"And I know there's warmth in families past their crooked open arms..." Why start off with such a (insert word of choice here) quote from a song? Well, because this chapter includes a very difficult task that Maria must preform. This chapter was named by Iwait4theRain; the title was inspired by a Paramore song. (gee, we get a lot of inspiration from music, don't we?) We thank our loyal army of reviewers: maddiekinzz, Penny L. Pingleton, and CouchPotato94.

p.s: the quote from the song in the beginning is "Rather Go" by Lucy Wainwright Roche. Good song, check it out.


The following morning was the day Maria had been dreading all week. She was sitting at the kitchen table and staring out the window for what seemed like hours. The only time she looked up was when Maribel came into the kitchen. The child rested her chin on the table and gazed up at her mother.

"Mommy what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong."

"Then why are you crying?"

Maria put a finger to her cheek and sighed. Maribel took the sigh as a cue for story time and crawled into her mother's lap. Maria absentmindedly began to twist Maribel's hair into a loose braid, as if the task would take away from the pain in the words she was about to say.

"Maribel, you know how sometimes you and Rose do things that Daddy and I don't like?"

"Yeah." Maribel nodded her head, strongly agreeing.

"Well, I once did something that my Mommy and Daddy didn't like."

"Really? I didn't think grown ups could do those kinds of things."

"Everyone makes mistakes. Even grown ups."

"But you told them sorry didn't you? Like what the teacher tells us we have to do at school?"

"No, I didn't tell them sorry. But I am today."

Maribel gazed up at Maria with her wide blue eyes. They were full of so much innocence, so much hope. Maria wanted to keep that innocence in her daughter's eyes; she wanted to keep it both of her daughters' eyes.

"Good. Because that's the nice thing to do." Maribel reached into her pocket and pulled out a yellow ribbon. She handed it to Maria, who didn't care to know what else Maribel kept hidden in her pockets.

"It is the nice thing to do. So maybe you'll start telling your sister sorry, huh?"

"I don't know Mommy. Rose can be very annoying."

"Maribel." Maria tied the ribbon into a bow and dropped a kiss to Maribel's head.

"Fine. I'll start telling Rose sorry. And maybe I'll even stop being mean to her so then I won't have to tell her sorry."

"That sounds like a good plan."

Maribel crawled down from Maria's lap and headed for the hallway.

"Maribel where are you going?"

"To tell Rose I'm sorry for all the stuff I've done to her."

Maribel continued down the hall and only paused to say good morning to her father. When Tony reached the kitchen, he smiled at Maria.

"Morning."

"Good morning."

Maria's eyes went back to the window; the rainy weather matched how she felt. Tony pulled a chair away from the table and rested his hands on top of Maria's.

"Hey, everything is going to be fine."

"You say that now."

"Maria, now you know we had to get to this day sometime. And the sooner the better."

"I know. But…"

"But what? Maria, if not for you, do it for the girls. And this one."

Tony reached across the table and placed a hand on Maria's stomach.

"You're right. I just…"

"Just what? Hate to admit I'm right?"

"Maybe."

Maria looked up at Tony and smiled. Maribel appeared from down the hall, pulling Rose by her feet. When she got to the kitchen, Maribel dropped her sister to the ground.

"I got Rose to brush her teeth."

A very unhappy Rose got up from the floor and glared at Maribel.

"I told you! I can brush my teeth myself!"

"But Rose! I wanna be nice to you today! Do you need help with anything else? Can I help you get dressed? Can I…"

"NO! Go away!"

Rose ran down the hall as Maribel chased after her, still offering help to her sister.

"I tell you Maria, I never thought I'd see the day the two of them fighting over being nice to each other."

"I know. I guess everyone is making a change for the better today."


"It's okay Maria; everything will be alright." Anita tried her very best to console Maria.

"You don't know that," Maria argued.

"Oh Maria, you sound like a child!" Anita laughed.

"It's not funny, Anita! Maybe we should go back and make sure the children are alright."

"I'm sure they are doing just fine with Rosalia." Anita rolled her eyes. Maria slowed her pace, trying to waste as much time as possible. She looked over at Tony, who looked equally, if not more nervous.

"Tony? Are you alright?"

Tony's face was very pale and he kept fidgeting like someone who was experiencing cocaine withdrawal. "What?" Tony's head snapped up. "Oh yeah, I'm fine." His voice cracked and Anita stifled a laugh.

"Well, here's the building. Come on," Anita said as she ushered a zombie-like Tony and Maria up the stairs to apartment 311. Maria clutched Tony's arm as Anita reached out to knock on the door.

"It's alright," he reassured her. Footsteps and a few quick words in Spanish were heard before the door opened to reveal a small, older woman who could not be more than 5'1. Her cheeks were red and tears dotted the corners of her eyes.

"Maria," she said, pulling Maria into a tight embrace.

"Mama." Maria managed through her equally red cheeks and flowing tears. The door opened wider to reveal a tall, older man. His eyes were thankful when he looked at Anita. When he looked at Tony, his eyes expressed nothing but sadness.

"Come, come," the woman finally said when she managed to let go of Maria. They were led inside to a small living room where they all managed to sit down. Maria noticed nothing had changed much about the space; with the exception of some pictures of Carlos and to Maria's surprise, her own children, on the mantle. Tony kept a limp arm around Maria, fearing that if he showed too much affection, her parents, namely her father, would disapprove of him even more.

"Tony, this is Miguel, Maria's father. And this is Carlotta, Maria's mother," Anita explained to Tony. Miguel managed a head nod in Tony's direction. Miguel didn't seem like a man of many words, but Tony was still very intimidated.

"Hello," Tony said quietly and uncomfortably.

"Te miran, Maria. Eres tan bella." Carlotta smiled. She then smiled at Tony. Tony returned the gesture but quickly looked away.

"Gracias, Mama." Maria wiped her eyes. After a few moments of silence, Miguel spoke.

"How are you Maria?"

"Good. Gracias, Papa."

"That is good, that is very good. And how have the last six years been for you?" Miguel asked in a tone that could kill.

"Miguel!" Carlotta gasped. Maria gaped at her father, having a sudden loss for words.

"Lo sientio Carlotta." Miguel then turned to Maria and pointed a finger at her. "But I just cannot help wondering how you have spent these past six years living a happy life all the while knowing that you have put your mother and I through hell!" Miguel rose and towered over Maria.

"Miguel, por favor!" Carlotta tried weakly. Yes, they had every right to be angry at Maria, but Carlotta wanted to put that all behind her and start over. She had already lost one child, she didn't want to lose another.

"No! Must I remind you of the countless nights you spent crying over her? Must I remind you of the pain she put us through?" Miguel was red-faced and his voice became terribly loud.

"But you don't understand!"

"What don't I understand Maria? That you turned your back on your family and left when we needed you the most?"

"Papa, lo siento!" Tears ran down Maria's cheeks again. But not out of happiness this time, but out of pure fear. Tony rose and clenched his jaw. Tony wished he could just show Miguel the better life he'd given to Maria.

"NO! YOU ARE NOT SORRY! YOU RAN OFF WITH THIS STUPID AMERICAN, AND…"

"You sound exactly like Bernardo," Anita said, just barely audible. Everybody froze and the room became deathly quiet. All eyes were on Anita.

"W-what?" Miguel whispered.

"You sound exactly like Bernardo. Can't you hear him screaming like that? You sound exactly like he would. The only difference is, Bernardo would be proud that his little sister got out." Anita's voice was so scolding. Miguel sat down and buried his head in his hands.

"Bernardo, mi hijo. Ay mi pobre hijo," he sobbed. Maria got up and hesitantly put her hand on her father's shoulder.

"Lo siento, Maria. Te amo." Miguel hugged his daughter tightly. "Tony" Miguel walked to him, "I am very, very sorry. I love you too, mi hijo." Tony had never been called "son" before. He found that he liked it.

"Gracias." Tony smiled.