I was a young boy the first time my father told me how beautiful and captivating my mother was. He met her in a bar in Mexico City, where she worked as a waitress. He said the men watched her carry trays of drinks as she dipped, swirled, and sashayed through the bar. Their eyes were hungry as she smiled and laughed, evaded slaps to her ass, and admonished those who crossed the line.
Hours later, my father knew it was time to drag himself away. He also knew he was in love for the first and last time. She brought his check, he paid, and she handed him a slip of paper. In very precise English it read: I am off in one hour and will meet you at the back door.
He crunched the note in his fist and walked out. He thought himself a stupid man who would most likely be robbed and left for dead because such an amazing woman could not be interested in him. He had an hour to consider how stupid he was. He met her anyway.
They were both students—she nursing and him on summer break before he entered med school. For two weeks they saw each other, made love, and talked late into the night after she got off work. My father had no trouble talking to me about having sex with my mother, though he never went into detail; he just said I would meet a special woman one day and understand that the gift of her body is holy. Two weeks after they met, she took him to meet her family. They treated him respectfully, but they didn’t like him. The following day, my mother and father applied for her visa. They didn’t care what her family thought. My father understood that no man would ever be good enough for Maria Elana Santos Morales.
He told me the waiting for the visa was the worst months of his life. He started med school back in the states and all he could think about was my mother’s smile, her laugh, her delicate skin and her voracious appetite for life. He said, “Love can take time to develop or it can hit you like a steamroller.”
I thought about his words the day I watched Madison sleep. She resembled my closest friend’s sister, but she was nothing like Theresa. I removed her shoes and pants before tucking her beneath the sheet. I fought it, but couldn’t help bending over and running my nose along the skin at her throat. I breathed in the most delicious scent in the universe. She was minty vanilla mixed with sweet musky sweat.
I watched her for more than an hour worried that I should notify Carlo to examine her. Every so often, she moved and muttered something indistinguishable. I had closed off most of my thoughts about my mother and father for years. For some reason, I sat there and for the first time in years, remembered the good times. Most of my thoughts included my baby brother. I have no idea why I was so drawn to the woman lying in the bed, but I planned to find out.
I know the exact moment the steamroller ran over me. Madison asked me to save a goat. I found that goat a home and then purchased it back for a ridiculous amount of money because I knew it would make her smile. We’ve recently added a new kitten named Phily to our family. No, I don’t care that Madison named her kitten after one of my men. Philip was a good man.
Madison also has Two-dogs. Not literally two dogs, but one badass rescued pit bull named Two-dogs. He’s three years old and follows Madison everywhere. He was our compromise over the bodyguard situation. Madison hired a woman and I had a dog trained for added protection. We’re both happy.
At this moment, I’m in bed with my sleeping bride, and I understand why my father sacrificed his life and died with my mother. Estephon taking Madison was hell. We were within a mile of his location when the video came through. If she had died, I planned to die with her. That’s what love is. All these years I’ve resented my father for leaving me.