Remission by Ofelia Martinez

Chapter 22

Home

On the flight back home from the lecture in California, I didn’t sleep as I usually did whenever I was in the air. I couldn’t find a comfortable position, and I was left with all that time to think about the encounter with Hector—to think about our past.

I thought about that last week before he left seven years ago. Over the years, I had replayed over and over in my head every last thing he’d said. I pieced together conversations from memory, parsing them for clues as to why he had betrayed me. I did that for years, always coming up empty.

It didn’t make sense. The self he presented to me seemed so genuine, it had been inconceivable to believe it was all an act. But as the weeks passed, then the months, and finally the years, without a word from him—I had to admit he had been simply that good. A master snake in the grass, and a fucking fantastic actor who had me believing that he actually gave a shit.

What followed in the wake of my destruction was devastating, and he didn’t have to deal with it—I did. The humiliation had been somewhat internal. The majority of the hospital wasn’t that involved, but those in the oncology department, as well as any of the physicians who knew me personally, all knew what happened.

It wasn’t long before the vipers got to work with the gossip. As far as the oncology department was concerned, I was a slut trying to sleep myself to the top. Dr. Medina came out great in that version of the story. He wasn’t having any of it and decided to leave after publishing his trial in order to get as far away from me as possible.

The worst part of it all was that I was credited with the reason for Heartland Metro losing a rockstar physician. It was a long time, many years, before I regained the trust of my colleagues.

I was lucky that I had enough people in my corner, people who knew my character well. If it weren’t for them, I’m not sure I could have stayed at Heartland.

Then, there was Keach and his small group of friends who rarely let me forget what had happened.

It was a pleasure when, four years after the trial was published, Dr. Keach lost a hefty malpractice suit that resulted in the loss of his medical license. The only thing that could have made that moment better was if the demise of his career hadn’t come at the cost of his patients’ care.

The hospital was forced to take a side publicly. Not wanting negative publicity, Heartland Metro distanced itself from the Keach name and declined ongoing lucrative support from the family. The day the maternity ward took down the Keach name from its front door sign was one of the best days of my life. Dr. Keach was gone, and he wasn’t leaving his last name behind to haunt me in the hospital hallways.

I had been gonea week on a small book tour prior to my lecture, so I wasn’t surprised that Sara was over for dinner to welcome my return. On any other day, I would have been happy to see her, but now that I had grim news to share, I wasn’t so sure I wanted her to be there to witness Dad blow a gasket.

How could I go into my father’s home and tell him the ghost of one of the darkest periods in my life was back? He would find out sooner or later. I kept nothing from him.

The house smelled like heaven, but I didn’t recognize the aroma as one from Dad’s repertoire of recipes.

“Mmm,” I moaned. “What did you make, Papi?”

“Mija!” He turned to me, apron still wrapped around his waist, and hugged me. “Mole,” he said. “Are you hungry? I tried to make Sara wait for you, but I couldn’t stop the comelona of your friend from digging in.” Dad pointed at her with the tongs in his hand.

“Hi, Caro,” Sara said between bites of what I was sure was her second helping.

“You know how to make mole?” I asked Dad.

“I wish,” Dad said. “Mole is a full-day affair unless you buy the pre-made stuff, which is really just sad. I got this from one of Sofia’s friends.”

“Who?” I asked. I thought I knew all of her friends, but I didn’t think she knew anyone who knew how to make this.

“Ileana. She works at the bar a few days a month.”

I thought back and remembered seeing her a few times over the years. Ileana was warm and friendly, and her smile radiated like the sun. It was hard not to feel lighter when you were around her—and this coming from someone who hardly knew her.

“How’d you get mole from her?” I asked.

“She doesn’t work full time, and mainly works odd jobs. I went to La Oficina last Tuesday, and I got to talking to her.” Leave it to Dad to make friends with a bartender. “When she mentioned she likes to cook, and I realized she lives pretty close by, I offered to pay her to share a few of her meals with me every week. She agreed to make extra for tonight, for your welcome home dinner. I didn’t think she’d make mole when I told her it was a special occasion.”

It warmed me to think of this woman I hardly knew spending two days making mole for my homecoming. I had only been gone a week, so I felt more than special to this stranger. I’d have to thank her when I saw her next.

It wouldn’t have been polite to ruin such a perfect dinner with bad news. It could wait until we had finished our meal. My mouth watered when Dad lifted the lid to the pot of chicken smothered in brown sauce. I hadn’t had a good mole in years. I served myself rice and a healthy helping of the chicken. Dad followed suit, and we both joined Sara at the table, though she was nearly done with her current helping.

“What even is mole?” Sara asked as she licked her fingers.

“It’s a special dish. I think Puebla is the place to go for mole.”

“But what’s in it? This sauce is delicious.”

“Dad, you wanna take this one?”

“Let’s see,” Dad said and started checking off fingers. “It has four different kinds of dried chilies that are lightly fried, and tomatoes.” Sara nodded, and he continued listing ingredients. “Fried peanuts. Fried raisins. Toasted bread crumbs, Toasted sesame seeds—”

“Raisins? Bread? In a sauce?” Sara asked as she placed a hand on her stomach. Her face twisted a little, and I urged Dad to go on.

“Yes. It also has lard, cinnamon, sugar, a bunch of spices,” when he said lard and cinnamon, Sara’s hand went to cover her mouth. “What else am I missing? Oh, if the cook is really good and it’s traditional mole, they always burn a tortilla and put the blackened tortilla in the sauce. It’s what gives it its color. They also use chicken broth.”

“Dad,” I said with my eyes on Sara, “you are missing the most important ingredient.”

“What?” He looked up at me and scratched his head, thinking. “Oh. Yes! How did I forget the main ingredient? Chocolate!”

Dad’s smile was triumphant, and Sara’s cheeks filled with air like a blowfish. She ran to the bathroom, and we clearly heard her yell through the door. “Chocolate?”

I burst into laughter, and Dad glared at me. “You did that on purpose,” he said.

“I couldn’t help it. Most people who don’t know what mole is love it when they try it but can’t handle knowing it’s chicken in chocolate sauce.”

“That wasn’t very nice.”

“Consider it payback for when I wasn’t warned baked beans were sweet, and I spat them out in the school cafeteria.”

Sara glared at me when she joined us back at the table. “You didn’t have to ruin it for me,” she hissed.

“I’m sorry. It was too tempting.”

We all burst out laughing then, and I hated to bring down the levity of our dinner. We were all so busy, it was hard to get together like this, but I knew they wouldn’t forgive me if I met Hector the next day and didn’t tell them about it.

“What’s wrong?” asked my perceptive father.

“I have something to tell you.”

Both Sara and Dad grew quiet and focused on me. I swallowed. “I saw Hector in California.”

Sara’s jaw dropped.

“How could you do this?” Dad asked. “After everything he did to you—”

“Dad, I didn’t do anything. He showed up at my lecture. I had no idea he was there until the end when he asked a question.”

He seemed to relax a little when I said that. I winced as I went on. “He wants to see me tomorrow.”

“No, Carolina,” he said. “I forbid it.”

“I think I’m going to go home now,” Sara said. She never liked upsetting my dad. “I’ll talk with you later, Caro.”

“Yeah. Talk later.”

Chicken, I thought.

I started loading the dishwasher as I listened to Dad go on.

“You can’t seriously be considering seeing him.”

“I am, Dad. I need some answers—”

“After everything—how could you? You broke my heart. It was so bad, Carolina, it’s like you weren’t there, but I was. You were devastated.”

I swallowed hard. I knew I’d put Dad through a lot when Hector first departed. The chief had granted me a week off work until things settled down a bit at the hospital. I hadn’t cried. It was like I had no feelings, a complete void of any emotion, a perpetual state of being in darkness.

After that, it didn’t get much better. I finally snapped out of it enough to get back to work, but then I threw myself into work in an unhealthy way. I became a robot. I’d been hellbent on recuperating my reputation and outdoing my first trial.

In all that, I left Dad to worry. He must have felt so helpless, seeing me go through a depression like that, and then been completely shut out from my life so quickly after.

“I know it was hard, Dad. But it’s different now.”

“How is it different?”

“I’m different now. More experienced. And I have the advantage of knowing what he really is now. I’m not starstruck. I’m the star now.”

He smiled weakly. “You are, pero mija, I don’t understand why you would even entertain the idea of talking to him.”

“To be honest, I don’t really understand it myself. He said he had a lot to say to me. I guess part of me still wants an explanation, or at the very least an apology, for what he did.”

The dishes loaded and the kitchen clean, I turned to look at him. He cocked his head to the side, and his eyes narrowed. “Are you sure that’s all it is?” he asked. “Curiosity and a desire for vindication?”

“Yes, Dad. I promise I’ll be really careful.”

“Tell him to be careful. I better not lay eyes on him.”

I chuckled. “I’ll warn him, Dad.”

In the morning,I was awakened by a call from Sara.

“Does your husband know you are calling me at all hours of the morning?” I groaned into the phone.

“My husband is sound asleep upstairs. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” I said.

“So I know your dad already laid it on thick, which is why I decided to leave, but, Caro, you can’t be serious.”

“You too?”

“Yes, me too.”

The truth was, I wasn’t sure what I was feeling. Something about Hector made me want to trust him all over again. I couldn’t quite put a finger on it. I knew I couldn’t be so stupid as to fall for the same trick twice, but there had been something in his eyes. It didn’t seem like threat.

“Look,” Sara said when I didn’t answer again. “I think, when you saw him, you probably stopped thinking straight. I wanted to talk with you before you saw him.”

“Okay,” I said, sitting up in my bed to fully wake up for this conversation. “Shoot.”

“Think clearly, Carolina. Do you remember everything he did?”

“Of course I remember. It was seven years ago, but it is definitely fresh in my mind. I didn’t get over it quickly.”

“Good. But just in case, let me remind you. First, he tried to seduce you when he was married. Next, he let the entire hospital speak about you without defending you once. And for his grand pièce de résistance, he stole your trial. A trial you had been working on for years. As if that weren’t enough, he took the credit for your trial. He left town, leaving you to deal with the fallout, and Carolina, the rumors, they almost destroyed your career.”

While she finished her rant, I rubbed my temple. She was giving me a headache. “Trust me,” I said. “I haven’t forgotten any of it. Dad already covered this last night but thank you for worrying about me.”

“You are still seeing him, aren’t you?”

“I have to. I can’t explain it, but I have to. I need answers.”

Sara let out a sigh of resignation. “Fine, but please be careful.”

“I will. Promise.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I had to give it to my family. They had really reminded me of my hatred for Hector Medina. My blood was nearly scorching by the time I started to get ready to go see him. He was going to have to hear me out too.