Roman stepped in front of him before he could get any farther. “Back off, Jensen. Don’t start this shit with me today. I’m not in the mood to play.”
“This isn’t a game, bro. You know me better than that,” Nick responded solemnly. “It’s not like we couldn’t hear what was happening in here.”
The fact that others heard us normally would’ve caused me shame, but I was too shaken to care. Axel stepped in and added. “Come on, everyone needs their space to chill for a bit.”
Roman looked like he was about to unbridle his rage on his friends, but he finally relented. He glanced at me with a mixture of anger and helplessness, and I turned away before I allowed myself to feel any sympathy for him. He didn’t deserve my sympathy. He damn sure didn’t deserve my trust. He deserved to know for once in his life that he was not entitled to anything he wanted when he wanted it. Myself included.
What is it that you have that they want, Mom? The thought flashed through my brain for the millionth time, and I decided to skip my morning classes and drive back home to search through the apartment for any clues I could find. What could my mother have that would be of any value to Roman’s father? I thought about how her eyes flashed in fear when she’d seen Roman that day in the hospital.
I passed through the door and the apartment looked exactly the same as we’d left it a few weeks ago. I thought back to the bittersweet memory of Roman cleaning the place. Little did I know, he had an ulterior motive. Or maybe I did, but subconsciously didn’t want to believe it. Shaking it off, I set down my bag and made my way to her room. I started with the drawer in the nightstand by the bed. There were a few worn paperbacks of her favorite mystery books and a small book of daily devotionals. I thumbed through them in case she left any notes, but found nothing. I rifled through her dresser drawers, but only found her clothes.
I rubbed my forehead in frustration leaning against the doorjamb. I started thinking about the contract Roman mentioned. Initially, I thought he was crazy, but after this morning events? Nothing sounded too farfetched unfortunately. Where would she keep important documents? Think, Theo, think.
It dawned on me when I was filling out my college applications; I had to have a copy of my birth certificate, high school diploma, along with other documents. She’d kept them in an old hat box and pulled them out for me. I remember how we got sidetracked when she pulled out a Mother’s Day card I’d made her in kindergarten, since she collected my schoolwork over the years.
I dropped down and made an eye sweep under the bed. Nothing there except dust balls. Gross. I stood up with hands on my hips and glanced at the closet door. Striding over, I yanked it open and glanced up on the shelf over the clothing. There were hats, scarves, old blankets, but no hat box. “Dammit, where is it?” I rummaged through her clothes and checked below where the small space was crammed with shoes. Then I spotted a corner of the red box hidden in the left corner behind a pair of boots. Bingo!
I fell to my knee and pulled it out, falling back in a sitting position. I wrenched off the lid and saw a pile of papers. The old card I’d made out of construction paper was sitting on top of the stack. Scooping it out, I saw other documents in a manila folder: her lease agreement on the apartment, proof of purchase of our cars, medical bills from when she was in the hospital from her car wreck. I tossed it aside and saw another folder.
Flipping it open, I scanned over the formal paper and paused swallowing thickly. This was the documentation Roman was talking about. It wasn’t an employer/employee agreement. I passed through the legal jargon, and it basically said Rhonda Daniels agreed to drop her accusation against Roman and my hands shook. My stomach felt queasy because it was all wrong in the first place. Roman’s father offered her sixty thousand dollars and…one hundred seventy-five thousand dollars to me in a fund set up as a scholarship in my name.
“No,” I whispered. “This can’t be true.” I knew nothing. I thought we had no money. I’d applied for several scholarships. My grades were good. I’d earned the right to go to college. I closed my eyes thinking back to how I’d been turned down several times until my mother convinced me to fill out an application from some wealthy older man who was a philanthropist and an alumnus of Hillside University. I applied and easily got the scholarship worth the same amount stated in the contract. So easy, I didn’t even have to go in for an interview. “Oh my God.”
I drew my knees up dropping my head in shame. Roman knew this. He had to know this. How pathetic I must be to him. And, I was. She’s dependent on me. I rocked back and forth trying to figure out how to get out from under this. Under their hold. Under his hold.
But what information did she have that they wanted so badly? I leaned over the box and saw a black marble composition notebook at the bottom. Nothing was labeled on the front, but I pulled it out and flipped open the cover and read the date at the top in my mother’s perfect cursive handwriting from ten years ago:
July 20th—I’m so excited because today I was offered the job by a very wealthy family to be a full-time caretaker. The pay is good and Robert Martinez offered us free room and board, so I will be saving on expenses as well. I finally have the chance to make a better life for my baby girl.
I skimmed through several pages as she wrote a daily entry documenting her day, seeing through my mother’s eyes our time living on the Martinez estate:
Aug. 30th—Today Virginia had a good day. She talked about how much she loved watching the sunrise in the mornings, so I made certain she was on the east patio at seven a.m. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. Her joy was contagious and I looked over my shoulder to see Robert watching us from inside. For the past month, he’d always check in probably to make sure I was doing my job. He seemed like a shrewd businessman. But today he actually smiled at me.
Oct. 11th—Today was a rough day for Virginia. She was withdrawn and didn’t want to come out of her room. She sat in front of the window and stared out blankly for what seemed hours. I tried to engage her in conversations, but she only had monosyllabic responses. I felt as though someone was watching us. I looked up and saw Robert. He was leaned against the doorframe; his eyes were on me for several moments before he stood up and walked away.
More entries outlined Mom’s struggles and successes with Virginia and yet something was odd in her writing. The glances between Robert and her soon turned into subtle touches. His hand on her shoulder, giving her encouragement to not give up on his wife. The long conversations about how he felt alone and how Virginia was withdrawing from him. More moments where they had introspective conversations alone. Those interludes eventually turned into an embrace and intimate words. My stomach sunk with dread.
Feb. 2nd—The inevitable happened and I knew it was wrong, but I wanted it too. Robert kissed me. I feel so conflicted. Here I am trusted by Virginia to take care of her, but fear I’m falling in love with her husband…
My mouth fell slack as if I didn’t need more surprises in the day than I’d already had. I kept reading page after page. There were so many entries the notebook was full. Each page I read, made nausea swirl in my lower abdomen. This was what Robert Martinez was looking for. Jesus, Mother, what did you do?