Jaime took charge of everything. As was to be expected of him. He asked Aunt Emma to go with the grandparents so they could all change into their mourning clothes. We went back home to wait for the body to be delivered so we could hold a wake, as we had done for my mother. Jaime wouldn’t agree to a wake in an impersonal funeral home. María would prepare everything with the help of two hired assistants. The Spencer grandparents and Aunt Emma arrived before John’s body did. They wore uniforms of black.

  I didn’t have a black suit, or so I thought. María came to my room with one, saying it was the suit I had worn for my mother’s funeral. It didn’t fit me well because I had lost weight, but it would do.

  “These wakes are absurd,” I protested as I watched María brushing down the suit.

  —

  Over the years I’ve relived that memory of how John died without me saying goodbye to him. I should have kissed him or held his hand before they took him to the operating room. Maybe I could have told him that I wanted with all my heart for the operation to go well, that I was there for him. But I let him die with no kind farewell, not a single reassuring gesture.

  I could have said something like:

  “Dad, I’m here because I want to be with you. Don’t worry, you’ll pull through this.” Or maybe, “Dad, I need you. Don’t leave me alone. I’ve done a lot of stupid things, but you know I love you.”

  —

  But not one of these words came from my mouth. I said nothing to ease his pain, or honor his wish that I show him some shred of affection.

  His last look had been for me and all he saw was nothingness. Do I regret it? No, I don’t regret it, even though I know he deserved at least a glimpse of kindness from me. He never let me down, he loved me all his life. But that wasn’t something I thought about, because the anger that courses through me has always been far stronger.

  —

  Jaime called the family’s closest friends. He’d also asked Miss Turner, John’s secretary, to tell John’s most important clients and associates. The wake would begin at three in the afternoon.

  Esther was the first to arrive. María welcomed her warmly, telling her the wake would be held in the main living room. Esther hugged Jaime first, and I was filled with hatred as I watched them lose themselves in each other’s arms. When she came over to me I stopped her from touching me. She didn’t seem to mind, just shrugged her shoulders. My bad mood was met only with her indifference, which just increased my anger.

  At that moment Aunt Emma entered the room, and on seeing Esther embraced her.

  “So kind of you…Thank you for being with us.”

  After Esther came the partners from John’s office. My grandfather James stood in the hall to welcome all the family friends. I noticed how old he was. He was supporting himself with a cane. His fragility was unmistakable.

  When there were enough people that my absence could pass unnoticed, I went to my room. I was tired and needed to sleep for a couple of hours. I locked my door. In my sleep, I thought I heard Jaime’s voice calling me, and even my grandmother Dorothy’s. But I paid no attention. I couldn’t open my eyes. It was around eight when I woke up.

  I’d fallen asleep on top of the covers, so I took a shower and changed my clothes before going to the kitchen in search of a cup of tea. Esther was there helping the two girls we’d hired to work with María. They were arranging canapés on trays.

  It irritated me that the wake had to be held at our home.

  Esther didn’t even look at me. She was absorbed in making sure that everything went well. The two girls were asking her what to do and how to do it, and she showed them which canapés to prepare, how to distribute the sandwiches, and where to put the trays with coffee. Every so often she left the kitchen, then quickly returned with an empty tray or to fulfill a request to make another pot of coffee.

  Jaime came into the kitchen but didn’t see me. I watched as he went to Esther and took both her hands in his, looking at her with such intensity that I thought he was about to cry.

  “Thank you. You’re helping us so much. Aunt Emma can’t cope, my grandmother doesn’t even know what she’s doing here, and my grandfather…But if you have to go—well, I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

  “Let me feel useful. And don’t worry, there’s nowhere more important for me to be right now than with your family. There are so many people that it’s difficult to see to them all properly. You should convince your grandfather to rest awhile. He’s worn out.”

  “You’re right. You know something, Esther? You’re…you really are wonderful. Thank you.”

  As soon as Jaime left the kitchen I went straight to her.

  “You’re so wonderful…You have my brother wrapped around your little finger. When’s the wedding?”

  Esther left the tray she’d been preparing on the counter and looked me up and down. A grimace of contempt spread across her lips.

  “What are you doing here, Thomas? Why did you come?”

  “I don’t understand—”

  “Of course you understand. Your presence here is unnecessary. You didn’t love John, you don’t feel like you belong to this family. Nobody matters to you and you’ve stopped mattering to anybody else. I mean it: your presence here is unnecessary.”

  She spoke so harshly that I found it hard to recognize the Esther I’d always known.

  “This is my house. Or have you forgotten that?”

  “This was John’s and your mother’s home, and your brother’s too. None of them matter to you. You’ve never loved them and you don’t want them. You couldn’t even take John’s hand at the hospital, even though you knew his life was at stake.”

  “Did Jaime tell you that?”

  “What does it matter who told me? That’s not the issue, Thomas: the issue is this evil that lives in you. I’ve always known you weren’t a nice person, but I thought that somewhere in all the shadow in you there was still some ray of light, and that over time you would make peace with yourself and appreciate those who have loved you.”

  “You loved me, Esther.”

  “Yes, Thomas, I loved you very much. You know that.”

  “And now?”

  “Now we’ve all chosen our own path.”

  “Are you in love with Jaime?” I asked irritably.

  “If I gave in to my feelings…then yes, I know that Jaime and I could be happy together. But you’re you, Thomas, and that will stop Jaime from doing anything.”

  “Would it stop you?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Get out, Esther—you’re not needed here.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her into the hall, ready to throw her out.

  My grandfather saw us and, in spite of his clumsy movements, came up to us angrily, incensed by my behavior.

  “Let her go! What are you doing?”

  “I want her to leave.”

  “How could you say that? Esther is someone we all love. Don’t you dare tell her to leave,” he said.

  “It’s my home!”

  “It’s the Spencers’ home. First it was mine, then your father’s, and now it will be Jaime’s,” he said, holding my gaze.

  His words wounded me deeply. James Spencer had put me in my place. I saw the pain in his eyes, but at the same time his determination.

  Esther looked at us, distraught. She hesitated, not knowing what to do, but my grandfather didn’t give her a choice.

  “If you don’t mind, Esther, please go back to helping María. And thank you for allowing us to rely on you,” my grandfather said to her.

  When Esther returned to the kitchen we remained alone in the hall, face-to-face. Some of the people who had witnessed our argument had tactfully returned to the living room.

  “I never thought I’d have to say this to you, but the time has come for you to make a decision: either you’re in or you’re out of this family. I’m not going to allow you to keep hurting the people who’ve given you nothing but love. We don’t owe you anything, Thomas, absol
utely nothing, so we’re not going to put up with you anymore. You decide—take it or leave it. But if you do decide to stay, there will be conditions, the kind your mother and John never dared impose on you. You will change. You will behave like the best brother in the world to Jaime, you will show affection to your aunt Emma, and you will treat your grandmother and me with respect. If you cannot or you will not do that, then don’t bother staying here a minute longer. Get your things and go. The sooner the better. I’ve already told you, we don’t need you.”

  “I’m not one of you,” I responded with a sneer.

  “That’s something you yourself decided a long time ago.” My grandfather’s voice was so harsh, it seemed at odds with the kind man he had always been.

  I didn’t know what to do. Out of pride, perhaps for the sake of dignity, I should have left right then and there. But I didn’t. I was aware of how empty my life would be if I allowed myself to be kicked out of the only family I had known. Everything I’d done up to that moment I had done only because I knew there were people behind me. The Spencers were like a safety net above which I could walk a tightrope, knowing that if I fell they would catch me. They had endured my insults, the hostility I had shown them, all the cruelty I was capable of mustering. And the only reason they had endured any of that was because John wouldn’t let them cut me out of their lives. John had protected me, even from myself.

  I hadn’t understood this until that moment. I realized that the net had been pulled out from under me and I had to tread carefully, because if I fell there would be no one to help me.

  My grandfather continued looking at me, motionless, waiting for me to be the one to make the next move. He could barely stand. His age manifested itself in every pore of his skin.

  “Understood,” I agreed.

  “Then I have nothing more to say to you.” He turned his back on me and returned to the living room, just as Jaime was walking out to say goodbye to one of John’s friends.

  Jaime seemed to ignore me. His eyes wouldn’t meet mine. He treated me like someone who wasn’t worth the effort to consider. This set off all my alarm bells. Aunt Emma had given me up for lost a long time ago. Now I knew the Spencer grandparents had as well. Jaime had followed them. I was becoming a stranger in the very home I had called my own. We had reached a point where it would cost them nothing to get rid of me. They’d even welcome my absence, since my presence warped their peaceful lives.

  My brother went back into the living room. I was stuck where I was, unable to react. And then I saw her. Yes, Esther was still there. She hadn’t returned to the kitchen, just stepped back a couple of paces to let us talk. She came up to me and hugged me, and I let her.

  “Come on, let’s go to the kitchen and have a cup of coffee. It’ll do you good.”

  “Thank you for the invitation. As you’ve heard, this is no longer my home.”

  “Thomas, your grandfather is right. You all can’t go on like this. It makes no sense. No human should have to endure being hurt by another. They have given you so much love.”

  “You loved me too.”

  “Yes, Thomas, I did too. And I would have liked to keep doing so, but you wouldn’t let me. The truth is you won’t allow anyone to love you—it’s as if it scares you to receive someone else’s love.”

  I felt lost. I could never have admitted this to anyone, but I was never capable of pretending with Esther. I let her take me to the kitchen, sat where she told me to and drank a cup of coffee. Esther watched me. There was no compassion in her expression, but neither was there sorrow.

  “What do you think I should do now?” I asked, eager for her answer.

  “It’s tough…They’ve had enough. They have good reason. You’ve cut the cord, Thomas.”

  “So today I cut the cord by trying to throw you out of here.” By placing the blame on her I’d make her the one responsible for my situation.

  “I hope I’m not the one to blame…I think that cord was cut a long time ago, but John stopped them from letting it show. He loved you and wouldn’t let anyone go against you.”

  “There was no reason for him to love me,” I replied angrily, as if John’s love had been a burden.

  “Nobody can control their feelings or emotions. He loved you and that’s that. To John you were always his first son, the son of his beloved Carmela. The mere fact that he loved her made him love you too. You know what, Thomas? Life has been generous to you, but you haven’t been generous to the ones who gave you everything.”

  I broke down in tears. It was the only time I’ve ever cried in my life. I don’t know why I cried, but I did. Esther embraced me and cried with me.

  María came into the kitchen and was surprised to see us hugging, fighting back the tears. She said nothing. She picked up a tray and returned to the living room, gesturing to the two servers to do their work and leave us alone.

  We hugged each other for a long time. Long enough for Jaime to see us. He came into the kitchen for ice and stood there for a minute, not moving. His face showed something like pain and betrayal, but he said nothing. He turned around and left the kitchen.

  “I don’t know what to do,” I said to Esther quietly.

  “I think you should go back to the living room and go to your grandfather. Give him a hug. You don’t need to say anything, that will be enough.”

  “I don’t know if I can do that. I…I feel nothing. That’s the way I am. The truth is you’re the only one I love, the only one I can count on.” I started to sob again and Esther held me tightly.

  Over the years, I have learned that women are capable of the greatest sacrifices if they think them necessary. They can give up everything, even happiness, to act as heroines in the theater of their own lives. My tears brought me back to Esther, they were what joined her to me forever. No word, no other gesture could have convinced her to come back to me. My tears were the only argument needed to break down her determination.

  She came with me to the living room and waited in the doorway as I went up to my grandfather, but he just waved me away. Jaime, meanwhile, continued to ignore me. I looked at Esther; I needed her to bear witness to these snubs. I went back to her.

  “It’s over,” I said, trying to solicit her pity.

  “You’ve brought it upon yourself, Thomas. But…well, now’s not the time for reprimands. Look after your father’s friends, try to be discreet, and we’ll hope that they all leave soon so you can talk to your family,” advised Esther.

  I decided not to defy her. I did as she told me, though I was starting to feel vertigo from the emptiness the Spencers had opened up beneath me. It was around ten when the last guest left. My grandfather sat in an armchair and buried his head in his hands. My grandmother caressed his neck. Her mind had gone, and she didn’t understand what was happening.

  “Dad, you have to rest. María has set up the guest room for you both,” said Emma.

  “Are you going home?” asked my grandfather.

  “No, I’ll stay here. I’ll keep vigil over John.”

  “I’ll do it with you,” said my grandfather, looking at his daughter.

  “We’ll take turns,” Jaime interrupted. “You can stay awhile, no more than a couple of hours, then you have to sleep. Aunt Emma and I will stay the rest of the night.”

  “I also want to keep vigil for…for John,” I said, taking a step toward Jaime. Esther had actually been the one to suggest I do this.

  “That won’t be necessary. No need to concern yourself,” replied Jaime, his voice tense.

  “I want to do it,” I insisted.

  “John would have preferred you to show a little more love when he was alive—it’s too late now,” Emma said scornfully, looking me up and down.

  I was about to throw some insult at her but I decided against it. Esther was watching us and I didn’t want to make a misstep in case I lost her again. I took a deep breath before replying.

  “Now’s not the time for reprimands, least of all with John’s body here, d
on’t you think? If you’ll let me, I’d like to spend some time with him.”

  “We’d prefer to be alone,” declared my grandfather.

  My grandmother looked at us in amazement; she didn’t seem to understand what was going on.

  “S-so…” I stammered.

  “The burial will be tomorrow at ten. We won’t stop you from coming if you want to, but until then we don’t want you here.” My grandfather stood up, indicating that I should leave.

  Esther came up and took my hand. We left the living room, feeling Jaime’s eyes upon us.

  “Pack some things in a suitcase right now,” Esther ordered me.

  “A suitcase?” I asked in surprise.

  “You can’t stay here anymore, Thomas, it’s over. I thought there was still a chance, but there isn’t. Maybe with time, but not now.”

  She came to my room with me and helped me to put all the clothes I thought I’d need in my suitcase. I let her do it. I was more upset than I wanted to admit. They’d kicked me out. They were getting rid of me.

  We left what had been my home with me not fully comprehending what was happening to me.

  It was cold outside. We walked a long time. I threw down my suitcase as I began to feel a wave of fury come over me. I started to turn around to head back and yell that I wouldn’t let them throw me out, but then a taxi appeared. Esther flagged it down.

  We got into the car and she gave the driver an address in Nolita. I only then realized that I hadn’t asked her where we were going.

  “We’re going to my place.”

  “But you don’t live in Nolita,” I replied, confused.

  “I’ve lived there for a couple of weeks now.”

  “But what about your parents?” It seemed incredible to me that Esther would have moved out of her family home.

  “Well, they encouraged me. At some point I had to start living my own life. I earn enough to look after myself. The apartment is small but the area isn’t bad.”

  The apartment wasn’t as small as she’d said. At least it was bigger than Yoko’s. Esther had decorated it tastefully. She’d painted the walls beige and the furniture was modern and functional. The main room was big enough to be divided into three spaces. On one side there was a sofa behind a coffee table, on another was a dining table with four chairs, and in a corner next to the window stood a desk. As well as the bedroom there was a bathroom and a kitchen with a couple of barstools behind the counter.