressed themselves upon Teresa’s consciousness, like acid eating away at a photograph—the brown eyes, the thick dark lashes, the curl of hair that swooped down onto his forehead. And she knew immediately that he was Frank’s lover.
A thousand questions competed for Teresa’s attention:Who is he? Where did they meet? When did Frank start seeing him? How long has it been going on? Why is he doing this again? Is it serious?The questions bounced from one side of her brain to another like a pinball machine. She felt nauseated. At that moment, Frank looked up through the window, and an expression of horror and guilt crossed his face. She turned and ran.
Behind her, Frank screamed, “Teresa!”
