CHAPTER 98
Teresa's POV
The day was a long one and it was not without trial and tribulation – for both Ricardo and myself. For him to 'walk a mile in my shoes', I had suggested he take on a number of my regular household tasks that would have taken me but a few hours to complete, but took Ricardo the rest of the day and most of the evening to finish. At least, finish to my satisfaction.
He attempted to 'trade' some of the tasks I'd given him and instead suggested that he make me dinner, but I would hear none of it, saying I absolutely could not – would not – interfere in his covenant with God. I left him vacuuming the living room carpet and retreated to my kitchen. However, before I could even begin dinner, I had to wash each surface with bleach and rewash the pots, pans and utensils.
Later that evening, as bedtime neared, I feigned a slight cough and suggested Ricardo sleep in the boys' room, just until I was 'feeling better.' I missed sleeping next to my husband and I missed his amorous love-making, but I was still a little angry at him and not ready to forgive him completely. This 'milking' was helping my anger subside though, and it was fun – please forgive me, Lord.
I found a clean pair of his pajamas and took them into the boys' room. I hadn't done much to redecorate the room since Alejandro had moved out years ago, when he married Carolina. Mainly now, just the grandkids used it when they slept over and I did some of my craftwork in there. I turned down one of the beds and laid Ricardo's pajamas on the pillow. The wastebasket was full so I picked it up to empty it. Lying on top was a stiff piece of paper torn from what looked like an artist's sketch pad. On it was a beautiful pencil sketch of a flower – an iris. It was delicately drawn and worthy of framing. Had one of the grandkids done this?
Ricardo stuck his head in the room and when he saw what I was holding, he snatched it from my hands, saying, "Do not bother with that. It is nothing!" And then he crumpled it up, tossing it back in the wastebasket.
"Ricardo, that was a beautiful sketch. Was that yours?" I asked, trying to fathom my practical husband spending his time on what I would have thought he'd consider a frivolous waste of time.
"It was just a doodle… to pass the long evening hours alone," he dismissed my inquiry with a wave of his hand. He took the trashcan from me saying he would empty it and take the trash out to the curb before he turned in for the night.
Puzzled at his odd behavior, I returned to my bedroom and got ready for bed. It would be nice to sleep in my own room and bathe again in my own tub, with my things around me. And knowing Ricardo was just in the next room comforted me.
The next morning was more of the same. I knew Ricardo would be working at Rosa's later that day, but until then, he was mine, all mine. He still seemed eager to make amends and after I had him do the dusting – twice, and wash the front picture window (it wasn't all that dirty, but I just couldn't resist), he bravely attempted to do the piles of laundry that had built up in my absence. I made certain none of my garments were in the pile and then I gave him step by step instructions on stain removal and proper loading of the washing machine. He hung in there, bless his heart, and got through several loads without ruining anything. Ironing was another matter altogether, though. He scorched several of his shirts, not to mention his fingers, and could not seem to get the hang of spray starch. I thought back to all his years of picky criticism over my handling of his clothes and that steeled my resolve not to let him off easy, as I was tempted to do.
When the phone rang, I thought of making Ricardo answer it. I was just lounging on the couch idly looking at Christmas catalogs while he did my household chores. I also had him running back and forth between the living room and the kitchen bringing me hot tea – ostensibly to soothe my sore throat – and making me some of his delicious appetizers. I decided making him answer the phone might be pushing it a bit too far.
The call was from Pilar. She'd heard I'd returned home again – she must have talked to her aunt or grandmother – and she expressed her pleasure that I'd made up with her father. Then my outspoken daughter got right to the point. She said she needed to take her eldest son Eduardo to the emergency room and asked if I could watch the younger kids for a few hours. My rambunctious grandson had dislocated his shoulder while playing soccer and was in pain. Pilar did not want to take her two youngest children to the hospital explaining they seemed to pick up any 'bug' that was going around. With a wicked gleam in my eye, I told her I'd be thrilled to have a visit from my grandchildren.
A few minutes later, Pilar pulled up to the house. I went out and joined her as she took baby Hugo from his car seat. I stuck my head in the passenger window and kissed Eduardo on the cheek, sympathizing with his pain. Pilar then handed me Hugo and helped her daughter from her car seat. This precious toddler was my namesake and, while she was a beautiful child, she was also headstrong and extremely independent. I loved her dearly. She was still in diapers and resisting her parents' efforts at potty training. She and her brother were the perfect 'guests' for my plans this morning. With baby Hugo tucked safely on my hip and the diaper bag slung over my shoulder, I took the small hand of little Teresa, or Teri as she was called, and we strolled up the walk as Pilar drove Eduardo to the ER.
Ricardo met us at the front door, exclaiming, "What is this? Why did Pilar just drive away? You shouldn't be caring for our grandchildren with your illness."
I explained the emergency and handed the baby to Ricardo. My husband loved his children and grandchildren, but only in small doses, very small doses. It would be interesting to see how he dealt with these two handfuls of ever-moving bundles of energy.
"You are right, Ricardo," I agreed. "Since I am under the weather, I would hate to have the children catch whatever is bothering me. I relinquish their care into your capable hands."
With that said, I placed Teri's tiny hand in Ricardo's large one and sauntered back over to the couch. As I tucked my blanket around me, I wondered if I was pushing my husband too far. But then, his hurtful words of that awful night came back to me and his angry face, suffused with red, flashed before my eyes. My resolve to stay the course hardened.
Ricardo stood in the doorway with the two children, looking bewildered and a little scared.
"Teresa, this is not a good idea," Ricardo whined. "I have the restaurant tonight and…" He sighed and brought the little ones into the living room.
I coughed lightly, covering my mouth – and my smile – with my hand. Ricardo looked at me with such a look of concern, I almost felt sorry for him, almost. He sighed again and said, "I will call Alejandro and see if he can manage Rosa's today. I will stay home and take care of you and… our grandchildren. It is the right thing to do."
I was shocked. I was only hoping for an hour or so more of Ricardo's time before he had to leave for the restaurant. He'd never let anything interfere with his work at Rosa's before. For Ricardo to stay home the rest of the day to care for his grandchildren… for him to make this concession for me…
Now, I was the one humbled. The changes I was seeing in him were real, not just token acts so his life would go back to normal. My heart softened and filled with love for my dear husband.
However, if Ricardo thought he'd already walked a full mile in my shoes, he had another thought coming. As he took off the children's winter coats, I pointed to the basket full of toys under the coffee table. Ricardo set Teri and baby Hugo in front of the toy basket and left the room to call Alejandro. The children played happily for a few minutes or so and then Teri took a toy away from Hugo and the screams and waterworks started. From then on out, Ricardo was kept running from one child to the other.
After a mere two hours of chasing after an active toddler and a crawling baby, Ricardo was exhausted. Hugo had finally curled up into a ball under the coffee table and was fast asleep. Ricardo collapsed in his recliner and immediately Teri crawled into his lap.
She snuggled against his chest, looked up at him and said, "I pottied, Papi." Ricardo looked blankly at his granddaughter and then over at me. She repeated her refrain louder, "I pottied." She was now fidgeting in his lap and he finally got the message as the unmistakable smell hit his nostrils.
The cost of one diaper: twenty cents. The cost of a couple of baby wipes and a shake of baby powder: maybe five cents. The look on my dear husband's face: priceless.
Now, if you ask Ricardo he will proudly tell you that we – he and I, that is – raised six beautiful, healthy children. But the sad fact is Ricardo was rarely home and he never, and I mean never, changed one of the many thousands of diapers his six children went through. And today, he was finally going to walk a few very stinky, messy steps in my shoes.
He held his squirming granddaughter under her arms, moving her off his lap and holding her away from him. He cut his eyes to me and cried, "I can't do this. She's a little girl. It would be… improper. You have to do it."
"Relax, Ricardo. You're her grandfather. It's nothing you haven't seen before. Even the child's own father changes her when necessary. The diapers and baby wipes are in the bag Pilar left. Just make sure you use the toddler-sized diapers and not the ones for Hugo."
I coughed into my hand a few times and tried to look weak. "You wouldn't want your grandchildren to get sick, would you?" I turned back to watch my telenovela. Well, I only pretended to watch it. The drama happening right now in my living room was much more entertaining.
My little granddaughter started to cry and I almost gave in, but this particular act of Penance was too good to stop. I did take pity on Teri and gave Ricardo some pointers. "There's a plastic mat in the diaper bag. You'll definitely want to use that under her."
I pointed to the coffee table as Ricardo let Teri down. He opened the diaper bag and found the mat. After spreading it out on the table, he pulled out several diapers until he found the larger ones. I reminded him about the wipes and the powder. He laid everything out on the table and then stared at his weeping granddaughter, standing just out of his grasp.
He tried coaxing her, "Mi niña, come here." She shook her head. "Venga aquí!" he repeated a little louder in Spanish.
Shouting loudly, Teri exercised her 'terrible two' voice, crying, "NO!"
Impatiently, Ricardo picked her up and laid her on the mat. She started screaming. He tried shushing, then pleading with her, all to no avail. I knew more screaming would be next, only it wouldn't be Teri doing the screaming. I couldn't stand by and let him scare her to death.
Reaching into the toy basket, I pulled out her favorite stuffed animal, a Precious Pony. As soon as she had it in her arms, she quieted down and watched her grandfather struggle with her clothing. She looked over at me and I grinned, made a goofy face and pointed at Ricardo. She was a smart child and got into the spirit of things.
Teri stuck out her tongue and told him, "Papi's a poopy." I let out a loud chuckle and that sent her into gales of giggles and of course, she squirmed all over the place.
"Teresa Isabel," Ricardo said, looking sternly at her, "You must stay still or I cannot change your… this." He shook the clean diaper in her face. She just laughed. She finally settled down and after many tries, he figured out how to take off the dirty diaper.
I couldn't help but laugh again at the look of absolute horror on his face as he held the offending bit of material as far from his body and nose as he could. He dashed into the kitchen holding the used diaper as if it might explode at any moment. I reached over and tickled my granddaughter's tummy while he was gone. He and I would have to have a talk later about never leaving a baby alone on a table.
When Ricardo returned, he kneeled in front of the coffee table and our granddaughter, and then looked helplessly at me for instruction.
For Teri's sake, I relented. "Use the wipes to clean her and finish with a little sprinkle of baby powder. Then put on the new diaper and put her pants back on. It isn't rocket science, dear."
He gingerly used the first wipe and then realized he didn't have any receptacle to dispose of the now smelly, gooey cloth. Delicately folding the mess in on itself, he placed the offending wipe on the corner of the mat and proceeded to use a dozen more wipes. Two or three would have been sufficient. After shaking a huge amount of baby powder on Teri's tush, he looked over at me triumphantly.
I gave him an encouraging look. "Now the clean diaper," I said. I wished I had videotaped this. If the fate of our world depended on my husband quickly changing a diaper, we were all doomed. It took him at least five minutes to figure out which way it went and another five to figure out how to fasten the little pieces of tape. By that time, our little girl had had enough and she scooted herself to the edge of the table.
"But we still have to put your pants on, mi niña," Ricardo told her.
"NO!" she yelled and put up her hands in the classic 'pick me up' gesture. Ricardo looked at me and I nodded. He set her down on the floor and she was happy as a clam, playing with her pony.
Hugo woke up and crawled over to his grandpa, all smiles. Ricardo lifted his grandson up and held him in the crook of his arm. The children had behaved wonderfully for Ricardo, too good in fact. I'd hoped for a little more chaos as our curious and energetic grandchildren 'double-timed' their inexperienced grandfather.
"Uh-oh!" Ricardo uttered. He had that surprised but unpleasant look on his face as Hugo squirmed against his chest.
"Wet diaper?" I asked.
Ricardo closed his eyes and nodded. I chuckled and said, "Well, at least you have one successful change under your belt now, so this should be a snap."
With a deep sigh, Ricardo dug back into the diaper bag and pulled out the needed supplies and began the business of tending to his grandson.
As I watched my normally stern husband coo and laugh while he removed Hugo's soggy diaper, my heart melted. For the past day and a half, Ricardo had performed all my tasks unflinchingly and hadn't complained, even when I made him do them over again to my satisfaction. He hadn't protested, much, when I insisted he sleep in the other room last night. He was truly trying to make amends in the way Father Brady had instructed – by walking a mile in my shoes. I'd never seen him try so hard to please me. And now, here he was, changing his second diaper.
I found it amazing that watching my 'oh so superior and arrogant' husband do my mundane household chores and care for our grandchildren could be so sexy. He'd also apologized very sincerely – many, many times – and said I could continue to work for Books/Plum Designs. It had been fun doing the first photo shoot, and seeing my picture in Cosmopolitan had been a thrill. However, modeling wasn't for me. I had no intention of continuing, but it was nice to know there would be no more 'orders' from my husband to 'cease and desist' any future attempts at a career, if I should choose that road. My repentant husband was going to get lucky tonight. I already felt very lucky.
The day had been alternately sunny and cloudy, so when the living room darkened a bit, Ricardo didn't take notice, but I saw movement out the picture window. Turning, I exhaled a quiet gasp when I saw the cause for the light in the room diminishing. Filling the front window with their faces pressed against the glass were our daughters and their families. They had looks of surprise and awe on their faces as they watched Ricardo, diaper in hand, kneeling over a naked wiggling baby. And then it happened!
Hugo sprang a leak! The strong stream caught Ricardo full in the face. And the crowd outside erupted in loud laughter and hoots of glee.
Shocked, first by the sudden fountain of pee hitting him in the face and, second by the spontaneous commotion outside, Ricardo pivoted and saw his children and grandchildren doubled over in laughter on the other side of our large living room window. Hugo's impromptu liquid eruption was dripping from my husband's chin, and his face turned an unlovely shade of red.
I found myself laughing in spite of my efforts to stop. Ricardo swung back and glared at me and then looked down at a giggling Hugo. It took a few moments, but a grin slowly formed across Ricardo's face. I handed him a baby wipe and he chuckled as he wiped his face.
Our children continued to hoot and holler from their safe position outside. Ricardo looked over at me and joked, "I knew I would be eating 'humble pie' when I took on my Acts of Penance, but I wasn't expecting to be 'christened' by my own grandson, especially not in this inglorious fashion… and with such a large audience." He gave a nod backward to the crowd milling outside our window.
"Why are all our children here?" he asked as he finished changing Hugo's diaper.
"I would imagine the Mañoso grapevine has been very busy today. Pilar probably called her sisters from the ER while waiting for Eduardo to get his shoulder fixed. Our children are happy we are together again." I reached out and stroked Ricardo's cheek. "I imagine they came to celebrate their parents finally coming to their senses," I said with a chuckle.
Ricardo placed the now dry, squirming baby on the floor and moved over to me and took my hands in his. "I am happy we are together again too, my love. And I think today is a wonderful day for a celebration. Let us all go to Rosa's. We can pick up Carolina and the kids on the way. Then Alejandro can also share in our joy. I would like to replace that awful memory of the last time we were all at Rosa's with a much happier one." I nodded in agreement.
He kissed the tips of my fingers and gazed into my eyes. "Teresa, I had no idea what you went through each day or how hard it was. What you do for me and for our family is simply amazing. It is a miracle you did this for 38 years by yourself without one complaint. I am truly humbled and in awe of you. Can you ever forgive me?"
I answered him with a kiss, and not a kiss that our children and grandchildren should be witnessing, but I threw caution to the wind and seized the moment. A loud cheer erupted from our front porch and then our family came pouring through the front door. Pilar and Eduardo, his arm in a sling, came in last. There were hugs and kisses and laughter, as well as congratulations.
It seemed our children had been truly worried about us, afraid our separation might be permanent. And who knows? If Ricardo hadn't demonstrated how repentant he was and how serious he was about changing his ways, I cannot say for certain what my ultimate decision might have been. He also promised to continue to help more around the house and be more understanding of our children's choices for their lives.
Don't get me wrong. I do not wear rose-colored glasses. I know my dear husband will have his trying moments and let his 'ass-inine' self come to the forefront at times, but knowing he has the will and inclination to curb those instincts now give me hope. And that is enough for now.
TBC