Chocolates and Beer

III

‘Jean, come here, sit.’ mom said as soon as I opened the door. We have a visitor I know nothing about. It was the first time I had seen him, but the feeling I get is not pleasant. My mom is stiffly sitting across from the man in our small living room. I quietly sat beside her, avoiding the gaze of the man on the opposite chair. ‘This man is bad news’, I thought to myself.

'This is Connor Perez,’ she stopped for a split second, reluctant about what to say next, ‘He is your father.' He lives in Canada and came here to visit you,’ she continued, trying to be calm, but her trembling words failed to hide her nervousness in this situation.

‘Hi, Jean. Wow, it’s been so long. You. 'You're beautiful.' He spit the words as if he had forgotten to breathe. He stuttered with an awkward laugh. Is he trying to light up the mood? Well, it's not helping.

'Ahm, you'll be in college, right? I've been talking with your mother, and we're actually planning to...'

'Mom, sorry I'm tired. Please excuse me first.' This is nonsense. Why would a "father" suddenly come out of nowhere? And be talking about college?

'Jean, your father went a long way to visit you. He's been wanting to see you. Can you please just....' Mom is trying to convince me with that trembling voice again. And it's ringing in my ears now. I've only been home for a minute and I already want to leave again.

‘Father, who? Sorry, sir, but I don’t have a father. You must be mistaken.’

'Jean, he's offering to pay for your college, you can continue your studies in Canada and your father will provide everything for you.’ Mom said, obviously forcing a smile out of her face and trying to act really happy.

‘Offering? What? Is this some kind of charity work? Isn't that his obligation? Oh, no. I forgot. You didn't want any obligation,’ I replied. The next thing I knew was that the conversation was just between me and my mother. The so-called "father" seems to have lost his voice, looking down on his feet. That's right. Be ashamed. What made you think that you have the right to step inside this house?

‘Jean, your father came back for you, and he wanted to make up for all the lost time. Look, he’s rich and he’s great. He can secure your future. Not like me, you’re already a year late. You were supposed to start college last year but because we can’t afford it…’

‘Nobody can secure my future other than myself, mom.’ I interrupted. I'm feeling more and more irritated. Just early this morning, mom was talking about working hard so she could send me to college. Why is it now like she's giving her away? Is she tired? Finally tired of raising a daughter like me? Does she think that this man's entrance will resolve all her problems and end her suffering? Who made her suffer in the first place? Isn't it this man?

‘We’ve come a long way, just the two of us together. Why are you suddenly including this man?’ I questioned my man. Isn't she mad at him?

‘Why do you think I'd welcome you with open arms just because you'd pay for my college? A good life? You’re rich? If you’re rich, then why do we have to live a hard life? Why did you leave my mom? Why did you leave us?’ I'm frustrated, but I'm trying hard to hold my tears. I don't want to shed a tear for this man.

‘Jean, enough. It’s because his family didn’t want us back then, everything’s sudden, my pregnancy…’ Why are you standing up for this man?

‘You too. Didn’t your parents refuse to help you? He’s a man, but he didn’t act like one.'

‘I’m sorry, it’s just that I was so young when you came, and I didn’t know what to do. I'm helpless. I'm really sorry.’ I can't believe his excuse. My mom was in the same position but she never left me. She could give me to an orphanage, but she refused to do that. For her, life is worth fighting for as long as we're together.

‘Do I really have to mention that my mom was also young back then?’ The words that came out of my mouth put them into complete silence.

‘Look, sir, we do not need your offer. We don't need your help, we can manage. We don't need you.’ I stood up and did not wait for any reply. Mom tried to grab my arm, but I immediately gave the signal that I didn’t want to talk anymore and stayed in the room any longer. I don't know what happened after that. All I know is that I laid down in bed confused, frustrated, and hungry. I didn't even get to wash up and this made me angrier.

I was so tired the next day. I was beaten at work but never got any sleep. What happened last night still bothers me. ‘Did I overreact? No, I didn’t, we really lived a hard life. Mom… Ah, how am I going to face her? Did she already leave? I’ll wait here a little more.’ I keep on telling the same thing to myself until her stomach rumbles. ‘Ah,’ I had not eaten any dinner, and now I'm longing for breakfast. I peek outside my room, making sure that mom’s not home. I went and went straight to the table, opening the pots to see what was inside.

‘Good morning, dear.’ I dropped the lid of the pot to my surprise. ‘Good morning, mom,’ I replied, avoiding eye contact.

‘Hungry? Let me prepare the food for you.'

‘Okay.’ I quietly sat on the chair while she was preparing the food. ‘Don’t you have work today?’ I awkwardly asked.

'Yes. I’ll be off in an hour or so. I just want to have breakfast with you. I’ve already told my boss that I would be a little late.’

‘Look, mom, about last night.’

‘It’s okay, Jean. I know it’s all so sudden and too much to bear. I should’ve taken it slow,’ she said while putting the plate in front of me. ‘For now, let’s just have breakfast together, okay? Gosh, I can’t even remember the last time we ate together.’

‘Yeah, that was quite a while ago.’ She's been busy doing work here and there. And I also do part-time jobs in the name of school activities. So, we're missing each other.

‘I’m sorry, dear. Let's just enjoy the food, okay? I woke up early to prepare these,’ she said proudly, spreading her hand, introducing the food she cooked.

‘Early? To prepare an omelet? I can cook this in less than 15 minutes,” I teasingly responded. My mother is not like the other mothers who are experts in the kitchen, but I always appreciate it when she tries to do something for me.

‘C’mon, I really made an effort to do it.’

‘Okay, okay. Thanks for the food.’ I love my mom.