Chapter 21: Recapitulation

Roberto returned to 1907 Pardee Avenue. “Still green,” he observed, dourly. Inside, he sagged into a chair at the dinette table, downcast. Alondra joined him,

“You’re back early. Oh. It was that bad?”

The defeated look on his face broke her heart. She took his hand, “Tell me everything.”

“Mom. It started so well. I was on time; you saw how Eric helped me look nice. We sat and ate this fantastic chicken dish from Italy she cooked. Like at the laundromat, we were having a light and fun conversation. Instead of bringing wine, I had agreed to bring a toy for Carrie—she is four. I brought her an age-appropriate Lego set which she loved.”

“But then Sophie noticed it had 142 little plastic pieces, and she was obviously worried they would get all over her house and kill her feet. Sophie sent me the ‘you’re a dumbass’ mom stare. But then Sophie did the greatest thing, she talked to Carrie like an adult.”

“They made a little contract: Carrie would keep the set in her room only, if pieces got out the set would be taken away. The greatest thing, it wasn’t ‘I’m the boss, you obey.’ She got Carrie to agree, it was a fair rule, to protect Mama’s feet. Carrie went away content.”

“I was just dazzled; how many young children think their mamas are fair?”

Roberto gave his mother a weak smile.

“I already recognized she was very smart. Add the cooking, the mothering, her looks, the fun, the whole package. I was intimidated. I felt bad about the toy box, and I tried to apologize. At the same time, I was just spiraling inside.”

“It hit me hard. I was a miserable fool for fantasizing I might someday be exceptional Sophie’s partner and stepdad to that amazing child. And that I had wrongly suspected her of having manipulative intentions, when it was painfully obvious that she was doing just fine on her own as a single mother.”

“You know how I speak; with all the reading I have done in my life I sound like I have a college education. I had to come clean, I felt, and confess the truth. You know, I live with my parents, I don’t have a job, I’m only 18, and I just graduated high school. I told her these things, I was ashamed, and I stood up to leave.”

“Mom, she knocked me down, back into the sofa. And started yelling. It brought Carrie out from her room, terrified. After reassuring her daughter and sending her back, then it was rage. Everything was great. She liked me. And then, my confessions. ‘Why is this a problem?’ she asked. I was accused of suddenly having the ‘S.S. Titanic of Self-Pity Parties.’”

“Sophie was insulted that I would ignore her feelings and take myself away from her (and Carrie) out of some weird inexplicable self-hatred. Of course, she knew nothing about the inappropriate ‘needing to be rescued’ scenario, and how I was beating myself up about it.”

“She lectured me for an hour, it felt like. I’m under strict orders. We’re going for lunch Saturday. In a restaurant. Perhaps she believes I can’t be Drama King in public. I guess we’re starting over, without the self-abuse. Oh, stop, you know what I mean.”

“Inexplicably, Sophie still wants to date me, Mom. I still can’t imagine why. Except ... she did say I was good-looking.”

“You are good-looking, my foolish son. You’re a younger version of my Diego. And you know how women flirt with him.”

“Look, we were wrong to freight all those expectations on you and Sophie. My situation with Pedro years ago has nothing to do with Sophie and Carrie today.”

“It was only our first date.”

“I know you feel bad, Roberto. Tonight didn’t go well. But you have a second chance. And when you see her again, you’re going to be confident. Smart. Lovable. Thoughtful. Funny. Affectionate. Sexy. Just like my husband.”

“And, since you’re 18 and full of spunk, you’re going to be doing a lot of coming tonight. Consider it a morale booster. Go wash up and get in our bed.”