"Mother" of the Year

♪ Soy yerbatero. Vengo a curar su mal de amores. Soy yo que quita los Dolores. Y habla con los animales. Dígame de que sufre usted…♪

Lacey was dancing along to the music with a couple of other kids while the clatter of pots and pans sounded from the kitchen nonstop.

It was the evening of Christmas Eve. The Valenzuela women have been working since three in the morning, and I wasn’t allowed to help – neither was Mr. Bergstrom or his wife’s brother for that matter.

Mrs. Bergstrom quickly placed a bowl full of tamales – or pasteles, as I heard it being called all day – onto the table that I was sitting at.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help, Mrs. Bergstrom?”
“Jack, I told you to call me ‘tía’, remember? And don’t worry! Mamá, mis hermanas, and I have it under control.”

“Rosalinda! Ven acá, por favor! Es tu turno pá hervir los pasteles!”
“Un momento, Mamá!”

She dug through her pocket and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and a five-dollar bill before handing it to me.

“If you really want to help, you can pick up a bottle of White rum – 750 mL – so we can make the coquito. Okay?”
I gave a small nod and a smile before standing up.

“Lacey, Daddy is going out for a minute. Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah!” She threw her hands up in the air with a large smile.

I knelt down and kissed her forehead with a smile before leaving the house.

A two-block walk down the street to the nearest grocery store, and a two-minute walk inside to find the rum.

I found the bottle and was about to pick it up—

“Jackie? What are you doing here?”

The sound of Jordan’s booming voice followed by two pairs of footsteps – I didn’t look, knowing exactly who the other pair belonged to.

“If you two don’t mind, I’m kind of busy and I have to be somewhere.”
I grabbed the bottle and tried to make my escape, but I was caught and pulled back by the hood of my jacket.

“You? You’re busy? That’s a first.”
“Please, let go of me, Dimitri.”

“Are you sure you’re not coming to our party tonight? It’s going to be fuckin’ wild, dude!” Jordon poked at my side.
“I’m sure. Now let me go.”

“Come on, Jackie! Try to have some fun for once in your life!”

I yanked my hood from Dimitri’s grasp and didn’t hesitate to rush towards the cashier.
I quickly paid for the rum and ran back to the house, happy to get away from them.

“Bien! Estas de vuelta!”

Mrs. Valenzuela rushed towards me and grabbed the rum from my hands before running back into the kitchen.
I walked into the dining room to see the table set with plates and all sorts of food.

“Are you okay, Jack?”
Mrs. Bergstrom came and stood next to me.

“I-I’m okay.”

I took a second to look around the room.

“Where’s Lace?”
“I think she ran into the living room a second ago.”

As soon as she said that, Lacey rushed back into the dining room, tears in her eyes as she wrapped her arms around my legs.

“Daddy…!”
“What’s wrong?”

I picked her up and wiped her tears away.

“It’s almost Christmas…And…And I left your present at Jord’s and Mitri’s house…!”
“Shh…It’s okay. I can open them when we get back home—”
“No…! It’s for Christmas! You have to open it on Christmas!”

I shushed her again as I rocked her in my arms.

“Would it make you feel better if Daddy got his present from the house so he can open them on Christmas?”
She nodded as she rested her head on my shoulder.

“Will you be a good girl and stay with tía so I can do so?”
She nodded again as she sat up and reached towards Mrs. Bergstrom who took her into her arms.

“A little smile before I leave?”
She wiped more of her tears away and gave me a small smile.
I smiled back.

“Are you going to be okay?” Mrs. Bergstrom had a concerned look on her face.

“…I’ll be fine.”
She didn’t seem to believe me, but didn’t say anything about it.

“Okay, but hurry back. Los pasteles no son buenos when they’re cold.”
“I will.”

“Daddy…It’s the blue-striped one. Under your bed.” Lacey spoke up.

I gave a slight nod and I walked out the door.

| x | x | x |

I could hear the music blaring from the inside of the house.

Laughter. Shouting. Yelling. Screaming.

I swallowed thickly before opening the door, carefully stepping inside.

The scent of alcohol immediately hit me as I tried to maneuver through the sea of intoxicated people who were either conversing, dancing, or…

Inhale. Exhale.
Get the present and get out.

I repeated those words to myself as I continued to push past everyone, dashing up the stairs when I made it to them.

I walked into my room, spotting a couple feverishly making out on my bed, yet they were too drunk to notice me grabbing the present from under them.

I heard a moan and cringed slightly – note to self: immediately wash the sheets when I come back – before stepping out and closing the door behind me.

“Hey…Where are you going…?”

I looked up to see a tall guy standing a little too close for comfort.
His eyes were glassed over and he reeked of Bacardi.

I backed away slightly only to hit the wall behind me.

I have to get out.

“You know the party is downstairs, right? Unless…”
I tensed up when he placed a hand on my cheek.

“…You’re lookin’ for other ways to have a little fun?”

I have to get out.

“I-I’m sorry…! I’m not interested…!”
He didn’t listen.

He forced me against the wall, our faces inches apart.

My heart began to race in my chest.

I have to get out!

“Let me go! I’ll scream!”
He only leant in closer, hands sliding down to my hips.

My body shook as tears threatened to spill down my face.
It was getting harder and harder to breathe.

“P-Please…!”
“Shh…I promise that I won’t be too rough.”

He inched closer and closer as he let out a dark laugh.

I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t think straight.

I couldn’t scream or speak as tears poured down my cheeks.

Then, everything went black in an instant.

And when I came to, the man was on the floor with a broken nose, a bruised lip, and a small object puncturing his throat.