Until We Meet Again

22. the truth

"We're complete opposites."

She looks at me as I say that, and she almost seems offended by it. Like I've said something so insanely wrong. She pauses for a bit, taking deep breaths as she prepares for her comeback.

But there isn't one, instead she tells me, ""I will never forget the day when all those years ago, my parents informed me that their homemade business had become a hit and we would be moving to that town. We somehow went from rags to riches, and for any Latino immigrant, that seemed to be the dream."

Sounds like an introduction to some kind of downfall.

"And?" I ask her expectantly.

"Do you not realize what I'm saying?" She questions me.

"That you're lucky?"

"My parents work very hard," she snaps.

"Mine do too. The difference between our parents is luck."

"Completely different fields and industries. Don't compare them."

My parents work at a grocery store while hers have their own clothing business. When my parents decided to take the step from renting our apartment to buying out our landlord and purchasing our apartment, things got even harder for us. Payments are insane. Delilah's parents have never had to worry about money ever since their business got successful.

If my parents had gotten the privilege to invest in an idea they had, I might be in Delilah's place. But life doesn't work out that way, mainly because of luck. My parents have worked every single day of their life, and Delilah's acting like her parents are so strong for having a set of employees that do everything for them. Everything from store employees to housekeepers are always around for them.

But, I guess like Delilah said, it's all 'different fields and industries.'

"I knew you wouldn't understand," Delilah adds when she realizes I'm not going to respond to that statement.

"What is there to understand?"

She's only setting herself up for a complete misunderstanding here.

"Priscilla, we lost everything."

I don't think I've heard correctly what has just come out of her mouth.

"You're joking, right?"

She finally moves closer to me, and holds my hand ever so delicately like a child as she says, "my family was broke."

"Was? So, you're rich again? How come I never heard any news about this online? What happened to the business? I thought it was still around."

"Publicists are great at making things go away in the public eye. It's probably another store with the same name, our old business doesn't exist anymore so people can take advantage of our past popularity. My parents gave up the business after they were sued for allegedly copying designs."

"And did they? Steal the designs?"

"No!"

"Well, if you were broke then it means the other party won. And it means it's true."

She scoffs before saying, "they just wanted money. My parents would never do that."

"You have a great attitude about your parents. And what are they doing now? Since you're rich again apparently? How long did the lack of money last? A month? A week?"

I know I'm being rude but come on, is she even being serious?

"You're being ridiculous," she tells me angrily. "To answer your question though, we lived in a small apartment around here for a year before a family friend finally gave them a chance to re-establish everything they've worked for. I couldn't contact you because I didn't have a phone."