Read End of the Road (Ghost Stories Trilogy #1) for Free Online

across the crown of Mariella’s head, smoothing glossy black curls that
were so much like her father’s. My brothers had warned me something like this
would happen. I thought that after Mariella was born, he’d change.
    “Is there someone I can contact
for you? Your parents?”
    With a population of four
hundred, our town was small and Officer Peña knew everyone. He also knew
Francisco wasn’t one to stay home with his wife and daughter on a Saturday
night.
    I attempted to smile at his
kindness, but couldn’t. “Si por favor. Gracias,” I added as an afterthought.
    Officer Pena glanced
around the room. There wasn’t much to see. The sofa was lumpy and worn. A
bookshelf contained a few pictures and books, but was otherwise empty. A radio
that only received one station sat in the corner of the living room, a layer of
dust coated the top. His brown eyes, heavy with the weight of his job, met
mine. “I’ll go get your parents, Juanita,” he said and gently patted Mariella’s
head.
    After he left, reality
hit. My body shook with sobs and Mariella woke up screaming. I was inconsolable
and so was she. This was how my mother found us.
    “Mama!” I cried when I
saw her standing in the doorway.
    She immediately took
Mariella out of my arms and began singing to her. Within minutes Mariella had
dozed off and my mom placed her in her crib. She turned and hugged me. I
started crying all over again; my sobs muffled by her shoulder.
     
    When I had calmed down
enough she led me into the kitchen and got me a glass of water. She sat down
across from me at the table.
    “Juanita, I knew this
would happen.”
    “Mama, don’t. Please.
What am I going to do now?”
    Francisco didn’t make a
lot of money, but it was enough to support us, barely. Mariella started to cry
again, triggering pressure in my breasts. I retrieved her and brought her back
to the table. I lifted my shirt and Mariella latched on to a nipple, sucking
greedily. There was no way I could work while still breastfeeding. Also, men
earned more than women and my income wouldn’t replace Francisco’s. Mama reached
over and patted my knee. I looked at her and saw the love in her dark brown
eyes. I wasn’t truly alone, but the full burden of taking care of my daughter
weighed heavy on me.
    “Come live with your
father and me.”
    “Mama, I can’t. We’ll be
too much for you.”
    “No. You’re my child and
grandchild. You need this.”
    She was right and now
wasn’t the time to argue with her. It was only a matter of weeks before I’d get
evicted from the villa.
    “Okay,” I said.
    “Good, now give me niña.”
    Mariella had dozed off
mid-feeding and I passed her to my mom. I didn’t have the energy to follow them
into the bedroom. I watched condensation drip down the side of my glass; the slow
progression almost hypnotizing.
    “Juanita.” I jumped at
the sound of my mom’s voice. “Come, you need to rest too.” She led me into the
bedroom and past Mariella’s crib. I lay down and stared up at my mom.
    “Gracias, Mama. I’m glad
you came.”
    “Shhh, that’s what
mothers do.” She smoothed my hair back and kissed my forehead.
    It took me two weeks to
bury my husband and move in with my parents. During this time, I learned about
the events leading up to Francisco’s death. The more he drank, the more
persistent he had become in trying to get a woman at the bar to dance with him.
Turns out she was married and her husband didn’t care for Francisco’s
attention.
    Left with practically
nothing, I turned my focus to Mariella and to healing. Moving in with my
parents was a blessing. When sadness overwhelmed me, my mom was quick to pick
up Mariella and keep her occupied. At night, when papa came home from work at
the copper mines, he’d bounce his giggling granddaughter on his knee, which was
more than Francisco ever did.
    Money was never
mentioned, but I couldn’t justify living there and eating their food, without
being able to contribute. My