Page 86 of The Fall
I waited for a reply and got it several hours later when the doorbell rang. My heart soared as I opened it to find Dean gripping his mom tightly to him. She was clearly having a hard time being there, and I instantly felt guilty.
I ushered them inside, and once we got her seated with a glass of wine, I took him aside. “I don’t want her to feel this way. You didn’t have to do this.”
He leaned into me with concern evident in his voice. “I really wanted to come. I mean, she’s here. What if it’s one of the last times she’s able to—”
Loud laughter echoed from the family room as we both stood there. His mom was hysterical as we both turned the corner to find Rose speaking fluent Spanish and waving her arms, completely animated.
“What is she saying?” I asked Dean.
“She’s telling her about her favorite soap opera. Apparently, Rose watches Telemundo.”
“You’re shitting me,” I gaped as Dayana tilted her head back and let out another full belly laugh at another of Rose’s antics. “Well, looks like you chose the wrong sister,” I said apologetically to Dean.
He wrapped his arms around me. “Nunca tuve otra opción.”
“Why do you do that knowing I have no idea what you’re saying?”
“Because I know it drives you crazy,” he answered without apology. Suddenly my dad jumped in, speaking Dayana’s native tongue, followed by Grant. I felt like I’d just been transported into the Twilight Zone.
“Okay, you too?” I questioned Grant. “Seriously?”
Grant shrugged apologetically, and I waved them all off.
Dinner was blissful and, at the same time, uneventful. The turkey was a little dry, but we all gave a round of applause for effort. Dayana looked around at us with a peaceful smile but faded quickly after dinner, insisting Dean take her home. She asked for Papa repeatedly, and I noticed that when Dean gave her an excuse for his absence, she was fully aware he was lying and completely lucid. The recollection that he was gone was painful. Though their visit was short, it was more than Dean and I could have hoped for, and I waved them goodbye, saddened by the loss. Dean leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips, fire in his eyes, letting me know he would do much more under different circumstances. I took his kiss and returned it without worrying for once what the repercussions would be. I looked on as he helped her in the car and pressed two fingers to his mouth, then held them up to me.
“Un rayo te golpeó hace mucho tiempo, mi ángel,” my dad said behind me. I turned to him, clearly flustered, until my mom stepped in and translated.
“Lightning struck you a long time ago,” she said, giving my dad a knowing smirk.
“Okay, apparently, I was absent the days the Whitakers took Spanish,” I mumbled, pushing past them to finish the dishes.
That night in bed, Dean texted me things I would never in a million years have recalled, and I replied to him with different memories. The saying that the people closest to you help you remember who you were rang true—now more than ever. His memories kept me alive to him, and mine kept him alive to me. Although our fondest ones were the same and remained the staples in our lives with or without each other—the smaller, more detailed memories reminded us both that once upon a time, though we were young and sometimes ridiculous, we were beautiful. I looked at the clock and a sleeping Rose next to me and decided to ask Dean for more than what he remembered.
DALLAS: I’m ready to ask my questions.
DEAN: Okay.
DALLAS: Don’t lie.
DEAN: I promise.
DALLAS: Did you ever think about coming back?
DEAN: All the time.
DALLAS: Why didn’t you?
DEAN: The longer I took to get back, the further away I felt, and the more I stayed away, the less I felt I had a right to come back. I was involved with Helena and determined to finish school. I eventually gave up on the thought that you would take me back.
DALLAS: Why?
DEAN: Rose told me you were in love.
DALLAS: Were you…in love?
Of course, he was in love, idiot. He was going to marry her.
DEAN: The part of me that thought I belonged there thought I was.