Ramon had seen it before I had.
A mother’s love had put blindfolds on me.
A husband’s love, from beyond the grave, took them off.
The next morning, my children entered the room with the faces of people at an administrative funeral.
Monica spoke first.
“Mom, we’ve talked. It’s best that when you get out, you stay with me for a few days.”
“No.”
Arthur sighed.
“You aren’t in a state to live alone.”
“I’ve lived alone since your father died. What I’m not in a state to do is live surrounded by vultures.”
Julian was offended.
“Mom, that’s an ugly thing to say.”
“Ugly was leaving me in pain for months and calling me crazy.”
Monica pressed her lips together.
“You were saying you were going to have a baby.”
“And you wanted to use that to take my house.”
No one breathed.
Adriana entered at that moment with a doctor and a hospital attorney.
“Mrs. Monica,” she said, “we have a copy of a notarized application to grant you broad power of attorney over your mother’s assets, accompanied by a statement where you affirm that Mrs. Morales suffers from persistent delusions.”
Monica turned pale.
Arthur stepped back.
“I didn’t know she had filed that.”
I looked at him.
“But you knew the papers existed.”
He lowered his head.
Julian sat down, as if his body suddenly felt heavy.
“Mom, I only signed as a witness. Monica said it was to take care of you.”
I laughed.
A bitter laugh.
“You were always good at obeying when it suited you.”
Monica regained her voice.
“We wanted to sell that house because it’s old! You don’t understand. You’re going to die there, alone, among saints and potted plants.”
The room went silent.
