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Sandra
by April Vazquez ...won't leave Manolo in peace. I mean, she absolutely won't let him go. Everyone knows it's over--it's been over for more than a year--but here she is, like a case of head lice that you can't get rid of. Imagine what it took to come here, a country away from everything you're used to, following someone who doesn't even love you anymore. She just won't accept that it's over. She thinks he'll take her back. That's her deal, to hold on so tenaciously, for so long, that eventually she'll wear him down, she'll tire him out, she'll win him back. That's why she's all sí, señora this and no, señora that, but you should've seen how she treated my mother-in-law in the past. Didn't you hear about the roses? Well, la doña was visiting them allá, en el norte, it's probably been five years ago now. My mother-in-law was helping out around the house, doing some straightening, cooking Manolo his favorite foods. You know la doña, she doesn't like to be without something to do. So one day while Manolo and Sandra were both at work, to be helpful she trimmed the rosebush and snipped the heads off the dead roses so they'd come back pretty in the spring. (Wouldn't it be awful to live in a place where everything stays dead for months? And the cold! Bone-chilling. Of course, I suppose there are other advantages--the money, you know. But when I got back home after my one visit, I absolutely kissed the soil of Mexico. I literally did! I'd never go back, not for any amount of dolares. And thank God Osvaldo is home for good this time too.) Anyway, when Sandra got home and saw the rosebush she threw one more temper tantrum, that my mother-in-law was killing her flowers, that she was ruining everything in her house, and on and on, screaming and ranting, and la pobre doña without the faintest idea of what was being said--she knows about as much English as I do, which is cero--but guessing that it must be about her. Sandra said that if she could only put together a thousand dollars to rent herself an apartment she would've already gone. And do you know what that loco Osvaldo did? He pulled two thousand dollars out of his wallet and laid them down on the table and asked her, "Will this help?" Well, that really did get her started, that they were trying to get rid of her! She was always jealous of la doña, you know. You know what kind of son Manolo is, calling every day, sending money regularly… pues, he's just a saint, Manolo is. And I guess Sandra wanted him all to herself. She had a pretty good run too, him keeping her up for thirteen years. And for some of that time he was supporting her daughter too. Oh yes, Tiffani's her name. She's about grown now, but she lived with them--oh, I don't know, I'd say five years, off and on. Poor thing, her mother had farmed her out to some aunt on the father's side until Manolo said she could come and live with them. But I don't think she could tolerate her mother for long at a stretch. It was the girl who called the police on Sandra. Didn't you know? Sandra just absolutely went on a rampage, dear, it was a year ago in March. Tiffani got home from school one day and found her mother in the backyard burning Manolo's clothes in the firepit. She'd smashed every one of his truck windows with a baseball bat, broken his DVDs and cologne bottles. She had the house smelling like a perfume factory! The place was absolutely turned upside down from one end to the other. The girl took one look around, locked herself in her room, and called the police. The next morning she was on a bus back to her aunt's in Brownsville. Of course, they hauled Sandra off to a psychiatric institution. Imagine Manolo coming home from working all day and witnessing that scene! What's that? Why, nothing, dear! They hadn't quarreled; nothing out of the ordinary at all. When Manolo left for work that morning, everything was completely normal. He has no idea to this day why she did it. But it put an end to things, at least. He'd tried to break it off before then, but she wouldn't let him. This time she had no choice. They made some kind of a deal, though, when she was in the asylum. Someone had to sign to get her out of there, so he signed. The understanding was that she'd be looking for a new place to live… only she didn't keep up her end of the bargain. She kept working on him to take her back, to give her another chance. It was over, of course--don't think there was any of that going on; they slept in separate bedrooms. But she just wouldn't accept it. You almost feel sorry for her. I mean, here she is, forty-five years old, and I can't imagine she was ever pretty, even in her prime. She's got nothing, no home of her own, no husband--oh no, he never married her--and no kind of relationship with her daughter . And now she's here, in Mexico! Still chasing after Manolo, and he can't stand the sight of her. Can you keep something to yourself, dear? Osvaldo tells me Manolo's got another woman--a good woman, Colombian, with a little boy who absolutely idolizes Manolo. And she's young enough so that he could still be a father. Sandra had had an operation, years ago, so that was impossible with her. What? No, of course he wasn't seeing the woman before! They only got together afterward, once it was over with Sandra. This is a good woman, and Manolo…well, everyone knows that Manolo's a saint. |
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