FALLEN ─ marvel ⁵

IX. The Rosales Family Bakery

Chapter Nine
Jade

"Is it like how you remember it?" Sam asks me, his arm wrapped around mine, his body pressed closely against mine.

We are currently standing in front of my old house. John offered to take over clean up duties for a few days to allow me to come here, and I'm thankful that he did. I thought coming back here would bring back the guilt and self loathing I've fought so hard to get rid of, but it hasn't. For the first time in my life I think I'm truly free from that vicious cycle of pain I had been locked in for so many years. The only person responsible for my parent's deaths is Litvin, not me. I see that now.

It's strange being back here, it feels so familiar and yet so strange. I have so many memories in this house, the first fifteen years of my life were here, the happiest years of my life. I remember doing homework at the kitchen table with my mother, riding bikes down the street with my father, having friends over to taste test my mother's newest pastry idea, having our own mini Carnaval since we couldn't afford to go see the real one. My family celebrated a lot of the traditional Cuban holidays despite not living there to join in on the festivities. For Carnaval, my parents would decorate the house, we would eat Cuban delicacies, laugh and dance until late into the night. We usually celebrated on the last night of Carnaval, we couldn't have partied the whole week the celebration actually takes place.

Holidays were always a fun time in my house. My parents wanted me to be proud of being Cuban and Danish, so they went all out for both culture's holidays. We'd bake a cake on José Martí's birthday, we would watch documentaries about Castro and bake cookies on National Revolution Day, we did something similar on Constitution Day, and we always had a big bonfire in the backyard for the midsummer festival of Saint Hans. For that festival, we not only burned decorative witches, we dressed up as witches as well. We thought it would be more fun and it was. I have such vivid memories of these celebrations with my parents, but the walls of the house don't share those memories anymore. They were destroyed when I blew up half the house.

The house is a little different than I remember because of that unfortunate event. When I exploded the house, only part of it was destroyed: the kitchen and the living room. That part of the house has been rebuilt, so the paint looks a bit fresher, but other than that the house looks the same, eerily so. I nod to my boyfriend, telling him as much: "It does. You see that dent in the garage door? I made that when I was ten, my father was teaching me how to ride a bike and I rammed right into it. I'm shocked they haven't fixed that."

"Did you like riding bikes as a kid?"

"Loved it. I loved being outside, if I wasn't baking, that's where I was. I would ride my bike, climb the trees in my backyard, or just lay down in the grass and watch the clouds. I think of the outdoors even more after HYDRA, I was never allowed outside. It just added onto my misery there."

Sam glances back and forth between me and the house, asking concernedly: "How are you feeling?"

I squeeze his hand, my eyes growing misty as I honestly reply: "I'm okay. I really needed this, I needed to see the house. I think now that I've accepted that their death wasn't my fault, I can finally mourn them properly. You would have loved them, they were such great people. I hate that you never got to meet them."

"I'm sure I would have."

I let go of Sam's hand to wipe at my eyes, and while I do so, an idea pops into my head, propelling me to ask: "Can we go to my family's bakery? I'm sure it's something else by now, but I'd still like to see it."

"Of course, honey, anything you want. I'd love to see it, even if it's a laundry mat or a McDonalds."

I shake my head, letting out a chuckle followed by a sniffle. "Don't even joke about it becoming a McDonalds."