Young Alberto Martinez's dream was to have his own car shop.
The prospects of that happening were slim to none. He was poor, fatherless and had five other siblings, and they had the misfortune of living in one of the poorest slums of the Venezuelan capital, where it was just as easy to die in the middle of gang crossfire as it was to become one of the killers. And he thought that was going to be his fate until he fell in love with Maria Lucia Fernandez.
She was the daughter of a car shop owner.
How did they even meet, you may wonder? Well, one afternoon Alberto and his buddies wheeled a car into that shop that they'd just stolen nearby. Except they'd botched up the spark plug and the car wouldn't move. He took one look at Maria Lucia, at the sweet smile and disposition she had back then, and right then and there he decided that he was going to become The Man for her.
So I guessed his dream hadn't started out as being all about the car shop, it was about marrying the car shop ownerâand then becoming the owner.
His life of petty crime had taught him a lot about cars and motorcycles, so the transition from that to his to be father-in-law's car shop was not terribly difficult. What did prove impossible was to convince the gang that he was not about that life anymore, even after years of living a clean and decent life with his wife. So he packed up his bags, grabbed Maria Lucia and their firstborn, and requested asylum in the USA.
Two decades later and he'd made his dreams come true. He and his family were American citizens, proud owners of a family business that recently expanded to a second location and even though he didn't have any sons to put their muscle behind the business, he had two daughters and a new dream: for them to use their brains to further expand the business.
Phase one of the new dream was my sister. Antonieta, or Toni as she preferred to be called, was admitted into the Finance and Accounting program at UCF two summers ago. Phase two was me, Rory, or Aurora as my parents named me, and my role was to go into Business Administration.
Which was why it was so important that I blew it out of the park with my college applications. Not only was I the last piece for the Martinez Fernandez decades' long plan, but I also had to make sure to fulfill it within a short commute distance of the two car shops, so that I could at least help during the weekends like I currently was.
It was Saturday morning and the niggling fear that I was not doing enough had haunted my second week back at school. I went back to Mr. Davies' office a couple of times more, and although we came up with a few more ideas, there was not much else that was benefiting the school that we could think of, the same way it would to make a certain someone receive his high school diploma.
"Wouldn't that be a heartwarming story for the school paper?" he mused aloud two days ago, in a way that was obviously trying to guilt trip me into going along with the idea. Instead I suggested tutoring freshmen, or helping the local girl scouts maximize their profits off of thin mints.
He shrugged. "Those things might be nice, but they won't help me."
I gasped. "We're not here to help you, we're here to help me!"
"Rory," he said as he leaned forward against his desk. "You're one the smartest students I've had and frankly one of my favorite of all time. But I'm disappointed I have to spoil the lesson for you before you learn it." I frowned as he paused. "And that is, that the world does not revolve around you."
Of course it didn't. I knew that. The world revolved around the sun and I was neither that big or hot.
But now I sat in my dad's office on Saturday morning, not having made any progress on finding a thing that would turn me from a smart student into the superstar all the local colleges would fight for. I'd been trying to do my homework since the shop opened an hour ago, but instead my head kept wandering and with that my pen went on a trip on my notebook that tried to map the evolution of the topic in my head. I slammed it shut and threw my pen on the desk, looking up to see papa talking with Jerry, one of the most senior guys who was now the second in command of the new branch. I couldn't hear squat all from the conversation, since papa's office was isolated to noise, but I could almost swear that all sound ceased at the sudden arrival.
Sawyer Logan strutted into the shop like he was the owner. He wore his grey overalls bunched up around his hips as if they were just pants, and a t-shirt that was once white. He exchanged one of those weird bro fist bumps with Manny, who was only a few years older, and then greeted Jerry and papa like it was NBD.
I narrowed my eyes as he opened the door, and the fact that all sound seemed to have paused at his entrance was proven to be complete fallacy.
"You're late," I said, making sure to point at the digital clock on the wall. "A whole hour and a half late, as a matter of fact."
He pulled out his punch card from the back pocket of his overalls and punched it. Slowly. The fact that I was not able to mask my annoyance fed him. He folded his arms and gave me one of those smirks he was so famous for, the kind that lit up his grey eyes like lightning and made my temper burn like wildfire.
"Good morning, princess. Were you worried about me?"
I sucked in half of the oxygen in the room.
And then I released it.
With a calm smile I said, "I'm gonna have to dock it off your pay."
That cut his amusement short. He was about to tell me a piece of his mind, no doubt, when Manny opened the door. "Hey man, Jerry wants to talk to you about that fender bender. He thinks we can probably repair it instead of ordering a new part."
Sawyer hadn't moved a muscle despite Manny showing up. He was still looking at me like he maybe wanted to rearrange my face, which I knew he wouldn't. I was looking at him the same way, and we both knew I would.
"Fine," he said, finally tearing his eyes away from me and walking out of the office.
I thought that was going to be that, but Manny had other ideas. He closed the door behind him and sighed. "Rory, you know I love you like a little sister but you gotta learn some chill."
I gave him my sweetest smile. "Why don't you turn your feet around and go tell your best friend to learn some responsibility instead?"
He groaned. "He's not that bad, seriously. He's actually been pretty punctual and is damn good at the job."
"Wait," I pointed my finger at him at the same time as papa shouldered his way into the office. Manny and I kept at it, though, and I said, "He's been pretty punctual? I thought we were all making a big deal of the fact that he had perfect attendance."
"I, uh." He looked at my dad, who of course offered no help, then he looked outside where somewhere in the distance something called his eye. "Hey, listen. I gotta go. Just," he said as he gave a sheepish grin. "Chill, okay?"
I sat back and folded my arms as papa and I watched him go. Before he could even think of relaxing in the comfort of his office I said, "Why did you even hire him?"
Papa blinked a couple of times. "Manny? He's great with vintage cars."
"No," I grumbled, jerking my chin in the direction of where Jerry was showing Sawyer around the fender bender. "Him."
Papa didn't say anything for a while as he shuffled a few receipts on the table adjacent to the desk. He didn't have to. Papa had seen something of himself in a man called Jack Logan who walked into his brand new car shop, looking for a job over ten years ago. I saw absolutely nothing of Alberto in Jack, and neither had anybody else. Alberto didn't go around on the edge of something.
Worse of all, Alberto now seemed to see something of himself in Jack's son.
"Shouldn't you be doing your homework?" he asked instead, with the English grammar he had perfected tainted with a heavy Venezuelan accent that would not go away.
I pulled my text book closer to me, but still managed to grumble, "Well, he was late, just so you know."
"And you're wasting time instead of studying."
That smarted but it effectively made me drop the topic. I picked up my notebook and opened it to the page I was supposed to be taking notes on, and saw that it was covered in lines that together looked like an enchanted forest.
I slammed it shut with so much force that it flipped over. It got papa's attention away from the receipts for a second that stopped my heartbeat, but the next he was immersed in work again.
The plan. I had to remember the plan.
Me drawing wasn't anywhere near it, so I couldn't let anybody see any of my doodles and have them think I was distracted from the plan. I was getting into Business School, and no doodles and no Sawyer were going to help me get there. I just had to find another way. At that second I regretted not having lied about my background to get into to Trinity last year. When they'd opened up that rare scholarship position I'd seen a bright future. If I could do junior and senior year at the renown Trinity High School of Winter Park, that would have absolutely solved the issue I now found myself in.
Instead I'd been rejected on the grounds of not being underprivileged enough.
That had smacked me of discriminatory. I, too, was underprivileged! I was the second daughter of strict, Catholic immigrants who pinched both pennies and praise. Even when I did the right thing, say, call out the fact that one of the employees was late, I was rewarded with comments like chill or do your homework instead.
Ugh, what did a girl have to do to get something good going on?
And a few minutes later, life gave me the answer. Or an answer.
Remember when I said that the this story started when everything crumbled around me? As I sat with papa in his office, my mind a jungle with thoughts about college applications, I didn't realize that I was about to embark on learning The Big Lesson Mr. Davies mentioned.
It was around midday when Toni ran into the office with mama in tow. Their ashen faces told us that something was off. Very off. Papa and I stood up at the same time, watching mama lock the door, draw the blinds. This time all sounds did really stop. My breathing stopped.
And then my sister delivered the news that would send the entire Martinez Fernandez plan to oblivion.
"I'm pregnant."
and i
but without the s