Still in his sales director’s suit, his expression thunderous, he barely acknowledged Victoria before turning to Carmen. Where’s Luna? He demanded. I got a call from the school.
Carmen felt a headache building behind her eyes. She’s in her room. There was an incident with another student.
It’s been handled. Derek’s face reddened. Handled.
This is the third time this month, Carmen. If you can’t control her, perhaps I should go. Victoria interjected smoothly, clearly uncomfortable witnessing this domestic discord.
She gathered her designer purse and slipped past Derek with a murmured, good to see you. Once Victoria had left, Derek lowered his voice, aware the twins might hear. This is exactly what I was talking about in our last custody discussion.
Your living situation. Your work hours. The girls need stability.
Carmen felt her patience snap. What they need is a father who pays his child support on time and doesn’t cancel weekends when his new wife makes other plans. Derek’s jaw tightened.
Stephanie and I have a lot of social obligations. And if you’d accepted the promotion they offered you at the insurance office instead of quitting, I quit because they expected me to work 60 hour weeks for barely more than I make now. With no flexibility for the girl’s schedules, Carmen cut him off.
Derek had never understood why she couldn’t just make it work the way other divorced mothers did. He conveniently forgot that those women often had family support, reliable co-parents, or exes who actually paid their court ordered child support. Derek glanced at his watch.
I have a dinner meeting. Tell Luna I expect better behavior. And Carmen, he added, his voice dripping with condescension.
Try to get it together. For the girl’s sake. After he left, Carmen leaned against the closed door.
She should be getting ready for her evening shift, not dealing with family drama. But Bill’s waited for no one, especially single mothers with twins and unreliable child support. The bedroom door cracked open and me appeared out.
Is dad gone? Carmen nodded, attempting a smile. He had a meeting. Come on out both of you.
I need to make you dinner before I go back to work. As she pulled pasta from the cupboard, Luna emerged, her expression stormy. I heard him.
He thinks we should live with him and Stephanie. He didn’t say that, Carmen replied. He doesn’t even want us there, Mia said quietly.
Stephanie calls us the baggage when she thinks we can’t hear. Carmen paused in filling the pot with water. She what? Luna nodded.
Last time we stayed over, she told her friend on the phone that she was stuck with the baggage for the weekend. That’s why I don’t want to go there anymore. This was new information, and it made her blood boil, but she forced herself to remain calm.
I’ll talk to your father about it. No, both girls said in unison. He’ll just deny it, Mia explained, and then Stephanie will be even worse next time.
Carmen looked at her daughters, these perceptive, resilient girls who were navigating a world much more complicated than any 12-year-old should have to face. They’d lost their grandfather, endured their parents’ divorce, and now dealt with school bullies and a stepmother who resented their very existence. What would you like me to do? She asked them.
The twins exchanged a look, having one of those silent conversations that never ceased to amaze Carmen. Nothing, Luna said finally. We can handle Stephanie.
Just don’t make us go there more than we have to, Carmen nodded slowly. Okay, but promise you’ll tell me if things get worse. As she cooked dinner, a simple pasta with sauce from a jar, nothing like the elaborate meals her father used to prepare, Carmen’s mind returned to Victoria’s visit and the upcoming reading.
What had her sister meant about the gas station’s finances? Roberto had owned Estrella Gas Station for as long as Carmen could remember. It was a small operation on the edge of town, with just two pumps and a tiny convenience store attached. In recent years, business had slowed as bigger chains opened nearby, but her father had always seemed to make ends meet.
Had he really been struggling so much that Marcus and Victoria had been helping him financially? And if so, why hadn’t he ever mentioned it to Carmen? The thought that her father might have been suffering silently, too proud to admit his difficulties, broke her heart. After dinner, Carmen changed back into her waitress uniform and called Mrs. Patel from the apartment upstairs, who watched the twins when Carmen worked evenings. Another expense she could barely afford? I shouldn’t be later than 11, Carmen told the older woman as she prepared to leave.
The girls have homework to finish, and then bed by 9. 30, please. Don’t worry, Mrs. Patel assured her. We will be fine.
The evening shift at Mel’s was busy, a small blessing that kept Carmen too occupied to dwell on the day’s events. Still, as she carried plates and wiped tables, her mind kept returning to tomorrow’s will reading. What would her father have left behind? Certainly not much of material value, if Victoria was to be believed.
The memories came unbidden as she worked. Her father taught her to change a tire when she was 10. His patient voice guided her through math homework, the pride in his eyes when she won the art competition in high school.
His quiet support when she told him she was pregnant at 22, and Derek had proposed. Even after the divorce, when her siblings made their disappointment abundantly clear, Roberto had never wavered. Life is not a straight road, Mija, he would say.
Sometimes the most beautiful views come after the hardest climbs. By the time Carmen returned home, paid Mrs. Patel, and checked on her sleeping daughters, it was nearly midnight. She should sleep.
Tomorrow would be another long day, but instead she found herself pulling out the old photo album her father had given her last Christmas. So you remember where you come from? He had said, his English still heavily accented even after 40 years in America. The album was filled with photos of Roberto as a young man, newly arrived from El Salvador with nothing but determination and a dream.
There he was outside the gas station the day he bought it, his smile wide and proud, Carmen as a toddler, sitting on his shoulders, family picnics, birthdays, graduations. Roberto had documented it all, creating a visual history of their family’s journey. The last photo in the album was recent, Roberto with the twins at their 12th birthday party.
His health had already been failing, though he’d hidden it well. Now looking at the picture, Carmen could see the fatigue in his eyes, the slight strain in his smile. Carmen closed the album, wiping away tears.
Tomorrow she would face her siblings, her ex-husband, and the reality of her father’s estate. But tonight, she allowed herself to simply grieve the man who had been her constant support. I miss you, Poppy, she whispered into the quiet apartment.
The next day dawned gray and drizzly, matching Carmen’s mood as she prepared for the will reading. She had called in sick for her morning shift. Her manager had been understanding but firm.
One more absence this month would put her job at risk. After seeing the twins off to school with extra tight hugs, Carmen stood before her closet considering her options. She didn’t own many formal outfits.
Finally, she settled on a simple black dress she’d worn to a wedding last year, paired with her only decent pair of heels. As she applied minimal makeup, Carmen’s phone rang. It was Derek again.
I’ve been thinking about Luna’s situation at school, he began without greeting. Stephanie and I were talking, and we think it might be best if the girls spent more time with us. My neighborhood has better schools.
Not now, Derek, Carmen interrupted. I’m on my way to my father’s will reading. There was a pause.
Right, I forgot that it was today. Any idea what he left you? The question was too casual, too pointed. Why do you ask? Just curious.
He owned that gas station free and clear, right? That’s a valuable piece of commercial real estate. So that was it. Derek was fishing for information about potential assets.
Even after three years, his opportunism could still surprise her. I have to go, she said. She ended the call and finished getting ready.
A new worry adding itself to her growing collection. If Derek thought she might be coming into money, he would certainly use it to argue for reduced child support, or worse, push for custody changes. The attorney’s office was downtown, in one of the glass and steel buildings that made up the city’s modest skyline.
Carmen parked her aging sedan in the public garage two blocks away, not wanting to pull up beside Marcus’s Tesla or Victoria’s Range Rover. As she walked, clutching her father’s photo album to her chest like a shield, Carmen rehearsed what she would say to her siblings. The receptionist directed her to the third floor, where Michael Reeves, her father’s attorney, had his practice.
When Carmen stepped off the elevator, she immediately spotted her family in the waiting area. No one noticed Carmen’s arrival at first, giving her a moment to observe them. They looked like what they were, successful, polished professionals with expensive tastes and busy schedules.
Marcus had inherited their father’s height and broad shoulders but none of his warmth. Victoria had their mother’s delicate features, set in a perpetually judgmental expression. It was Marcus who spotted her first.
Finally, he said, checking his watch. Victoria looked up, her eyes cataloging Carmen’s outfit in a fraction of a second, the slight tightening of her lips indicating her assessment. Carmen, you look, rested.
Before Carmen could respond, a door opened, and Michael Reeves appeared. He was in his sixties with silver hair and kind eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses. He had been Roberto’s friend as well as his attorney, Carmen, he said warmly, stepping forward to embrace her.
It’s good to see you. The simple kindness nearly broke through Carmen’s carefully constructed composure. She returned the hug briefly before stepping back…
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