Josefina Read online

  Previous Works

  As Tara Newlands

  The Dream King

  Nirvana

  Winter and Spring

  As Marina Cross

  Tia’s Red Dress

  Daniel

  JOSEFINA

  BY

  TARA NEWLANDS

  Josefina

  A Whispers Publishing Publication

  September 2011

  Copyright © 2011 Tara Newlands

  Cover illustration copyright © 2011 Anastasia Rabiyah

  ISBN Not Assigned

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system-except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the Web-without permission in writing from the publisher.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  Published by: Whispers Publishing, P.O. Box 1165, Ladson, SC 29456-1165.

  Dedication

  For Lupe

  Chapter One

  Goddamn it! She took the corner onto her street too fast. Her eyes felt blurry with unshed tears as she moved closer to home.

  Oh, she burned, really fumed as she pulled her four door mini-van up in the driveway, climbing out of her car and shutting it with a resounding slam.

  Sookie Verdugo, now Springfield, gave an honestly annoyed grunt as she noted her afternoon paper had been thrown into mud yet again without a plastic covering.

  She picked it up, murmuring, “I’m going to cancel this damn thing.”

  Still mumbling under her breath about thoughtless people, Sookie walked into her family’s four bedroom colonial home.

  Her journey toward love, coupled with a new day, took her far away from a distant warm New Mexico desert sun, under which she’d always lived, to Seattle, a punishing habitat where water ruled.

  Adjusting to her new life had not been easy, but nothing worth having ever is.

  Sookie tossed her keys onto the counter, took off her heavy wool coat, and threw it carelessly aside as she flopped down on her bright tan sofa with a sigh.

  Damn that Phillip to the hot zone, he’d gotten under her skin again.

  When was he going to give her a break?

  He constantly tried to get her goat about something. Today’s fiasco was over Citycore’s quarterly reports. What would it be next time he didn’t like the way she breathed? Ever since he’d started working at Citycore, Phillip been nothing but cool to her.

  She hadn’t been able to figure it out until today. However, now she had. She’d been steamed up, thinking about it ever since she’d left the office.

  Tall, fit with pepper grey hair, Phillip never seemed to take to her, although she continued to receive decent performance reviews. However, the rare smiles he did give her didn’t quite settle in his eyes. Tolerance, without a doubt, was the model he handled her with.

  She could see him in her mind’s eyes handing her a phone message about her mother phoning during their finance department’s afternoon meeting. She could still hear his covertly patronizing voice loudly say, “Your maiden name is Verdugo? Are you from Mexico?”

  His words were spoken with such surprise it made her seated male co-workers give barks of laughter as she’d said softly, “No, my mother is.”

  He’d proceeded with a joke holding no mirth, “Well, that’s okay ‘cause your group makes some damn fine eats. We’ll forgive you this time,” which he’d quickly filled in with, “Let’s get back to work, everyone.”

  Sookie had read her mother’s message. Urgent, please call me, while inside silently slapping the arrogant foolish look off her new boss’s face. As the only woman on Phillip Hoffman’s multi-million dollar finance team, Sookie had taken her fair share of hard knocks as a woman with brown skin continuing her climb to the top of a sometimes curving corporate ladder.

  Even so, Phillip’s joke today struck a nerve.

  Over these years, she’d fashioned herself into a formidable business woman, taking on the tasks Seattle’s land presented her with, from its weather to its twin-twined issues of sexism and racism, which at times proved hard. Nevertheless, for a split second, listening to Phillip’s condescending remarks shook her confidence and left her feeling as small as his smile seemed to want her to feel.

  Shaking out her long, dark brown hair while absentmindedly finger-combing it away from her face, Sookie considered just where life was taking her.

  With everything going on between her and her Dennis recently, she didn’t need more trouble. An unexplained off, then on emotional distance between them made her heart ache. They’d been together for almost ten good years, facing challenges of mortgage payments, two children and their own approaching autumn years. Sookie stared up at white wavy lines painted on the ceiling above her head, noticing a small crack running along its northern edge.

  What changed to make them distant strangers sharing a bed? It seemed she and the love of her youth were two adults now who didn’t seem to remember a time before heavy responsibilities began overshadowing their busy lives. Sometimes, the only way they interacted with each other came through half murmured sentences, paired with fleeting glances when he’d go out the door, or she’d be coming in.

  She knew she shouldn’t sit here brooding about it. Dennis and her boys were due to come home soon.

  Sookie stood up on tired, sore feet, kicking off her high heeled shoes. She picked them up, holding them carelessly in one hand as she walked toward her bedroom. Placing the shoes gently into the closet she shared with Dennis, she sat down quietly before her mirror on the dresser, looking reflectively into its polished surface. Her dark, short length hair shone, highlighting her eyes. A mix of her African and Latino parentage still sparkled, while her curves, full, yet lean, continued to fill out her crisp white tailored shirt.

  She was in ‘life’s prime time’’ as the western society always said. However, Dennis didn’t seem to want her anymore. This continuing loneliness, plus distance in what should be their happy marriage bed, made her profoundly sad.

  Reaching for the phone next to her bed, Sookie dialed her mother’s house.

  Beep, beep, ring, then the click of connected long distance as the receiver lifted on the receiving end.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Mom. It’s me.”

  “Ah, Sookie. How are you, Mija?”

  “I’m fine, Mama. You said you needed to talk to me.”

  “Sookie—” A pregnant pause settled briefly on the line. “Your Nana’s died.”

  Sookie met her own surprised eyes in the mirror. “When?”

  “Last night.” Her mother sounded tired, sad.

  “Mama, I’m so sorry.”

  “I know, Sookie. Nevertheless, she’s not struggling anymore. So, I guess it’s a good thing.”

  She couldn’t get her mind around it. Josefina had gone, gone. “I don’t know what to say, Mom.”

  “Her mass is this Friday. I was wondering if you could come home, Sookie.”

  “Si, Mama.” Sookie ran her fingers through her hair as she rested her chin in the palm of her hand. “Dennis and I will be there as soon as we can.”

  Anna’s voice sounded reed thin when she replied, “Good. Como hace usted?”

  How was she doing? Sookie’s mind swam with memories of Josefina, barrio Santa Cruz and times past.

  “I’m fine, Mom.”

  “And Dennis and the kids?”

  “They a
re doing good. Kevin is cutting a tooth. Mario is starting the band next year.”

  “It will be good to see them, even if it’s for a sad day.”

  They talked briefly about what needed to be done, where mass preparations would take place. After a twenty-minute conversation, they rang off.

  Devoid of all noise inside and out, Sookie stood in an almost robotic fashion, walking to her bed on wooden feet. Then, without purpose or direction, suddenly feeling weirdly frozen inside, she stopped in mid-motion and stood oddly still, staring out the open curtains of her upstairs window, remembering Josefina and the life she had put behind her.

  Chapter Two

  She and Lolo, her sister, had always been the strange ones in their family.

  Their skin was a bit darker than their primos, their hair thicker, and a lot less easy to manage. Needless to say, the two girls stuck out at times in their close-knit barrio ‘Santa Cruz’ in metro New Mexico like dark mulberry wine in slightly lighter amber cream. Sookie’s nana, Josefina Verdugo, often said to the girls’ mother, Anna, that she braided their hair to look like rats’ tails.

  Her image still remained fresh in Sookie’s mind. A woman of intense expression and fiery red hair, Josefina lived a colorful, tragic life.

  She couldn’t understand why her daughter, Anna, married a black man and mothered two darker brown-skinned kids. However, her feelings were to be expected, for she was throughout it all a child of the early nineteen hundreds.

  “Ah, que feo,” she used to say, seeing Sookie and Lolo with hair twisted, braided, held back into dozens of the tight long braids to mirror early 1980s coloured style.

  * * * *

  Downstairs, a key turned in the door lock, followed by a flurry of moving feet. Laughing voices drifted up to her, announcing entrance of her brood arriving home. Quickly, she began to change into her favorite worn sweatshirt, pairing it with a comfy pair of jeans as Dennis’ voice floated up to her from the bottom of the stairs. “Sookie, we’re home.”

  “Hi, honey. I’ll be down in a minute!”

  Brushing thoughts of Josefina aside for a moment, she walked slowly down to greet her man.

  Mario and Kevin were already in the midst of setting up the Wii. They started to bicker as Mario said in annoyance, “Mom, Kevin’s trying to make me play that stupid monkey game again!”

  “Mario, can you give your mother a proper greeting for once?”

  He blushed slightly, giving her a kiss on her cheek before turning back to his brother with, “Kevin, it’s my turn!”

  She smiled, leaving them to it as she made for the kitchen. She gave a gentle laugh out loud while she continued surveying Seattle’s endless grey skies. “Hey there, it looks like it’s going to be another wet night.”

  Dennis turned to her and nodded, while continuing to go through the morning mail.

  “Well, how was your day?”

  Absentmindedly, he replied, “It was all right. Todd and I have gotten confirmation of the Macpeterson job.”

  She cast admiring eyes over how he’d kept himself firm and fit all these years. His dark brown hair, closely cut, suited the shadowy angled planes and hollows on his face while his shoulders appeared as broad and wide as when they married. He still had a backside that just wouldn’t quit.

  “Honey, that’s great news.” She walked over to him, leaning against the granite edge of their kitchen countertop.

  “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

  “Sure thing, honey. I’m listening.” He didn’t look at her.

  This singular attention non-attention made her furious.

  Sweeping out one hand, she furiously pulled the unread letter from his hand.

  “God damn it, Dennis, will you look at me! I need to talk to you.”

  Incredulous, with his mouth slightly agape, he replied, “God, Sookie! I said I’m listening.”

  “Josefina died last night.”

  Her words, said simply enough, caused tears to burst from her eyes. She’d never been fond of crying, preferring to cover her emotional responses behind her impersonal mask. Nothing, nothing got to her because she’d always been in control. Carving out her life during her college years, she’d even been dubbed ‘the Latina cold queen.’

  Nevertheless, her control slipped now as tears she’d tried to control spilled from her eyes, remembering connections that were no more.

  “I’m sorry, Sookie,” Dennis whispered softly, his voice betraying his surprise. “I’ve never seen you cry.”

  She sighed, feeling like her emotional bloodletting was more than she could bear. Then his arms were around her. It was where she wanted to be. He didn’t say anything as tears continued to fall unchecked from her eyes. A blur of quickly moving footsteps echoed down the hallway. And her legs were suddenly embraced by two different pairs of small arms.

  “Mommy, why you sad?” Kevin asked, his voice high.

  She looked down at her boys with blurry eyes, loving her soon-to-be men more than she ever had before.

  “Nana Josefina’s gone to heaven.”

  Mario, understanding how deep a moment it was, turned to his younger brother to say, “Come on, Kevin,” and tugged at his arm gently. “I’ll let you play your monkey game. Mom and Dad need to talk.” Kevin, about to protest, brightened immediately. Her oldest son turned to her to say gently, “I’m sorry, Mom.”

  “I know, baby.”

  Her eyes met Dennis’. “That kid always did have a way of understanding a situation,” he said gently. Taking her hand, he carefully sat her down, kneeling at her feet.

  “Tell me what you need me to do, honey.”

  He hadn’t called her honey in so long she was more than a little surprised he’d said it. “I don’t know,” she responded, for she honestly couldn’t get her mind around what she needed.

  “Well for now, let me get you a drink, and I’ll help cook dinner tonight.”

  He began to move around the kitchen, opening cabinets and turning on the coffee pot. The soothing familiarly in his movements helped her begin to relax for the first time all day. “I’m sorry to be so emotional. It’s just it’s already been a tough day and now this.”

  “Never be sorry for honest emotion, baby. I take it Patrick struck again?”

  “Yes, but today it was the worst it’s been.”

  “That guy is a dick,” he said, coming back to her, holding a steaming cup of her favorite peppermint tea.

  “My mother called in the middle of a meeting, and he jumped on a chance to highlight my Mexican heritage.”

  “That little shit.”

  “I know. He didn’t come right out and say ‘wetback’. Nevertheless, he tried to imply it.”

  “I’m so sorry, baby. No one should treat you like that.” He sat down, taking her hand in his. “I can punch him out if you’d like,” he said hopefully.

  Affection and pride gathered in her because he was as he’d been on their marriage day, a man who still wanted to rise to her defense.

  “That’s not necessary,” she replied, chuckling softly. “I guess it just took me back to the first time I heard someone say those words.”

  Dennis leaned forward, looking deeply into her eyes, saying nothing as she added, “Damn, you’ve always known I could be a real pistol.”

  “Yes, it’s what drew me to you when we first met.”

  “Well you know when I lived in Santa Cruz, everyone knew everyone else’s business. But my mom, she always seemed to be trying to shelter me and Lolo from things.”

  As she began to talk, Sookie drifted back along memory roads she hadn’t traveled on for a long time.

  * * * *

  What a decade the 1980s had been. It was really more about surviving strangely-colored fashion victims, baggy rapper pants, too many hair gels and punk dog collars. It was where Sookie lived her younger life.

  She loved her mother’s family, even through the turbulence of its continual struggles and strife. A strange, yet hearty mix of American cleverness
and native Mexican unity was what they were.

  Their passions, up and down temperaments, and fire was all that she knew about family while growing up.

  At the center of it all was where she still saw Josefina: the strong-willed, furiously intense yet oftentimes vulnerable matriarch.

  As a girl, she remembered family carne asadas, listening to Volver, Volver by a once famous Mexican crooner and everyone singing, listening, remembering, calling and lamenting about lost love. Soft sunlight, drifting gently down in those western skies during those endless nights with lazy days.

  Sookie could feel herself smile, seeing them and, yes, herself dancing, laughing and even arguing while that song played. That intense, passionate song continued to be an anthem to generations of all kinds of the lost and departed who could never be and shouldn’t be forgotten.

  “I still see my mom’s family listening to songs, Dennis. We’d party every weekend together. The drink would flow while we’d eat and dance, giving mournful cries, keeping time with Vicente Fernandez’s songs. It was nuts at times. Josefina would sit quietly, watching all of us under those New Mexico skies her family moved forward to into the future on lightly swaying feet.”

  Chapter Three

  Now as she gazed at Dennis, she wondered how many times Josefina faced her own demons alone while she’d luckily found someone to love.

  She could feel her face soften, looking at him, thinking of how his entrance into her life changed everything. Although she raged at him at times for his sometimes steady way, she loved him dearly for giving her so many things she never knew she really needed.

  He’d taught her clear difference between want and need. It hadn’t been an easy journey from a slightly mistrustful, yet strong willed woman to a learning, growing and still strong-willed wife. Before him, she’d indeed been more a hellion, often wanting her own way, a true kindred soul to the woman just departed from the earth.