Candy Smokes

          “Your mother said it wouldn’t be easy. She told us this might happen,” said Eduardo. He wiped some off the sweat off of the highball glass, and the droplets off of the plastic patio table before he took a sip of his whiskey sour.

            Maria watched a sparrow fly to the sycamore tree ten yards out, and then gazed out past it, down the hill and over the valleys and small forests of the moraine.

            “That nest has babies in it, I think. I think the mom had a worm in her mouth. She’s been back and fourth a lot, but she finished the nest when we were here in April. I don’t want to go and check though; she might get upset if she catches me near it. I heard that if birds smell a human on their babies, they abandon the nest. I don’t know if that’s just an old wives’ tale, though. I could see that being a made-up story that people tell their children so that they leave bird nests alone.”

            She sipped her glass of wine.

            “It’s not like we had a choice. My mother – well and your parents, too – none of them would have let us go through with it.”

            “I know, Maria. And I… I don’t regret that we did. It’s just…”

            “We had the window, and the window closed, and he made it. It’s really a miracle the doctors could take him out of me and keep him alive all that time, long enough to still be alive now. You know? Isn’t that amazing, Eddie?”

            “It’s a miracle for sure. It’s God’s work.”

            “And you know, I don’t know if I agree with them. I don’t think that he won’t have a normal life. Define normal? What’s normal, Eddie? Who can be the judge of that? He’ll have some sort of life. Any sort of life is better than the alternative, right?”

            “I think so.”

            “I do too.”

            “It’s difficult though, we knew it would be.”

            “I know. But… why… why can’t we have more answers… is this a test, Eddie?”

            “This is watery now,” he said looking at his drink.

            Eduardo spoke loudly toward the man coming through the French doors and walking out toward the couple.

            “Can I have a scotch please?” he asked, gulping down the rest of his whiskey drink.

            “Make it a highland. Neat, please. And, double, make it a double.”

            “Yes sir. Anything for you, ma’am?”

            “No, I’m fine. Well, you know, one more glass of wine. Pinot grigio, please.”

            “Very good, I’ll be right back with that.”

            “I don’t know if it’s a test, Maria, or just the way things are. We’re all different. We’re all His children. Some of us aren’t born with the abilities of others, but that’s the same as everyone. Everyone is different. Look at Helen Keller, how big her heart was even though her eyes and ears didn’t work, or Stephen Hawking, contributing to physics and the intelligence of humankind despite his physical disabilities. You know? We all have challenges, this will just have to be his challenge, and he’ll have to live with it. That’s just it. That’s all.”

            “Here you are, your scotch and your pinot grigio.”

            “Thanks.”

            “Thank you.”

            “You’re quite welcome. Let me know if you need anything else, I’m right over here.”

            “Besides, the church wouldn’t have had any of it. They wouldn’t have allowed. We would have been as good as excommunicated, and you know that.”

            “Do you ever wonder what it’s going to be like when he’s old enough to realize. What are we going to tell him?”

            “We’re going to tell him what happened. And we’re going to be honest, Maria. For fuck’s sake, what do you think we should do?”

            “Don’t get mad at me, Eddie. Don’t take that tone.”

            “Well, it doesn’t have to be such a secret. There is no secret, it’s perfectly fine. It’s not like he did anything wrong.”

            “I know he didn’t do anything wrong! Don’t you dare suggest that was my intention. Don’t you dare.”

            “I’m sorry honey, I didn’t. I didn’t suggest that. All I’m saying is that we need to be honest with him. He’ll start to ask questions at first, I’m sure.”

            “Hopefully. Hopefully he’ll get to that point.”

            “Yes, hopefully. But he will. He will. And then we’ll sit him down and we’ll tell him that when he was inside of mommy, he was sick, that his kidneys weren’t working too well. And that God gave us the choice to take him out of mommy and put him on support, and have some surgeries done, or wait and see if he would come out if we left him in. And we’ll tell him that the doctors said he wouldn’t have made it if we left him in. And we’ll tell him that we saw a cross on the nurse’s neck across the room and we saw it as a sign from our Lord.”

            Eduardo took a long, deep sip of his scotch and sighed after. Maria watched the mother sparrow fly away from the sycamore tree.

            “How’s your wine?”

            “It’s good. It’s sweet, which I like. It was a good year. Do you like your scotch?”

            “Yes, it’s smooth. I don’t like scotches that have a strong peat or smoke flavor.”

            “We have different taste buds. I don’t knowhow you can drink the stuff.”

            Eduardo closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, feeling the summer sun against his face. Maria stared at him fondly, and when he opened his eyes again he noticed her.

            “We’ll have to tell him that he was on support for a very long time, which is why other kids might be bigger. He couldn’t learn anything on those machines, Eddie. Not even those basic motor functions.”

            “I know that, Maria. You think I don’t know that? Of course I know that.”

            “I never lost it though. I’ve never lost faith. I’ve always had my faith, even if this is a test, I have faith that He’ll get us through.”

            “That’s right. That’s what you need to remember.”

            “How… how do you think he’ll go to heaven, Eddie? Do you think in the end, whether it’s, God forbid, five years from now or fifty years from now –“

            “Well, he’s two now, and that’s a miracle. But yes, fifty more years would be a miracle. A fantastic miracle.”

            “I know! I know it would be! I was saying though, do you think he’ll go to heaven disabled? Or… slow or however you want to say it?”

            “I don’t know Maria. Who do I look like, our priest? I don’t know if Father Santo would know anyway, but I’ll tell you this much, however he goes to heaven, it’ll be a hell of a lot better than going to hell for being unable to rectify his sin. A hell of a lot!”

            He took a long slurp from his scotch, and let out a snort.

            “Eddie, he’s going to need kidney transplants every ten years. Poor little guy.”

            “Poor kid. It’ll be his challenge though. Not his test, his challenge. Life is a challenge, and he’ll have to live with it. We’ve been through this.”

            “I know honey. Everyone knows. You’re right; my mother said it would be difficult. We don’t have any insurance money left. I don’t think we’re ever going to be able to pay back all three million that we owe now to the hospital.”

            “It’ll take a miracle, and I think we’re all out of those. So, it’s better not to think about it right. It’s just better to live as well as we can, knowing it’s not going to change, and that’s that.”

             Maria finished her wine as Eduardo gulped down the last of his scotch, and stared off into the landscape together.

            “Eddie, you don’t think I had too much, do you? The doctor said that two glasses would be fine, and that’s all I had.”

            “Two glasses is fine, sweetie.”

            Maria’s chin quivered and her hand trembled as she set the wine glass down on the side table. They stood up, and she started crying.

            “I just don’t want to hurt her. He said she’s healthy and perfectly normal, and I want her to have a long, happy, healthy life with whoever is lucky enough to have her. I wish we could afford to keep her…”

            Eduardo leaned in to Maria and hugged her, rubbing her back slowly.

            “I know, Maria. Me too.”