Page 30 of Wasted On Us

“No,” I manage to spit out, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. “No, that can’t be true.”

But even as I say it, a part of me knows he’s not lying to me. The seriousness in his tone, in his expression. He wouldn’t make up something like this. The weight of his words settles into my bones, shaking me to my core. I feel as if I’ve been thrown into a winter lake, the shock of the cold water stealing the breath from my lungs. This can’t be real. It just can’t be.

Yet the grim set of my father’s mouth tells a different tale. And the world I thought I knew tilts off its axis, leaving me floundering in the crushing truth of his revelation.

“I mean… he didn’t give her ALS. He gave her something worse. He gave her hope. Your mother, my beautiful wife, heart of an angel, I bought her supplements from there. Danny, snake oil salesman that he is… well, the supplements didn’t work. They may have even made the ALS claim her more quickly.”

“I see.” A wave of relief washes over me. Even though he thinks what he’s saying is true, he may be letting his grief cloud his judgment. Eden is a good person. I can’t imagine her father being so willfully evil as my father suggests. I need someone else to tell me their version of events. Over my father’s shoulder, I see Abuelita standing in the kitchen window, pretending to be focused on the dishes when in reality she’s listening to every word we’re saying.

And she’s frowning.

“Is something happening over there?” he shoots out bitterly. “Should we call the police? That family is such a nuisance. According to Mrs. Miller, who’s head of the HOA, their underachieving children just keep moving out and in, out and in, out and in.”

“No…” This conversation is making me realize I can never bring them up, ever again, without my father jumping to outlandish conclusions. “Just… one of the daughters seemed to be moving in.”

His face contorts in disgust. “Yeah, that sounds about right. People like that… breeding like cockroaches. You’d think a pharmacist would be able to understand how to prevent that from happening.”

“I hardly think three daughters supports a cockroach analogy.”

“You don’t know. May you never know. Stay away from those awful people.”

“They’re our almost neighbors,” I remind him. My father has always stressed how important community is and how vital it is to be kind to those closest to us. This behavior from him is so out of left field, it’s jarring.

“Yes. We were here first,” he grumbles, folding his glasses and slipping them into the pocket of his shirt. “I think he moved here just to torture me. Like I need the daily reminder of how he ruined my life. If I never saw him again, it would be too soon.”

“Got it.” My head is swimming. I don’t want to listen to any more of this, not without a second opinion from Abuelita. I stand, turning to head into the house, when he stops me with a hand on my arm.

“Wait. The daughters. Daniel has three of them about your age.” He narrows his eyes at me, glaring into what feels like my very soul. “You’re not going to go sniffing around any of them? Mateo, you must resist. You would never do that to me, right? I’ve put up with a lot from you.”

His grip on my arm is tight enough that it’s uncomfortable.

“Like what?” Sure, I’ve had my indiscretions here and there, but compared to most people, I think I’ve been a good son.

“Like Lucy,” he growls, all but spitting her name at the ground. “I told you never to get involved with a woman from work and you didn’t listen. Now we have to deal with her negativity and bitterness on the daily. You are not dating our mortal enemy’s daughters! Stay away from them. All of them. I don’t think I could survive it if you were to betray me in such a way.”

He’s right that Lucy was a mistake. One that I will be trying to redeem myself from for a long time. But he has to be overreacting about Eden. Finally able to break away from him, I stride into the kitchen, desperate to hear what Abuelita has to say.

“Don’t mind your father,” she yawns over her molcajete, squeezing a lime into the guacamole she is preparing. “They were college rivals, he and Daniel. And they’ve just kept on finding reasons to dislike each other ever since. It’s like one of my stories. What do they call them here? Rom-coms?”

Abuelita has always loved her telenovelas. I wouldn’t speak Spanish half as well as I do now if I hadn’t spent my childhood crowded around the TV with her watching Telemundo. I’m starting to feel like I’m stuck in one of these stories myself.

“So, you don’t believe…” I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence. I don’t feel right calling a man I’ve never met a murderer.

She shakes her head sadly, tapping her tejolote against the rim. “Your mother… she was already far along in her illness when she was diagnosed. She hid the symptoms for so long and didn’t get help.Madre de Dios, she needed a miracle. The miracle was that she lasted almost a year. Your father doesn’t see that. I do. Those supplements and the diet plan that Daniel told us about? It helped more than you know. It bought us more time and it made her less sick from her treatments. It let her be more of herself, right up till the very end. Your father was blinded by grief, and he was grasping at straws and looking for people to blame. With their history, Daniel made an easy target.”

“Got it.” I sigh, wrapping her in a loose hug. “Thank you, Abuelita.”

Looking through the window, past the Lamberts’ yard, I can see the wall of trees that Daniel must’ve had installed when he moved in. Somewhere past them, I wonder what’s being discussed over at the Lorensons’, and how Eden’s handling it. God only knows what faults Daniel has placed on my father if my father is carrying around the misconception that he murdered the woman he loved.

And now I know with certainty why Eden’s been acting strangely. Not that I blame her, although I wish she would have trusted me enough to tell me.

Even though it’s soon, she’s the first woman I’ve ever felt this way about in my entire life. She’s over there, sitting within arm’s reach, and I can’t touch her at all.

The universe must have a sick sense of humor indeed.

Chapter Thirteen

Eden

---