Memories of a Life That Never Happened

Chapter 42 - Tainted Love

On Sunday, three days after Mica's almost-deposition, she woke up to the sound of Venetian shutters against her window. She looked over to the bed next to hers where, despite the racket, Julian was sound asleep. Faint shafts pierced through the blinds and Mica figured it was still the small hours of the morning. 

Rubbing her eyes, she pulled a sweater over her nightshirt and wiggled her toes onto a pair of flip-flops. Then she sneaked out of the room and eased the door shut.  

Jacira coughed inside her bedroom and the clatter of dishes rose from the kitchen, telling Mica that Escobar was making breakfast. Kind and thoughtful as the gesture was, it was not a good sign. On weekends, Jacira and Escobar invariably made breakfast together. If her mom was still in bed, it could only mean that her illness was striking again.  

Downstairs, the heartwarming smell of fresh coffee wafted throughout the floor. Mica found Escobar sitting with a large cup of the brew between his hands, elbows spread apart over the table. He was staring into the steaming dark liquid with such intent that the coffee could very well be rendering him some precious advice.  

Mica noticed her stepfather was all dressed up, which was unusual for Sundays. 

"Morning," she said and Escobar jolted.  

"Good morning, Mica." A faint smile crossed his lips. "How did you sleep?" 

Mica took a place across from him. "Like a rock," she answered while pouring herself a cup of coffee.  

Big dark circles under Escobar's eyes told her he had not slept at all. 

"Good." 

Mica grabbed a baguette and spread some butter on it.  

"Going somewhere?"  

"Father Thomas asked me to have a look at the cloister's back wall. It is leaking.  

"Can I come with?" she asked excitedly. With a bit of luck, Theo would be in town and she would bump into him. He had not showed up at the restaurant after what happened there the previous Wednesday. 

Escobar drained the rest of his brew.  

"I was hoping you would stay with Mom, cariño. She had a rough night and she is not feeling too well." Escobar smacked his lips. "Could you take care of her and Julian for me?" 

"Of course. Sure I will," she said before sinking her teeth into the bread. That was a bit of a downer, but family came first.  

Escobar stood up and reached over the table to pinch her cheek. 

"Gracias." 

A few minutes later, from the doorway, Mica watched her stepfather walking down the ash-tinged street until his figure became too faint to discern. She lifted her eyes to the gloomy sky. It seemed that rain would be pouring down soon. Although it was neither windy nor cold, Mica rubbed her arms and stepped back into the house.  

Back in the kitchen, she started putting together her mother's breakfast. She cut a baguette in half, spread it with butter and squashed it on a fry pan until the crumb was warm and soft and the crust was crispy and golden. She set it aside on a small plate. Then she got Jacira's mug from the dish drainer and filled it up to half with warm milk and a drop of coffee. Then Mica arranged it all on a straw tray Jacira had woven herself.  

Upstairs, the coughing intensified as Mica walked toward her mother's bedroom. She pushed the handle down with her elbow and butted the door open.  

Jacira was sitting in bed, covering her mouth with a handkerchief. 

"Are you ok?" Mica asked softly. "I brought you some breakfast."