Ranger's conversation with Abuela at Maïte after seeing Steph for the first time - TLR Chpt 54

"¿Carlos, estás bien?" Abuela asked me. [Carlos, are you okay?]

"What?" I asked, taking my eyes off of Steph for the first time since we sat down thirty minutes ago.

"¿Estás bien?" she asked again. [Are you okay?]

"Yeah, yeah, sure. I'm fine." I wasn't exactly fine. I had minimal awareness of my surroundings and that was a bad sign. I couldn't stop my eyes from drifting back to my Babe. On a date. Moving on. Just like I told and want her to do. I guess I just never thought I'd have to actually see her move on. Or see her have a hickey from another man.

That hickey made me sick to my stomach and fed my jealousy. I didn't want another man's hands or lips on her body. My male instincts made me want to beat Bryce into submission and drag Stephanie back home to my bed, but I had no right. I couldn't and wouldn't listen to my caveman instincts. So instead I remained polite. I even asked Bryce to watch her back.

"Carlos, you're talking to me. I raised you since you were fourteen. I know when you're lying. No me digas mentiras." [Don't lie to me.]

"I'm...living with my mistakes."

"That doesn't make it any easier or lessen the pain."

I sighed and picked Julie up for a bit of a distraction. She giggled as she pressed her chubby hands into my cheeks. "You're right. It doesn't, but Steph's doing what I asked her to do. She's moving on. And, if I have any chance of being with her in the future, she needs to do that. I just didn't think...I didn't think that I'd see her for the first time in months when she's out on a date."

"I'm sorry you're hurting," Abuela sighed.

"I'm getting what I deserve."

"You made some bad decisions, but don't you think it's time you take your own advice? It's time you stop your self-flagellation. You deserve to be happy, too."

"No, Abuela, I don't."

For the first time in my life, I did exactly what my parents would have told me to do. I married the girl I got pregnant because she was my responsibility. And having a bastard child was not acceptable in my family.

"Marco, you got that girl pregnant! No more screwing up. It's no longer about you. It's about your child and the mother of your child," Papá told my older brother. "I can't believe you did this. How many times did we tell you? No sex before marriage!"

My brother said nothing. He sat there, staring at a spot just over Papá's shoulder so he appeared like he was being respectful and making eye-contact. Most likely, Marco was too scared to make eye-contact. Papá had the ability to make a person feel as small and dirty as a cockroach when he was upset with somebody. But today the air crackled with his fury towards Marco.

"I can't believe you were so stupid? Why would you do this?" Papá didn't yell. He was far too controlled for that, but the bite in his tone was enough that even I flinched.

"I made a mistake. I'm sorry," Marco said. He looked down at the floor, shoulders slumped, his face a mask of contrition.

Mami didn't say anything, but I knew she was disappointed with him. Her plan for her oldest child was now shot to hell. She had been telling all of us since we were little that we were going to go to college and we'd help each other pay our way. She wanted better lives for her children and believed that going to college was the best path for that. Being a teenage father would make it near impossible for him to go to college and support his family.

"You will marry that girl this coming weekend and she will come live with us. While you finish your last few months of high school we will support you both. Upon graduation you will find a job so that you can help support your family. We won't charge you for rent or utilities because you need to save money so you can buy a house, but you'll have to contribute towards the cost of food," my father dictated.

"But Papá, I'm only eighteen! I'm not ready to get married," Marco protested.

"Then you shouldn't have been having sex! That's only meant for husbands and wives."

"Everyone's doing it though!" Marco argued, he straightened his back and his shoulders went back in anger.

Even I knew not to say that and I was only ten years old.

"Well, then if that's how you think, tell me then: If everyone else jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge, would you jump with them, too?" Papá ran his fingers through his hair in aggravation.

"No, of course not!"

"Then why the hell would you have sex when you're not ready for the consequences?"

My brother said nothing. His shoulders slumped again.

"Now call this girl and invite her and her family over for coffee so we can make the necessary arrangements to make everything right. I will not have any bastard children in this family." He turned on his heel and stalked out of the house, slamming the door.

I have no idea why I chose to do exactly what my parents would have told me to do in this situation and not in any others. Maybe it was because, even though my parents and I would never see eye to eye or most likely reconcile, I felt that they always tried to do right by their family. They have always had strong morals and they tried to teach us that family comes first. I agree that family should come first and a helpless baby needs more love and protection than anyone else.

I shouldn't have listened to what they told Marco, but I was so shocked to be in this predicament that I think I just accepted that it was the right thing to do. I should have realized that I don't have the same black and white view of what's right and wrong that my parents have. I don't see black and white. I see a thousand varying shades of grey.

"Carlos, yes, you do deserve to be happy. You made two disastrous decisions and you've paid the price. It's time to forgive yourself."

Abuela and I believe in forgiveness, which my parents preach, but they have never actually put into practice. Hence the reason why we still aren't on speaking terms. Maybe I should follow my own advice to Babe. I should move past what I did to her, to myself.

Maybe it was time to forgive myself.