I Don't Want to Lose You (40 page)

             
Ralph went with me to my breastfeeding class and left disappointed because he thought he was going to see real, live breasts in front of him, not just on the three minute video that was shown as a demonstration.  We both learned how to swaddle a baby, change a diaper and properly hold a baby while feeding it.  He offered to be my Lamaze coach and went to the classes with me.  He was grossed out to see the movies and promised me that he wouldn't look beyond my waist in the delivery room to see what was happening.

             
On October 2nd, days after Theo's birth date, I was in the delivery room with Ralph, my mom and Mrs. Cabrera.  Ralph kept his promise by staying above the waist and not looking down there.  After eighteen hours in labor, I gave birth to Teodoro William Cabrera, II.  I had already been calling him William.  I didn't like Junior and never had.  My saying the name Teodoro always signified to his father that I was upset and I didn't want to think about that every time I said his name.  And he was not my Theo, but he was his son.  Besides, “the second” sounded much better than “junior” for a politician's son.  I let Ralph cut the cord.

CHAPTER FIFTY

             
To say being a young, single mother was a struggle would be an understatement.  The only good thing about it was that I would be done raising him before I turned forty.  I eventually went back to college and that was a long and arduous task if I ever had one.  I worked full time and took one or two classes a semester. I moved out of my parents’ house into my own apartment when I was twenty four, which devastated my father.  William was his buddy to do things with that none of the females in the house were interested in, like going to a game or watching one on television or going fishing.  My dad even taught him how to play tennis and he was good at it for a little kid.  It wasn't until William was in second grade that I had finally graduated.  It was also when I finally let myself love again. 

             
I had dated a few men here and there but none of them were able to meet the standards that I had that were non-negotiable.  At the time I was the executive assistant to the Vice President of the software company that I was working for.  It wasn't what I really wanted to do but the pay was well, the benefits were great and there was room for me to eventually do something else in the company if I wanted to.  I had the pleasure of escorting a young gentleman to the Vice President's office.  He'd been there before but we never really had done more than small talk in the past.  Brandon Leighton.  He looked like the typical boy next door that could be found in any White, suburban town in the country.  He was tall, average built with wavy black hair and brown eyes.

             
After about fifteen minutes, he came out of the office and walked over to my desk.

             
“So, Monica, what would you like for lunch today?” he asked.

             
I stopped typing to look at him.  “Excuse me?”

             
“Lunch.  I'd like to take you to lunch if you don't already have plans.”

             
It took me a second to comprehend what he was asking since it didn't happen often to me due to the baggage I came with.  “I had brought a bowl of soup and some crackers.  That's my plan for lunch.”

             
“When is your lunch?”

             
I looked at the time on my computer screen.  “In about ten minutes.”

             
“How about you meet me in the lobby downstairs and we'll go somewhere around here where you can have more than soup and crackers?”

             
Free food.  I was in.  “Okay, I'll see you then, but I won’t have long.  I only have a forty five minute lunch.” I said calmly although my heart was jumping.

             
He flashed a smile and that was the first time that I noticed that he had dimples.  “Don’t worry.  I already cleared it with my uncle and now you have an hour.  I’ll see you downstairs.”

             
Twelve minutes later I was walking up to him and told him that I was ready.  He suggested a restaurant that we could walk to in less than five minutes.  After we were seated and I had a chance to look over the menu, I warned, “Despite what I was going to have for lunch, you should know that I’m not a salad and water type of woman, so I hope you have enough money for this.”

             
He chuckled.  “I think I'll be alright.  Thanks for the warning.”

             
We had such a nice conversation that we didn't spend much time eating before it was time for me to get back to work.  I had felt so comfortable talking to him and he wasn't at all what I had expected.  I thought he might have had some stuck up tendencies, but the truth was that he was a White man with an identity crisis and he had yet to be informed that he wasn't Black.  He set aside his business persona and was chilled and laid back.  When I referred to certain people or shows or songs, he knew who and what they were and could have a conversation with me about them.  It was refreshing to have an adult conversation with someone that I wasn't related to that could keep up with what I was saying without me having to educate them... and was White at that.  We had made plans to have dinner a couple of days later.

             
Brandon was very patient with me and realized that I was still a little fragile even after all the time that had passed.  The further we got into the relationship, the more I felt like I was betraying Theo.  It took some time for me to deal with the fact that he was always going to be in my mind and heart and could never and would never be replaced.  He was my first love, my first husband and my son's father.  Death had parted us and I wasn't bound to him anymore.  I had to remember the things he told me he expected of me if I considered remarrying.  Brandon and William got along quite well and I was the one who was holding us back.  Almost two years after our first date, we were married in a small ceremony that my family was able to attend.

EPILOGUE

Back to Present

June 2010

             
I hear the name Manuel Cabrera and jump up with everyone else who is around me screaming and making noise for the graduate.  Had I not recognized the name, I would have continued sitting there being lost in the treasured moments that will always remain buried in my heart, but not so deep that I can't dig them up instantaneously. 

             
I felt a tap on my shoulder. 

             
“Mom, can I go see if they're selling food here or something?  I'm starving,” William said.

             
I turn around to look at my ten year old son.  He looks just like his father and one would think that I didn't have anything to do with his conception.  He has a lean build, has his nose, cheekbones and eyes.  He's a shade darker than the light olive complexion of Theo.  The difference is in the hair.  Instead of Theo's straight, black hair, William’s hair is curly and, at the moment, in his father's L.A. Kings cap. 

             
“You are always eating,” I say as I start to fuss.  “I know your grandmother probably fed you before you all came here and you're going to eat once we leave.  That tapeworm of yours can wait.”

             
“Abuela,” he says to Mrs. Cabrera, “Mi mama esta siendo para mi.”

             
“I am not being mean to you,” I say to him. “You eat more than I do and I'm eating for two.”

             
Mrs. Cabrera put her arm around him and says, “You're mother is right.  We'll get you some food when we get back to the house.  Be patient.  It will be over soon.”

             
I turn around and try not to roll my eyes.  The child is constantly being babied by everyone else and then it’s up to me to administer the discipline and be the “meanie.”  I guess that's all apart of being a parent.  My mother refers to parenthood as “payback.”  Everyone else has the benefit of spoiling him and then sending him home, while I have the pleasure of dealing with the aftermath. 

             
He is a good kid.  He'd make his father proud.  He plays the trombone in band at school and takes occasional guitar lessons from Ralph.  He plays on the baseball and soccer teams, studies hard and makes good grades.  He reminds me of his father with his drive and determination and his reasoning.  I would be lying if I said that there aren't moments in speaking to him that I don't respond by calling him “Theo.”  It doesn't surprise me, though. 

             
As Theo had asked, I started giving William the letters at the ages he had requested for me to do so.  I had to read a couple of them to him since his father's handwriting sometimes resembled the scribbles of a doctor.  Some letters had Theo's recollections of what he had gone through at that age with the things that he had liked to do.  They all had a reminder to listen and respect me. 

             
As far as the videos that he had made were concerned, I had watched only one of them and I had seen it more times than my favorite movie and knew it all by heart.  I started to show the first video to William when he was around two months old.  It was very sweet and hard to watch for some time.  Theo sang different kid’s songs, some with the guitar to accompany him.  He sang the alphabet song, Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star and other lullabies.  He jokingly advised William to have me show him what I can do to Mary Had a Little Lamb.  He even added in peek-a-boo.  As William got older and started to find peek-a-boo amusing, it was adorable to see him laugh at his dad.  I wanted William to know early on what his father looked and sounded like, which is why the little betrayer had “da da” as his first word.