The clatter of plates, mixed with the sweet aroma coming from the kitchen and low hum of conversations filled the cozy restaurant where Cynthia and I sat tucked in a corner booth. The scent of fresh-baked bread and herbs wrapped around us like a comforting shawl, tantalizing my taste buds, an odd contrast to the storm brewing in my mind.
"It's Monday." I whined
Yesterday after I left Cynthia, I'd gone home to think through possible solutions with my aunt Elena. Today I woke up so optimistic, it hurt. On my way out I ran into my landlord. The look he gave wasn't friendly. It was a warning. Two days!!!
"So, what's the plan, chica?" Cynthia asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief but her voice gentle. "You are still on the job hunt?"
I sighed and pushed my untouched bread aside. "Well of course I am. But it feels like hitting a brick wall every time I come up with something new, or even remotely different." My fingers traced the rim of my coffee cup. "I've thought about being a waitress or cashier or even a teacher at some school… none of it seems to stick. None of them pay what I need. And with Aunt Elena needing treatment, I can't afford to waste time. I mean it's been two weeks or more she has fallen ill and I don't even know what we're really treating"
Cynthia nodded, stirring her tea thoughtfully. "I've been asking around, pulling some strings, you know, places I've been owed a favor or won a bet." She smiles and continues "No guarantees yet, but I might have several leads. I just want you to have options."
I smiled weakly, gratitude swelling in my chest. "Thanks, Cindy. You're literally the best and I don't know what I would have done without you."
We slipped into gossip for a bit. Jared, the son of one of the Secretaries of a big business firm in the area who had landed a really cushy job abroad, Dante's scandalous breakup with his girlfriend-turned-fiancee we had predicted some months ago. Who was dating who for real or who was in it for convenience. It felt good to forget the weight on my shoulders, even if just for a moment.
"You remember Maria?" Cynthia asked with a smirk.
"Uh-huh?" I replied wide eyed, already bracing myself.
"She's working at that fancy law firm downtown. Big jump for the quiet girl in class. Like, who would have thought?"
"Really? Type shit" I laughed, the sound lighter than I expected. "Yeah, and she's still the same gossip queen. Isn't she huh?"
"You bet", Cynthia answered and we both snickered remembering how gossipy the quiet girl had been.
"You were a quiet one back then, weren't you?" I said, teasingly
"Yeah, but a different kind of quiet, with confidence and self worth, you know. Maria was always a pile of shaking jelly on the other hand." Cynthia said sipping her tea with so much attitude for a quiet girl.
The clock on the wall reminded me how little time I had to spend with her. "I should get going. Aunt Elena will be wondering where I am."
"Sure, but don't disappear on me," Cynthia teased. "And call me if anything pops up. Give her my kisses and extend my mom's greetings too. She's been asking about her".
"Sure will do. Take care" I stood up, pausing to admire my friend.
I left the warmth of the restaurant for the chill of the late afternoon air. My steps were slower than usual, weighed down by thoughts of what the next minute might bring.
At home, Aunt Elena lay on the couch, a shawl draped over her frail shoulders. Her eyes met mine as I entered, holding a quiet sadness that tightened my chest.
"Mi niña," she said softly, patting the space beside her. "Sit." Okay? This had better be good.
I perched beside her, waiting.
"I have news," she began, voice trembling yet steady. "I have sold the shop."
The words struck me harder than I expected. "What? You can't be serious?"
I remembered the shop's early days. After my parents' death, we sold the house and paid for a smaller apartment and started a business. Aunt Elena woke up before dawn and made lovely Tortas, Tamales, Quesadillas, Churros and refreshing Aguas frescas. It was my go to place after a long day working about. It wasn't much, but it kept us afloat. Both financially and emotionally.
"Why?" My voice came out above a whisper
Her hands clasped mine. "When I fell ill, I had to close it, you know that. The shop needed care I can't give right now."
"Yeah, maybe. But selling it? I don't understand" I looked forlorn.
"I hoped to reopen someday. But… with part of the money I went for a checkup while you were out today,and the doctors said my illness has gotten worse. I need treatment, maybe surgery. The money from the sale of the shop will cover some rent and part of the bills, but only for a little while."
I fought back tears, the room closing in around me. The fight ahead suddenly sharper, more urgent.
"What is it? What did the doctor say you have? " I asked in a whisper.
"We'll get through this, don't be discouraged. It's only a phase it will pass," she whispered, her gaze steady. "Siempre."
"But I need to know, what's the thing they diagnosed you with. Please tell me" I insisted, meeting her eyes, "I'm an adult now. There's little you must hide from me. How can we get through this together if you don't tell me?" I said looking pleadingly into her eyes.
She exhaled slowly "It's called Liver cirrhosis" she said.
"Thank you for telling me. Go to bed Tía, I'll see you in the morning".
Later that night, I sat by the window, watching the streetlights flicker, and replaying my aunt's words in my head. The weight of Aunt Elena's words settled deep inside me. Then I went ahead to search up what the illness was all about and its symptom stages. Turns out she just entered the middle stages of this said disease. The symptoms checked out. Why didn't I realize this at the onset? Finding work wasn't just about survival anymore, it was about hope, about saving the woman who'd given me everything. I buried my face in my hands, forcing the tears back. Crying wouldn't fix this. That was a weakness, and I wasn't weak.
I wasn't.
Tomorrow, I'd start again. But this time, with fire in my heart and more purpose. I sent Cynthia a text telling her everything.