Cholo

(28) Veintiocho

The next day I woke up to an empty bed and a silent Mateo. I snuggled into my pillow . It was peaceful and quiet, pulling the covers to my chin. Esto es muy agreeable [this is so nice]. The cool fabric was comforting and the silence was welcoming. The drowsiness I felt welcomed sleep, until one thought conquered all. 

Eyebrows furrowing and lips dropping into a frown, I wondered to myself: Why is it so silent?  

My eyes snapped open. I jolted from bed as if electrified, and rushed towards Mateo's room. The crib was messy and empty. Aggressively, I brushed a hand through my hair. 

No. No. No.

Palms sweating, I ran downstairs. My barefoot pattered against the cool wooden floor. I was breathing harshly as thoughts swirled in my mind and my heart pounded against my chest. I felt anxious and at loss. I skipped the last step of the stairs, and stood there starring at the front door. There was a pair of man shoes thrown carelessly at the floor, I felt relief coarse through my body. 

A smile stretched across my face at the smell of coffee wafting by. I turned on my heels and headed towards the kitchen. I rubbed my palms onto my shirt and attempted to tame my disheveled appearance. Ever since I became I mom, I became jumpy and anxious all the time. The second I don't hear his voice cooing, or crying, I end up hovering over his crib. And if he was asleep, I would sternly watch his chest raise and fall to verify that he is alive. Mad, I know. Jada teased me about it endlessly, while my abuela and grandma laughed at my panicked persona. They both explained that it was normal - and to my horror would never go away. 

"Morning." I grumbled. 

Oscar's eyes traveled up and down my body, before smirking. "You jumped out of bed looking for him, huh?" 

As I poured coffee into my mug, I glanced up to meet his eyes and stuck out my tongue. His laughter caused Mateo to coo happily. 

"Like father, like son." I mumbled teasingly. 

I took a sip as I watched Oscar dot over Mateo. Placing the cup onto the island's surface, and clearing my throat. "We should probably talk about last night, mi corazón [my heart]." 

His shoulders tensed and jaw clenched. I sighed. 

"Vato [dude], you can't go around sulking all day for what Cesar did."  He plopped onto the kitchen stool, eyes averting mine and stubbornly glaring at the kettle. I smiled, he looks like a child sulking in the sad corner. 

When he didn't speak, I continued. "You were like Cesar once. And sure, you got hurt but that's growing up." I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. "You can't protect him from that." I whispered into his ear. 

His hand stroked mine. 

"He has the right to know his dad, even if we hate it." 

He didn't utter a word,but nodded his head in agreement. Before any of us could speak again, the front door slammed shut and Jada screeched.

 "Put on some pants, I'm coming in!" 

Oscar chuckled. It felt so genuine, so nice to have him relax. Trust Jada to make a cholo laugh at the slightest thing she say. A smile stretched my lip. I could see us like this everyday. No gangs, no violence, no guns; safe and secure. A happy family. Far away from this neighborhood, maybe even in Paris - where Oscar can enroll into culinary school, and I could wonder the museums. Mateo will wear one of those cute little beret hats. I sighed at our reflection. 

If only...

We could hear Jada's heavy footsteps approaching as she maffled to herself in coherently. His head titled to the side and ever so lightly, he whispered: "He's going to get himself hurt."