A Sense of Wonder

Despite her stubbornness, Paulina proved to be no match for the pain. She bore it as well as she could, having gritted her teeth while Dr. Goswami mended her fingers, and when the doctor set upon her back, Paulina stuck the towel in her mouth and bit down on it, foolishly believing that would be enough to get her through the rest of it. She struggled to endure the hell of having the wounded prodded and cleaned, there was even a point in which she cried out in agony and terrified her doctor, but despite Goswami’s supplications, Paulina continued without the morphine. She was going to get through it. She had to. It was her penance for having been such an idiot, and she was determined to see it through, but then . . . then she passed out. Her body decided that it had had enough. There was only so much stress a person could put up with, only so much that a brain could tolerate subjecting its body to, and so without warning, it rendered her unconscious.

The moment her body went limp, Dr. Goswami went into emergency mode. She quickly positioned Paulina so that she lay flat against the bed, and with her in that position, the doctor removed the bloodied glove from her right hand and proceeded to check for a pulse. After she ascertained that the heart was still in fact beating, she checked the airway to make sure it was clear. There was nothing obstructing it, which allowed the doctor to then elevate her patient’s legs about twelve inches above heart level. As she held Paulina’s legs in place, she called out for a nurse, who quickly ran in and took over.

As the nurse continued to elevate the legs, the Doctor prepped a morphine injection. She could not in good conscience adhere to her patient’s no morphine policy. It was idiotic for her to have even indulged that request. As soon as she got Paulina in the room, she should’ve administered the shot, that way the stress on her body would’ve lessened and the cleaning and stitching would have gone by much smoother, but she had indulged her patient and that indulgence led her to passing out from pain.

“When I’m done administering this, I want you to go set aside two pints of O negative.” Doctor Goswami told her nurse. “Don’t bring it here though. I’m going to start the transfusion once we transfer her over to –”

“The fuck’s going on?” grumbled Paulina as she regained consciousness. Her eyes struggled to focus. “Why you holding my legs up?” she asked when she saw the young nurse. “Why am I –” Her eyes went wide when she saw the needle. “No. I said no morphine.”

“And I tried to honor that request,” spoke Dr. Goswami. “I went ahead and started the cleaning and stitching without you properly medicated, and that made you pass out. As your doctor, I cannot continue with treatment in your present condition. You must have morphine administered. Otherwise, we risk you fainting again or worse – perhaps your heart might become so overworked that it gives out.”

“That won’t happen,” she argued, petulantly.

“It could.” Dr. Goswami firmly stated. “Now look, if after I’ve treated you, you don’t want any further morphine, then no more will be administered, but as for this moment, the morphine is crucial to your treatment. So I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to abide by your wishes, but I have to do what’s best for you.”

“You can’t numb the pain though,” she whispered. “Don’t you understand? I have to feel it.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s my penance.” Her tears came back. “Everyone said I had to get bodyguards, they insisted throughout the entire campaign, but I was so fucking stubborn. I kept saying no one would hurt me, that I’d be alright, but . . . look at me.” She lifted her right hand and covered her eyes as she sobbed. “I was a fucking idiot and it cost me dearly.”

“Then why are you making yourself suffer even more?” the doctor asked softly.

“I . . .”

“You’ve suffered enough.” Dr. Goswami reached out for her hand and lowered it from her face. “There’s no need for penance. Now what do you say we get you better?”

Paulina nodded, her eyes shining in gratitude. “Thank you, doctor.”

Things went by much smoothly after that. Paulina was blissfully numb from the pain, she sat motionless while Dr. Goswami stitched up her back, and when it came to mend her face, she was a little weirded out by what was going on, but the morphine was so wonderful that she didn’t throw a fit or fidget too much.

When Dr. Goswami finished mending Paulina, two nurses came into the room and transferred Paulina onto a wheelchair. They then took her over to her private room. She was to be admitted overnight, something that she wouldn’t have consented to so easily, but the morphine made her agreeable and even without it, her doctor would have kept her just to be on the safe side. The room was bigger than Paulina had expected. The Kaiser in Baldwin Park didn’t have much space, she remembered from when Adrian had appendicitis, but the facilities in West Los Angeles had recently been renovated. There was the standard sized bed, but along the window there was a bench that doubled as storage, it could comfortably seat three people, and there was even an armchair present.

“This is nice.” Paulina complimented as the nurses lifted her onto the bed. “Is this like a suite or is this how they all look now?”

“It’s how they all look, Ma’am.” The nurse replied.

“Go Kaiser!” she said with a loopy grin. “This is why I fucking love you guys.”

The nurses indulged her in conversation as they set up her IV. There were two lines that had been placed, one to replenish her fluids and the other for her blood transfusion. A third had been discussed, it would’ve been used for morphine, but the doctor ultimately decided against it. She didn’t want to unnecessarily medicate her patient. Instead, she would wait until Paulina awoke, and at that time she would ask her to rate the pain. From there they would be able to decide what her best option for pain management would be, but for now Paulina was comfortable and chatty with the nurses.

“Are people gonna be let in?” she asked one of the nurses. “Because I just realized I haven’t called my parents and I really want my mom and dad here.”

“Visitors are allowed.” The nurse confirmed. “If you like, I can contact your parents and as long as they’re here during the hours of 9am-9pm, there shouldn’t be any problem.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Of course.” She smiled, warmly. “Do you know if they’re on your contact list?”

“Mhm,” replied Paulina. “They’re under Ricardo and Irmalinda. The others on there are my brothers, but you don’t have to call them, my mom will call them.”

“Well then I’ll make sure your mother’s notified that you’re in the hospital and that you want to see her. Is there any other information you want to disclose?”

“Just tell her not to worry. She’s got high blood pressure so I don’t want her worrying too much. I mean, she’s on medication, but I don’t want to risk it.” She paused a moment before adding. “And when they’re here can you let them in?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you so much.” She tried to smile, but it didn’t quite happen. “I mean it.”

“I’m glad to be of service.” The nurse assured. “Now is there anything you need to be comfortable? We’ll be in to check up on you periodically, but before we go, is there anything you need at this moment?”

“Could you turn off the light, please?” asked Paulina. “I wanna nap.”

“I’ll personally turn them off and shut the blinds.” Dr. Goswami spoke up. She had stood to the side while the nurses set up the devices, but now she was going to inspect their work to ensure everything had been properly done. “Since you’ll be napping, do you want me to tell your staff that you wish to be undisturbed?”

“No.” She wanted someone to look after her. “I’d rather you let one in.”

“They can both come in if it’s what you want.” The doctor informed her. “You’re allowed four visitors at a time, so it’s up to you.”

“Four?” repeated Paulina. “That’s a lot! The Kaiser by my house only does two. So did the one in Washington.”

“That’s why West Los Angeles is the best.” Dr. Goswami smiled.

“Does that mean four people can stay overnight?”

“Only one overnight visitor, I’m afraid.”

“Fair enough,” said Paulina, suppressing a yawn. “Well since you said Michael and Jeff can both come in, let them in.”

“Will do.” The doctor assured. “Now have a good nap. Getting plenty of rest is going to be crucial to your recovery process. Your body needs time to heal. I’ll be in to check up on you later and if you need anything at all, just go ahead and press that button. I requested they place the IV in your left hand so your right could remain mobile.”

“Good call.” Paulina wiggled the fingers on her right hand as she spoke. “Otherwise someone would’ve had to wipe my ass, because I’m useless with the left.”

Dr. Goswami fought back the urge to laugh. It was surreal seeing the poised and elegant candidate speaking so informally. She had been at several of her campaign rallies and had followed the debates, so to hear the same woman who had eloquently discussed foreign policy, suddenly talk about wiping her ass, was definitely giggle worthy, but for form’s sake, the doctor didn’t giggle or laugh. She instead turned off the lights, closed the windows and then stepped out into the hall where the nurses were waiting for her. She told the nurses not to trouble themselves with contacting her parents, she would personally make those calls, but before that, she was going to bring in Michael and Jeffrey.

When she entered the waiting room, she didn’t just find two tired looking staff members, she found the grief stricken parents that she had promised to call. Irmalinda had been the first to arrive. After having passed on the message to her husband, she jumped into her car and sped off. She didn’t even bother with calling her sons to let them know how their sister was doing. The only person she had to call was Ricardo. He had to know so that he could get his ass to the hospital, and once they were both there, they could fill their sons in on what was going on. Had she been thinking straight, Irmalinda would’ve called her sons before she left the house, but her thoughts were so focused on her daughter, that she didn’t have any left over for them. That was why when Raphael called to ask her if she’d seen the news, she felt guilty about having neglected him and promptly told him the little that she knew. She then charged him with calling his brothers. She couldn’t be talking and driving. She didn’t have it in her to multitask like that. If she talked to long about what was going on with Paulina, then she would start crying and she couldn’t afford that. At least not until she reached the hospital. That was why she ran into the emergency room area without a single tear in her eye. She was in survival mode. She had to figure out how her daughter was doing, be admitted into her room, make sure she received the best treatment – she had to take care of her little girl, and in order to so, she had to keep it together. She had to be strong, because despite Mexican machismo, she was the true rock of the Balcázar family. She was the one that united them, the one that they turned to in times of trouble.

And sure enough, when her husband ran into the emergency room, he was the one that needed to be consoled. His eyes were bloodshot from all the crying he’d done during the drive over, there was a hideous bulging vein in the middle of his forehead – that vein only came out whenever he sobbed, and he was so shaken, so out of his wits that he couldn’t even talk. This was worse than when his daughter had been hit by that damn Aston Martin. That had been an accident. There’d been no malice involved. His daughter had simply put herself in danger by not thinking well, but the stabbing was different, because that was a calculated attempt against her. That meant that there was someone in the world that hated his daughter so much that they were willing to go to jail in order to kill her, and that made Ricardo sick. How could anyone hate his daughter? How could anyone harm the light of his eyes? It was one thing for her to have been involved in an accident, it was a different thing entirely for someone to actively try to kill her, and the fact that someone had done that – the fact that some bastard had tried to rob him of his light, left him distraught. And he didn’t care if anyone saw him crying, he didn’t give a fuck if anyone thought he was less of a man. His child had been attacked. There was no keeping his composure.

The moment Irmalinda noticed her husband in the ER, she went over to him. She didn’t say anything. No words were necessary between them. She simply stared at him, her eyes mirroring his own pain, but there was a strength to them that his own lacked. It was that strength that drew him in. He ran into her arms, he buried his face into her shoulder and sobbed as she held him. His wife was his greatest comfort. His wife was his greatest friend. It was her strength that steadied him when his failed.

It was in that embrace that Dr. Goswami first saw them. She didn’t recognize who they were, their faces were hidden, but she was struck by the protective manner in which the man was being held. It was the woman acting as the rock, the woman standing firm, and the doctor couldn’t help but wonder who they were and what their sorrow was. And when she learned from Jeffrey that that was Miss. Balcázar’s parents, she understood why her patient had been so adamant in their being contacted.

Dr. Goswami didn’t immediately approach them. She didn’t want to ruin such an intimate moment. Instead she stood off to the side with Jeffrey and Michael, and when Irmalinda and Ricardo finally separated, she made her way over to them. She introduced herself, informed them that her daughter was in her care. She then filled them in on the injuries Paulina had sustained, as well as the treatment that she’d undergone. They hung on every word she said, desperate to know how their daughter was going, and when Dr. Goswami assured them that their daughter was out of harm’s way, that she was only staying overnight as a precaution, they both felt as though a weight had been lifted.

Shortly after that, Dr. Goswami told them that she’d personally escort them to Paulina’s room, she also informed Michael and Jeffrey of what floor the new waiting room would be located at. That done, she led the Balcázars through the doors that separated the waiting room and the examination areas. They walked down the hall until they reached an elevator, once there they went up three floors, and then exited. They walked down a long corridor, right passed a nurse’s station, and when they reached the door of Paulina’s room, the doctor reminded them to be quiet.

“She’s asleep.” Dr. Goswami informed them. “But as long as you’re not speaking loudly, she should be alright. The morphine and exhaustion will undoubtedly keep her asleep for at least a few hours. If at any time, she wakes up or you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call the nurses or visit their desk. I’ll be back within the hour to check up on her, but unfortunately I won’t be able to remain in control of her care. I’m going to transfer her over to one of the doctor’s assigned to this area. When I do, I’ll come in with them so you know who will be looking after her.” She paused a moment before adding, “Any questions?”

“No.” Irmalinda offered on behalf of herself and her husband. “We just want to see her.”

“Of course.” Dr. Goswami held the door open. “There you are . . .”

Ricardo hesitated at the door, but Irmalinda didn’t. She went right in, commanding herself to remain strong as she grew ever closer to the bed. She was terrified of what condition her daughter would be in. The last time Paulina was in the hospital, she was barely recognizable. Her face had been bruised and swollen, she had broken her right arm, and was hooked up to a ventilator. Seeing her like that had been absolutely devastating for Irmalinda, and she imagined that her daughter would be even worse than she had been then, but when she turned on the light, she didn’t find her daughter lying helplessly. There was no ventilator, her daughter was breathing on her own. That alone was reason for Irmalinda to rejoice, and when she saw her daughter’s face, she couldn’t help but smile. The right side was perfectly untouched, and for a moment it made her think that the left would be just the same, that the doctor had lied when she said that Paulina’s face had sustained damage, but then she stepped closer, then she saw that her daughter’s left cheek was heavily bandaged. She wondered what the skin beneath looked like, how it would heal, but just as quickly as that thought came to her, a feeling of guilt set in. It didn’t matter what her daughter’s cheek looked like, what mattered was that she was alive.

Eventually, Ricardo found the courage to walk into the room. Like his wife, he expected the worst. He vividly remembered what his little girl had looked like in that London Hospital, that was something he would never forget, and as he made his way to her bedside, he feared that she would be even worse off the second time around, but when he saw her face, when he saw that there was no swelling or bruising, he fell to his knees and lifted his hands towards the heavens, thanking the Virgin of Guadalupe for having taken care of her. It was on his knees that he made his way over to the bed and when he reached it, he took his daughter’s hand and began uttering prayers in gratitude. His wife joined in. They lost themselves in prayer. Thanking God, thanking la Virgencita, thanking blessed Jesus. They prayed and prayed until Irmalinda’s phone began ringing. It was Luis, calling to say that he and his brothers were on their way. Their respective spouses and children were waiting back at Raphael’s house. They had dabbled with the idea of all going over, but ultimately decided against it. They didn’t know how long they would have to be in the waiting room and the children wouldn’t stand to be cooped up. Instead, they decided that once Paulina was conscious and able to accept visitors, they would drive over to visit.

Irmalinda didn’t immediately answer her phone. She let it go to voicemail several times, but realizing that it was just going to keep ringing, she finally answered and spoke with her sons. She prepared herself to answer all their questions, but they only had one. Was chunky butt going to make it? To that, Irmalinda proudly replied that she would. She told them that the doctor said she was out of danger and that the only reason she was being kept overnight was to monitor her progress and ensure that she rested. That was a huge relief to them. They’d been afraid that their sister might not live, that their family would lose its baby, but she was alright. Their little sister was still breathing and that comforting thought filled their hearts with joy throughout the rest of the drive.

When the Balcázar boys arrived at the hospital, their sister was still asleep. For some reason they thought she’d be awake by then, that she’d be sitting up when they walked in and smile at the massive sunflower arrangement they’d brought her, but none of that happened. Their flowers were simply set on a nearby table and they crowded her bedside, taking in her appearance. Like their parents, they had prepared themselves for the worst. The news had relayed eyewitness accounts of the brutal act and there was even footage of it, not that they’d seen the footage, just hearing about what happened had been enough for them. So they expected their sister to be beyond recognizable, but there she lay, looking the same as ever. They knew that beneath the bandages lay hidden the gash that had been carved onto her face, but that was a superficial injury. That didn’t matter to them. What mattered was that their sister was alive and would make a full recovery.

The brothers remained in the room for nearly an hour. Their parents were busy making phone calls downstairs. Family members from all over North America had called to check in on Paulina. The attack was plastered all over the news in the United States and even in Mexico. Paulina was popular over there. Her interviews on Spanish language media had been broadcast throughout the country and when they heard that she had been attacked, they ran breaking news segments. As such, her aunt and uncles and cousins called her parents to see what exactly had happened. Irmalinda and Ricardo explained to them that Paulina had been attacked during a rally by a knife wielding bastard, that she had lost a liter of blood and was expected to make a fully recovery. Each relative told them that they would keep Paulina in their prayers and that justice would be served, each relative reminded them that if they ever needed anything at all, they would always be there for them.

The Balcázars were a tightknit family, sometimes that closeness could be headache inducing, dealing with hundreds of people always is, but their unity in that moment was a source of strength. They were going to get through this. Their daughter would recover. Justice would be served. Of that, there was no doubt.

In the midst of all the calls being made, there was one person that couldn’t get through. That was Francis. He’d been in the middle of a meeting when he learned what happened. One of the interns burst into the conference room and ran right over to the television mounted on the wall. They remained silent as they fiddled with the remote, completely ignoring the questions being asked. This wasn’t something they could bring themselves to say. It was difficult news to deliver. Difficult news to believe. That’s why it had to be seen. So the intern turned the channel to MSNBC, and sure enough, there was the headline that Paulina had been viciously attacked during her campaign rally at an abortion clinic. They showed a clip of her delivering her speech. The left side of her face was entirely covered by the shirt, and her dress was stained crimson. It was a difficult sight to see. The staff members and volunteers outside stared at each other in disbelief, there were even some that had tears in their eyes, and things were the same in the conference room – their candidate had been attacked. Their beliefs had come under direct fire.

Francis watched in horror as the news played video of the attack. He watched as the man stabbed Paulina in her back, he watched with tears in his eyes as she turned around and fought for her life, he watched her hands buckle, and when the knife started inching towards her face, he couldn’t take it anymore. He ran out. The first thing he thought to do was call her, maybe she’d answer and . . . well, he didn’t know what she’d say but as long as he could hear her voice, it’d be alright. But that idea was soon cast aside. She wouldn’t answer. She was probably at a hospital. That was why he called his uncle, who briefed him on everything he knew.

“Is that it?” asked Francis, dissatisfied with the information. “Don’t you know anything else? What has the doctor said?”

“Nothing,” replied Michael. “The nurse took her in and we haven’t had any news since then. I imagine we’ll be hearing something relatively soon, but at present, all we know is what we knew when we arrive here.”

“And you’re sure she was conscious?” Francis had already been assured that she was, but he needed to hear it again. “She wasn’t lightheaded or dizzy when she went in? Could she still hold a conversation? Or did she –”

“She was wide awake and coherent.” Michael assured. “That bastard didn’t do any grievous harm. Her back will heal, as will her hand and her face. Although I have to admit that I don’t think that scar is ever going to fade.”

“I don’t give a fuck about that.” Francis snapped. “Who cares about whether or not her face is scarred! She’s alive. That’s what matters!”

“Yes, of course, I was only saying that –”

“As soon as I’m able to, I’ll head down there.” He told his uncle. “I just have to appoint an acting Deputy Director. That shouldn’t be hard. I already have someone in mind, they just have to accept and as soon as that’s done, I’ll see whether I can fly down or if I have to drive.”

“Get a hold of yourself Francis, you can’t abandon your post!” Michael firmly stated. “You have a responsibility to this campaign! You must remain at your post and see that the constituents concerns are addressed. Do you hear me?”

“It is out of respect for this campaign that I am not leaving until I appoint an acting Deputy Director. Or would you prefer I just left?”

“Francis –”

“Nothing is going to keep me from being at her side.” Francis went on. “That’s where I belong, not here. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have arrangements to make.”

After hanging up, Francis immediately sought out Vanessa Hoang. She was the only person there that he felt could competently manage the district. Anne perhaps might not agree with him, but he didn’t care. He needed someone to run the area, because he had absolutely no intention of returning. He didn’t belong there. His place was at Paulina’s side. Had he been with her during the rally, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt. He would’ve protected her just like he had when that shoe was thrown at her, but he hadn’t been there. He’d been on the road, driving up for a meeting, but he was going to get back to her and he was going to make sure she was okay, because nearly losing her made him realize that he was done waiting around.

And so he marched back into the conference and asked everyone except for Vanessa to leave. It was then that he informed her of his decision to step down from his post and his desire for her to fill the vacancy. Although nervous about taking on such responsibility, Vanessa quickly accepted the offer. This would be her big break. Her time to demonstrate to Anne what she was made of, and hopefully if she did a good job, that might translate into a job with Anne’s firm.

That settled, Francis turned his attention to his travel arrangements. He didn’t want to drive all the way down to Los Angeles, having to focus on the road and dealing with traffic would drive him crazy, so he thought that flying was the best option, except it wasn’t. The closest airport that had flights to Los Angeles was the one in Merced. Getting there would be a half hour drive, but if they had flights going, that would cut his travel time significantly. Unfortunately for Francis, they didn’t have any flights scheduled for that afternoon or evening. He then thought about making the commute to San Jose or Oakland, but getting there would take an hour and a half with light traffic. And on top of that, there would be the wait to clear security and then waiting around the airport until the flight finally left. It was too much of a waste of time going that route. He had to drive. There was no other options. It was either that or take a bus or hire a cab, but those would take even longer. He would drive himself there and remain there, and to that effect, he rounded up his belongings and hit the road.

It was nearly eight when he finally arrived at the hospital. He had spent most of the drive on the phone with various members of the Balcázar family. He’d tried getting in touch with Irmalinda and Ricardo first, but their phones were busy. Every single time he called, it went straight to voicemail. Needing to talk to one of them, he opted to call Luis, and sure enough, he picked up. It was Luis who told him that Paulina was out of danger, that the doctor had cleaned the wounds and closed them, that she was fast asleep and receiving a blood transfusion. Francis welcomed that news. He was relieved to hear that she was okay. His uncle had told him that Paulina wasn’t in any real danger, but hearing it from her brother made her safety a reality. He stayed on the phone with Luis, who then passed him over to Adrian and Raphael. Francis offered his sympathies to them, as well as words of support. He stated his commitment to ensuring that justice was served, he would help the prosecution in any way that could, and he would ask his contacts in the FBI to investigate the matter and gather evidence for the trial that would surely take place.

His words comforted the brothers and when he spoke to their parents, it comforted them as well. They thanked him for keeping Paulina in his thoughts and for always being there for her. The tone with which they spoke to him made him feel like he was a part of their family, instead of just a friend. He’d been around them long enough to make his way into the tightknit group, over five years had been spent with them. He’d even joined them on a couple family trips. He had integrated himself into the Balcázar family, just as Paulina had integrated herself into the Kennedy family. She went sailing with them, went rowing. She was very much a part of their world, which was why during the drive down, Francis was bombarded with calls from his family. His mother and brothers called him shortly after he hung up with Ricardo and Irmalinda, then Bobby gave him a ring. He’d been up north in San Francisco working on the campaign, and when he found out, he was struck by the memory of losing his own father. He wanted to travel to Los Angeles to see how she was doing, but he wasn’t going to neglect his duties to the campaign. He had to make sure his area was going okay, he owed her that much.

When he arrived at the hospital, the main entrance was flooded with reporters. There were established journalists present, a reporter from every major network, and even members of the paparazzi. Everyone had gathered in hopes of being the first to get some scoop from the campaign, but so far, no official statement had been released and no one in the Balcázar family had directed any words towards them. It was because of the press that the Balcázar boys told their spouses to stay home with the kids, it wouldn’t be right to expose them to that fuss, and they knew Paulina would agree. So instead they told them to plan some sort of welcome home party for tomorrow, something intimate with just their immediate family.

The press was growing restless when Francis finally turned up, and when they saw him, they descended. They thought they might be able to get a statement from him or that he would want to comment. The established reporters and journalists, politely asked him questions, but the paparazzi had no integrity. If he would not answer willingly, then they would try to get a rise from him, but they were fools, because such tactics don’t work on Kennedys. Francis grew up in the most high profile political family in the United States. He knew his way in front of a camera, he knew his way around a reporter, and so he turned them out and walked right into the hospital without uttering a word or even acknowledging their presence.

As soon as he was inside, he called Luis and asked him where to go. Luis told him to hand tight, that he would go downstairs and get him.

“Frankie’s here.” Luis informed his parents and Raphael. Adrian was outside in the waiting room. “I’m gonna get him. I’ll be right back.”

It was while Luis went to fetch Francis that Paulina finally woke. She was disoriented at first, the bright light of the hospital room had her squinting, and in those first few moments, she was so out of it that she didn’t even remember that she was in a hospital or that she’d been attacked. The morphine lingered in her system. She no longer felt the initial warmth and weightlessness. She simply felt normal, which was a feat in itself considering how her day had gone. It was that feeling of normality that made her think she’d fallen asleep with the blinds open at the hotel room. It made her believe that she was still lying in bed with Francis, and not wanting the moment to end, she shielded her eyes with her right hand. She expected that in a minute or so, her eyes would adjust to the light and she’d be able to see, but when her eyes did adjust, they didn’t see the familiar hotel room. They instead saw her mother standing at the foot of her bed.

“Mama . . .” she whispered, the disbelief apparent in her voice.

“Mi niña (my little girl).” A massive smile burst upon Irmalinda’s face. “¡Al fin! (Finally!)”

It was then that days happenings came back to Paulina. She remembered her morning with Francis, the visit to the elementary, her interview. She vividly recalled being attacked at the Pro-Choice rally. She remembered everything, the way her blood glistened on the blade, the freckled dusted across her attacker’s nose, the way it felt went the blade collided against her scapula. The details all suddenly rushed back to her. She remembered wanting to attack him, destroying the conference room. She remembered thinking about Francis when she thought her life was over.

Overwhelmed by reality, her heart rate shot up. The machine beat erratically as hot tears slid down her face. The morphine had deluded her into thinking everything was okay, that nothing had happened to her, and she’d been more than happy to believe the lie. She’d been all too willing to forget the hell she’d been put through, but life wasn’t that simple. She’d been attacked and there was no going back from that. There was no hiding the scars or pretending it never happened. She would forever be reminded of it. Whenever she looked in the mirror she would see the scar that ran across her left cheek, whenever she looked down at her left hand, she would see where the index finger and thumb had been cut to the bone. Her back, she could avoid seeing. That scar she might forget in time, but the others would always be there. The others would remind her of the day where she nearly lost her life, and at that moment she couldn’t imagine ever viewing them as a testament to her strength and courage. At that moment she viewed them as disfigurements, and her body reacted accordingly.

Irmalinda wanted to comfort her distraught daughter, to hold her in her arms and make everything better, but after thirty years of being her mother, she understood when her touch was necessary and when her husband’s was better suited. It was for that reason that she remained at the foot of the bed. Ricardo was the one Paulina needed. Whenever their daughter bordered on the hysterics, he was the one that calmed her down. It had been that way since she was a baby. There was just something about his horrible singing voice that soother her during her worst moods. That was why Ricardo walked over to the right side of the bed. He sat down on the edge of it and with the tenderness of a devoted parent, he carefully lifted his daughter. He didn’t have to raise her all the way, the moment she felt his hand on her back she instinctively turned into him. She cried into his chest as he held her close. She cried out of anger, out of sorrow and pain.

As she cried, Ricardo began to slowly sway from side to side. It was the same technique he’d used on her when she was a wailing infant. That comforting motion brought down the intensity of her sobs, but it wasn’t enough. To truly soothe his daughter, he had to sing, and so he began singing Cielito Lindo. He was by no means good at it, his children had inherited his horrible singing voice, but that didn’t matter to Paulina. To her ears, there was no sound more soothing than her father’s voice. It made her worries disappear. It transported her back to a simpler time when all her problems could be taken care of by her parents. It was that sense of security that eventually calmed her down. She was no longer sobbing or even crying into her father’s chest. She simply rested her head against it. She was embarrassed for having gone off like that. She didn’t want to worry her parents. She didn’t want them thinking things were going to be as bad as when she got into that accident in London.

This time around she was going to be better.

This time around she wasn’t going to sink into depression.

“Sorry . . .” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I didn’t want you seeing me like that.”

She was going to wipe away her tears with the heel of her right hand, but before she could do so, her mother wiped them with a handkerchief.

“No seas mensa. ¿Si tu familia no te puede ver así, entonces quién? Yo sé que tú no nos quieres preocupar, pero somos tus padres y nos vamos a pasar la vida entera preocupándonos de ti y tus hermanos, porque eso es ser padre. (Don’t be an idiot. If your family can’t see you like that, then who can? And I understand that you didn’t want to worry us, but we’re your parents and we’re going to spend our entire lives worrying about you and your brothers, because that’s what being a parent is about).” Irmalinda finished wiping her daughter’s tears. “Ahora déjame verte. (Now let me have a look at you).”

Irmalinda examined her daughter with the same thoroughness she had used when Paulina was a baby. It didn’t matter that she was in her thirties. What mattered was that her daughter was sick and she had to be looked after. So she touched her forehead, looking into her eyes, peaked inside her mouth, and at the end of all that, asked her if she wanted anything in particular to eat, because food is always the best medicine.

“I’m fine, mama.” Paulina replied. “If anything I’m a little thirsty, but more than anything I just want to look at you.” Her eyes went from her mother to Raphael. “Pensé que de esa no me salvaba. Sentía que el mundo ya se me acaba, pero aquí estoy. La Virgencita me protegió con su manta y aquí estoy. (I didn’t think I was going to make it. I felt that my time on earth was ending, but here I am. The blessed Virgin protected me with her robe and here I am. And I have to ask for your forgiveness).” With the heel of her right hand, she wiped away the tears that feel. “Y les quiero pedir perdón (and I want to ask for forgiveness).”

“Perdón (forgiveness)?” repeated Ricardo, baffled as to why’d she say that.

“Como que perdón (what do you mean forgiveness)?” asked Irmalinda, looking uneasily at her daughter.
“Por ser tan necia. Todos me dijeron que consiguiera seguridad pero no hice caso. Pensé que no sabían nada. Que yo era más viva, pero fui una babosa y por poco me matan. (For being so stubborn. Everyone told me that I should get bodyguards, but I didn’t pay attention. I thought they didn’t know what they were talking about. That I knew better, but I was a fucking idiot and it almost cost me my life).” Her nostrils flared. “And I’m so sorry for putting you through this. The campaign’s been hard enough on all of you. You’ve had to deal with so much crap, and I’m so sorry to have added more.”

“That’s enough,” said Raphael, firmly. “We didn’t come here for you to apologize. We came here to make sure you’re alright.”

“But I received so many threats. I should’ve taken them seriously.”

“Most threats are never acted on.” He told her. “People just send them to mess with someone’s head.”

“That’s what I thought!” she exclaimed. “But he was serious. He really did want to kill me.”

“He didn’t though.” Raphael reminded. “And he’s never ever going to. No one will ever harm you again.”

“How can you be so sure?” she asked.

“Because your bodyguards are here.” He informed her. “There’s one standing right outside your door. Another in the waiting room.”

“That can’t be right,” she said, mostly to herself. “They weren’t supposed to get in until six. I-I-I can’t have been out for that long!”

“Cálmate (calm down).” Irmalinda gently ordered. “Estabas cansada, tu cuerpo ocupaba descansar (you were tired, your body needed to rest).”

“The dinners!” she cried out, suddenly growing frantic. “I had to visit a nursing home and then there was a fundraiser to get more money. I can’t be in here! I have to leave!” She made a move to yank out the catheter in her left arm, but before she could, her father grabbed her free hand. “Let go, dad!”

“You no go anywhere.” Ricardo firmly stated. He was speaking in English, which meant he was not to be messed with. “This is where you stay.”

“¡No me puedo quedar aquí! Tengo que ponerme a trabajar. Si no hago eso no voy a tener suficiente dinero para lo que queda de la elección. (I can’t stay here! I have to get to work. If I don’t, I won’t have enough money for what’s left of the campaign).”

“Paulina Aureliana Balcázar,” he said her name slowly, just like he used to when she got in trouble as a teenager. “No seas necia. ¿Te vas y luego que pasa? ¿Tú crees en verdad que vas a estar bien? Porque déjame decirte algo, si te sales del hospital vas a regresar en una o dos horas, porque no te debes esforzar. Horita te tienes que cuidar y tienes que mantener reposo. ¡Eso es lo que dijo la doctora! Nos dijo que te iba admitir para poder asegurar que tu descansaras y ahora estas chingando que te quieres ir, pero déjame te digo que eso no se va poder. Tu mama y yo nos vamos a quedar aquí toda la noche para asegurarnos de que no te salgas. (Don’t be so stubborn. You leave and then what happens? Do you honestly think you’ll be okay? Because let me tell you something, if you leave this hospital you’re going to come back in like an hour or two, because you’re not supposed to exert yourself. Right now you have to look after yourself and make sure you get lots of rest. That’s what the doctor said to do! She told us that she was admitting you overnight so she could ensure that you’d rest, and now you’re here complaining about how you want to leave, but let me tell you that’s not gonna be possible. Your mother and I will still here all night if we have to, but you’re not going anywhere).”

“I can’t afford to not work.”

“Nomas es una noche. Mañana le puedes dar con todo, pero hoy olvídate de la campaña. Deja los trabajadores que se preocupen de eso. Para eso los tienes. (It’s only for one night. Tomorrow you can have at it, but right now it’s important you forget about the campaign. Let the staff worry about it. That’s what you have them for).”

“Tu papa tiene razón. Ellos que atiendan a la campaña. Tu bien sabes que Anne va asegurarse de que todo esté bien. (Your father’s right. Let them deal with the campaign. You know very well that Anne will ensure everything runs smoothly).”

“I know,” said Paulina, softly. “But it’s just . . . I-I’m scared. I can’t help but think that if I don’t get back out there I’ll lose and if that happens it’ll mean that I almost died for nothing, and I refuse to have gone through all this just to come out empty handed.”

“That’s not going to happen.” Raphael assured her.

“But what if it does?” she asked. “I don’t know if I can muster up another campaign. I didn’t even put this one together, not really. Ted secured my senior staff and had funded that political action committee for me. He set aside a million dollars while he was still alive to make sure I’d have a shot, and Ethel spent her last days calling in favors. They’re the reason I’ve gotten this far. Otherwise people would’ve just dismissed me.”

“Bullshit!” Raphael firmly stated. “I’ll admit that you wouldn’t have run for the Senate right away, but your ass would’ve still been in Congress. Or have you forgotten about when the Democratic Leadership approached you?”

She remained quiet, unwilling to answer.

“They wanted to back you in a bid for the House of Reps, and I get that the House isn’t as elite as the Senate but it would’ve still been one hell of a start. So don’t say that you would’ve been dismissed, because that’s a damn lie.” He expected her features to soften, for them to acknowledge the truth in his words, but her brow remained fixed, she had that look on her face that he and his brothers got whenever they refused to change their mind on something. “Es tu orgullo (it’s your pride).”

Had he phrased it as a question, she would’ve protested.

“Our Balcázar pride always pushes us hard. Not that that’s such a terrible thing, it usually works out well for us, it’s the reason we’ve gotten as far as we have, but sometimes . . . sometimes the damn thing is more trouble than its worth. And I know you pride is demanding that you get back out there, I know it’s telling you that you’ll fail if you don’t, but don’t listen to it. Okay? Because staying here is the best thing you can do for yourself and the campaign. Let the others take over for a little while. They’ll handle things. You just need to focus on recovering.” He paused a moment before adding. “So will you do that for me?”

“I . . .” she hesitated a moment. “. . . I’ll do it.”

“Thank you.” He smiled at her. “Now I’m gonna go find a nurse. We need to get you taken care of, chunky butt.” He stood up, but before leaving, he placed an affectionate kiss on her forehead. “Te quiero mucho hermanita (I love you, little sister).”

He left right after. He thought he was going to have to walk all the way down to the nurse’s station to find one, but a few rooms down the hall, a nurse in purple scrubs stepped out. He didn’t know whether or not she was assigned to his sister, but even if she wasn’t, she could tell the appropriate doctor and nurses that Paulina was awake, and sure enough, when he told her that his sister had woken up, she told him to get back to the room and that a nurse would be along shortly.

While Raphael spoke with the nurse, Irmalinda and Ricardo told their daughter about all the calls they’d made and received. It was a long list, and Paulina was glad to hear it, not because it inflated her ego (although it did), but because she liked hearing her parents talk about their relatives and family friends. It normalized the situation, made it feel as though she were sitting on the couch back in Azusa, instead of lying in bed in a hospital. So she attentively listened to her parents, heard about the relatives that had been calling from Mexico and all across the United States, her cousin in Vancouver who had called three times, and her friends who had called to check up on her. Apparently, Rodolfo called her parents and all her brothers, and when Luis picked up, he told him off for not having answered sooner. That almost made her smile, the thought of Rodolfo cursing in Spanish always made her laugh, because he always looked so uncomfortable doing so. To him, Spanish curse words were so much more serious than their English counterparts so he only brought out the Spanish swear words when it was of the upmost seriousness.

As Paulina listened to her parents go on about the various conversations they had, her mind began to wander to Francis. Why hadn’t they mentioned him? Hadn’t he called? Hadn’t he seen the news? He had to have! Unless he was in a meeting, but even if he was, some volunteer or lower ranking staff member would’ve interrupted it to tell everyone what had happened. So there was no excuse for his not calling, there was no excuse for her parents not mentioning him, and needing to know that he was thinking about her, needing to know that he cared, she interrupted her mother midsentence.

“Francis,” she blurted out. “Has he called?”

“Si (yes),” replied Irmalinda, a coy smile on her lips. “Frankie llamo muchas veces. No supimos al principio por que estaban llegando tantas llamados, el pobre muchacho se seguía yendo directo al buzón, pero luego le marco a Luis y con el sí tuvo suerte. (Frankie called many times. We didn’t know at first, we had so many calls coming in so his kept going straight to voicemail, but then he dialed Luis and he was able to get through).”

“Y (and)?” Paulina pressed for more.

“Platico con Luis y tus hermanos y luego platico con nosotros. Quería saber cómo estabas y que dijeron los doctores. (He spoke with Luis and your brothers and then talked to us. He wanted to know how you were and what the doctors had said).”

“What’d you say?”

“Que estabas bien. Eso era todo lo que nos dijo el doctor, entonces nosotros le dijimos eso a Frankie. (That you were okay. That was the doctor had told us, so that’s what we told him.”

“And what did he say about that?” She needed to know. “How did he sound?”

“Como piensas (how do you think)?” It was her father that said that. He knew what was in his daughter’s heart, what was in Francis’. Everyone in the Balcázar and Kennedy families knew. “El muchacho se puso muy contento cuando le dijimos que estabas bien y que no hubo complicaciones (He was overjoyed when we told him that you were okay and that there hadn’t been any complications).”

“Hasta dijo que iba venir a verte (he even said he was going to come visit).” Irmalinda informed her.

“No dijo cuando (did he say when)?” asked Paulina.

“Hoy (today).” Irmalinda couldn’t help but smile as she said that.

“Today?” she repeated. “Do you know what time? Did h-he say?”

“Acaba de llegar, Luis fue por el (he just got here, Luis went to go get him).”

Normally, Paulina would have tried to conceal her feelings, she wouldn’t have done a very good job of it, but she would’ve at least tried, but after nearly losing her life, she wasn’t going to pretend that he was just a friend. She had promised herself that if she made it, she would stop fighting her feelings and embrace them – no matter what might happen.

It was then, just as she found out what was going on, that Francis walked in. His hair was an absolute disaster. He’d been fiddling with it throughout the entire drive, nervously tugging and even accidentally yanking out a few strands. His suit was in a similar state, but his disheveled appearance didn’t matter to her. What mattered was that he was standing in the doorway. His gaze was exclusively focused on her. He didn’t notice her parents sitting at her bedside. He didn’t remember that Luis was standing right behind him. She was the only person in that room. She was the only one his heart would permit his eyes to see, and guided by his love, he moved ever closer, until finally stopping at her bedside.

By that point, the Balcázars had quietly slipped away. They knew they had no business there. Francis and Paulina had to be left alone. So they did just that. They went outside and when they saw the doctor turn the corner, Luis told him to give his sister a few minutes. It was a request that was initially shot down by the doctor, but then Irmalinda took over. Needless to say, after being scolded a bit, the doctor was only too happy to hold off on the examination for ten minutes.

Inside the room, the pair continued to stare at one another in silence. There were tears in Francis’ eyes, not tears of sorrow or pity, but of joy. He was relieved to find her awake. He was humbled by the love in her eyes. As for her, she had been worried that he would look at her differently, that he wouldn’t be interested in her after the attack, but his gaze held more love than they’d ever had before. Nearly losing her made him fully understand how utterly indispensable she was to his wellbeing and happiness. He’d known all along that he loved her, but when faced with the possibility of not having her in his life anymore, he knew that they couldn’t keep going on like they had been. He wasn’t satisfied to just be her friend anymore, knowing that they would one day be together wasn’t enough. He wanted to truly love her in every sense of the word. He wanted to be more than just her confidant and partner in crime. He wanted to be her lover.

“Mi Aurelia (my Aurelia),” he said her name with such tenderness that for the first time since the attack, she smiled. It might not have been as bright as it normally, the left corner of her lips couldn’t hitch upwards, but her smile brightened her eyes, filled them with warmth and that was enough to send his heart racing. “I . . . I thought I’d lost you.”

“Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t.” She told him. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for life.”

“Good.” He stated. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“You say that now, but give it a year and –” she felt like teasing him, like hearing him call her pinche (fucking) Aurelia while he smiled, but she didn’t get the chance to finish.

“I’m not messing around, Aurelia.” He cut her off. “I mean it. I do.”

“Francisco . . .”

“When I heard what happened I didn’t know what to do with myself. I watched him stab you. They had that damn clip playing on loop on MSNBC. I kept seeing when he stabbed you, when you put up a fight and I felt like such a fucking failure because I wasn’t there with you. I mean, what’s the point of me if I can’t keep you safe?” His voice wavered. “I should’ve been there, Aurelia. I shouldn’t have taken the position up north.”

“I asked you to.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he argued. “I shouldn’t have gone up there. I should’ve stayed with you. That’s why I left my job. I wanted to be with you, I wanted to support you, but when you needed me most, I was nowhere to be found.”

“That’s not true.” Her gaze was firmly fixed on him, but his was lowered. There were tears in his eyes, as well a look of guilt, and he didn’t want her seeing him like that. “Francisco, look at me.” He didn’t. “Francisco.” Nothing. “Francis Patrick Kennedy, you damn well better look at me right now.” That did it, his gaze met hers. “Don’t you ever say that again. Do you hear me? You’ve always been there for me, Francisco. Always. And you were there with me today.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is.” She firmly declared. “You’re the reason I wasn’t killed today.”

His brow furrowed in confusion.

“When I was attacked, I didn’t react right away. I-I kind of went into shock. You know? I was just so fucking scared that I couldn’t even do anything. I didn’t even scream or try to push him off or run – I just fucking stood there. I watched as he yanked out the blade and I didn’t do anything, and when I saw my blood on that blade I . . . I didn’t see my life flash before my eyes like people say they do, I didn’t even think about family or friends, I just – I thought of you.” Her voice grew softer and needing to touch him, she reached out for his hand. His palm was sweaty from nerves, but she didn’t mind it. She held on as though she were clinging to life itself. “Do you remember when we kissed at the Super Bowl?”

“How do you remember that? You said you were hungover. When you woke up, you were going on about how you couldn’t remember anything after the game . . .”

“I lied.” She told him. “I was just scared about what would happen if we acknowledged it.”

“Why would you be scared?”

“Because I know you,” she replied. “I’ve seen how you are in relationships and I was just scared that you’d break my heart and that I’d lose you.” She spoke quickly, not giving him a chance to talk. “But then, when I was about to die, I realized I hadn’t been doing myself any favors by acting the way I had – and I know that’s presumptuous of me! I’m presuming to know your heart, but for the sake of what I’m trying to say, please let me be presumptuous. Please let me tell you that I only found the courage to fight because I didn’t want to die without having told you that I love you.”

“You love me?” His eyes lit up.

“I do.” There was a tenderness in her voice that sent his heart fluttering. “I’ve just been stubborn. Not that that should come as a surprise to you. You know how fucking impossible I am sometimes, but I love you. I’ve loved you for a very long time and I’m sorry it took an assassination attempt for me to find the courage to say it. That was fucking selfish of me. I was just so caught up with my feelings that I didn’t even stop to think about yours – and again, I know I’m being presumptuous to think you feel the same way. You haven’t said it, but I –”

“Does it really need saying?”

“No,” she replied. “But I wouldn’t mind hearing it.”

He’d spent years wondering what it’d be like when that moment finally came. He imagined telling her while they were out sailing or possibly during their weekly bike rides or even over dinner at his home outside Boston. Those were the three scenarios that he had prepared for. If while sailing, he would wait until the cooler months so that they could sit huddled together towards the stern and watch the sunset. If while biking, he would pack a light lunch and wait until she finished her mangos to tell her. If over dinner, he would cook her favorite and tell her as she lifted the first forkful to her lips. Those were the situations he had hoped for and while he really wanted it to happen like that, he would’ve been fine with telling her while they made out or while they were out walking Theodora. That would’ve been fine and it would’ve been romantic, even with Thea’s poop bag, but he had never ever thought that he’d tell her he loved her while she was in the hospital recovering from an assassination attempt. That had never crossed his mind, that had never been a possibility, but there they were.

And so with tears in his eyes and a massive smile on his lips, he finally said the words he’d been keeping quiet, “I love you.”

Knowing that kissing was out of the question, he instead knelt beside her bed and lifted her right hand so that it was pressed against his cheek. He let it linger there, simply relishing in the feel of her warm hand against his skin. So many times he had pretended to sleep while she caressed his face, so many nights he had struggled to maintain composure, but now . . . now he could smile, now he could turn his face to kiss her hand and that was exactly what he did. He kissed the palm of her hand over and over again, he kissed it for all the years they had pretended to be just friends and when he pulled away and looked up at her, he was met by a gaze that held such adoration that he knew in his heart that she had been worth the wait.