Chapter Seven
I walk with a slight limp back to the door frame of
the room. At first, walking around the hospital left me in a great deal of pain, but now it was almost like I wasn’t
even shot at all. A minor sharp pain would shoot through me every so often, but not regularly.
"Thank you, I think I can manage from here." I smile at the polite, but not overly friendly nurse.
"I think I should help." She replies.
"Trust me, I’ll be able to make it the few feet to my bed without any problems. Thanks." I nod my head
slightly for emphasis, and watch as the nurse walks off, mumbling along the way.
Turning around, I enter my room and nearly have a heart attack. "Jesus! Are you trying to kill me? Wait a
minute, don’t answer that." I retort, staring my brother Luis down. He wore a black form fitting sweater and
jeans, making him appear buff.
"It’s nice to see you too." He politely replies. I bit my tongue, trying hard not to hiss at him to get
out. I look heavenward, remembering Hank and my conversation last night. Slowly I limp over to my bed and get in,
deciding this was Luis’ chance.
"What do you want?" I ask him sighing once I was positioned.
"God, you make it sound as though I’m an asshole." I stare down at him. "Strike that last remark.
Seriously, you’re my sister, and you were just shot, I care about you."
"Really? That’s funny, I could’ve sworn you didn’t." I snap.
"Not this again. Look Paloma-"
"Maria. My legal name is Maria Fitzgerald now. Paloma Lopez died the moment she was sent outta town."
I correct.
"Whatever. Listen, we were both young then. I admit it, I made a mistake, but you did too."
"I was young and confused! And that’s not the part that angers me Luis, it’s that after I arrived in Spain,
how many times did you call? Once? How many times did you write?" I say, anger teetering in my voice.
"It’s expensive to call Spain. You know that." Luis replies calmly.
"Well, that’s kinda odd, I mean, mother only called Aunt Maria every month, but somehow, there was never enough
time to speak to me." I turn away from him, trying to hide the tears in my eyes.
"I’m sorry Paloma, it was tough times back then. Why are you here if you didn’t want to patch things up though?"
"My plane got downed by that storm. We had to land here. Trust me, if I’d have known I’d be in Harmony, I
would’ve made the girls leave early."
"Oh you mean those two." Luis said in realization.
"They’re my best friends in the world. One of the few people I have. We work together, we play together, we
live together. They are my family." I say, staring at the wall.
"Where were you flying to?" Luis asks.
"Chicago. Our company opens there tonight, but I won’t be there for opening night." I reply without emotions.
"Company? You own a company?" Luis asks with astonishment in his voice.
I turn to face him, "no, I’m the lead in ‘West Side Story’."
"Really? You accomplished your dreams? That’s wonderful."
"Stop it Luis. Nothings fine between us, so don’t act like it is." I correct the atmosphere, which was
quickly becoming out of my control.
"I wish you would forgive me." Luis muttered, and I turn to face the other wall again.
"I don’t know if I can forgive you Luis. We never really got along, but I always thought that being brother
and sister meant something. I didn’t even get informed Theresa was marrying." I sigh sadly.
"I wish there was someway to patch things up between us. Paloma, we all still love you, as difficult as it
may be for you to believe, we all still love you."
"I’d like to be alone now Luis." I say, still facing the other way. I hear him sigh, and the sound of
his shoes on the linoleum floor.
"By the way, Sam and I talked to the D. A. Looks like you’ll need to stay in Harmony for a while. At least
until you can testify at the trial." He says before the door shuts. I sink down into my bed. So maybe one
visit wasn’t enough to determine anything, but now it appeared I had time to figure our future relationship out.
I close my eyes, trying to imagine a happy time between me and my brother. A special memory of one Christmas pops
into my head.
I hadn’t been more than eight. For weeks, I looked around town, trying to pick out the perfect gift for Luis. That
was nearly impossible. Still, somehow I managed to find a gift I thought he’d like. It was a brand new soccer ball.
His other one had been ran over by a car just days before. Finally, I would be able to impress my brother, maybe
even earn his respect.
Antonio had always made me feel special, set me on a pedestal, and that angered Luis. They were complete opposites.
Luis stubborn and uptight, Antonio relaxed and easy going. But somehow, they managed to have a close connection.
They agreed on almost everything, except how to treat me. Antonio let me be myself, singing, acting, playing. Luis
always tried to make me be someone else, him.
I’ll never forget that Christmas morning. We all gathered around the tree. Mother, father, Luis, Antonio, Theresa,
who was only one, and me. Going from oldest to youngest, we took turns opening presents. I can’t remember what
I got that year, but I do remember Luis’ face when he opened the present from me. It was one of the few times he
hugged me.
That day was wonderful. We didn’t fight once. We were just like a picture book brother and sister. But then, that
was an isolated incident. Still, it was a happy time.
I pull up the covers of my hospital bed and take in the scent. Feeling bored, I flip on the small television and
channel surf.
"Hey you. Luis said he was gonna stop in, how’d it go?" Hank asks as he walks into my room and plops
down into the chair. I eye the bag in his hand, and take in the rich aroma of Chinese food.
"Is that for me?" I ask.
"Yep. I remember hospital food. Just nasty." Hank smiles as he picks up the bag and sets it on the table
between the chair and bed.
"Thanks. I appreciate it." I say, starting to eat the food.
"So, how’d your talk with Luis go?"
"Fine, I guess. We talked, not yelled, if that’s what you mean. We’ve still got issues, and I’m not ready
to forgive him yet." I sigh, sticking my fork into a water chestnut.
"The important thing is you tried. I can’t tell you how often me and Sam have exchanged words, but the important
thing is, we got past it. That’s what you and Luis need to do, get past it."
"Hank, you’ve known us practically our whole lives. We’ve ‘exchanged words’ almost everyday of our lives."
I shake my head.
"I’m not expecting miracles." Hank jokingly defended. I notice him looking down at my food, and I smile.
He still had a bottomless pit for a stomach.
"You want some? You brought it." I offer.
"I thought you’d never ask!" He stated, digging in with another fork. I watch as he takes a bit of sesame
chicken, and feel drawn to him. Since I’d known him, I always knew he had problems with his brother. But were we
really that much alike? The thought had never crossed my mine, but now, being back, it’s made me look at my brother’s
best friend in a totally different light. |
