TW:

Hello- I just wanted to offer a quick trigger warning to everyone but especially my fellow Latinx folks. There are ethnic slurs used in this chapter, not gratuitously, but if you'd rather skip altogether, I have marked the paragraph (10th) with an asterisk. Thank you for reading.

When Sirene was nineteen, she shocked her family by announcing she had been approved for an H2B work visa in the United States and would be moving for at least a year but maybe longer. She wanted to get out of her small ejido and see the world.

Despite its creature comforts, the safety net of her community, and promises of a future helping run her family's ranch, she felt as if she were slowly suffocating the longer she stayed. The farm bred livestock the old way and was now beginning to see the fruits, quite literally, of repurposing acres to grow avocados. She had to endure the scandal of her neighbors and ignore whispers of how proud, how arrogant she must be to leave such a comfortable life to slum it for minimum wage in the states. And they were right, in some respects; Sirene was proud and much too chingona to marry a nice man from town; to settle for a future she did not plan for herself.

She needed to go.

One bus drive, two flights, and a chartered van later found her in the sleepy town of Forks, prepared to build character by working as a housekeeper for Olympic Hospitality, the corporation overseeing a chain of three-star hotels across the northwestern coast of Washington State.

As she acclimated to the new climate, more often wet and rainy than not, and a culture where guests couldn't quite pronounce see-reh-neh, she opted to go by the less exotic, Rene. She spent her free time exploring the surrounding woods, whose trees were so majestic and alluring in their difference from the landscape to which she was accustomed. She enjoyed the solitude the region offered. Even if the work was backbreaking and often thankless, it was an environment comfortable to her after being up before dawn on the ranch. She found she loved her coworkers, sharpening her English and helping the other migrant workers who traveled with her to better theirs between quiet walks through the woods and complaining about the local dining options.

So when the day came when a guest assaulted a young housekeeper, it was Rene who offered translation to the under-resourced patrol officers who arrived to take her statement. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine that this moment, a young maid with a bloodied nose and a baby-faced officer with a laughably thick mustache, would change the trajectory of her life forever.

When three days passed after the incident, and he returned under the guise of needing her contact information in the event their detective needed follow-up, he admitted that he actually hoped to take her to dinner instead. Charmed, she let him, much to the annoyance- or thrill, of the gossip mongers in the small town.

Rene thought of Charlie Swan like the ocean in Tulum, the way she imagined it before the developers and tourists came … calm and clear on the surface while hiding depth beyond comprehension. And while seemingly everyone saw him as the high school baseball star turned do-gooder cop, Rene knew he was much more than that. He was kind and observant, demonstrably so. Like when he took her on a date in Port Angeles, where she complained of the lack of household staples such as queso fresco, cumino, dried chiles, and pan de huevo at their local grocery, only half-joking when she complained it prolonged her homesickness.

So after a trip took him to Seattle for training, he brought back all the staples and more. De la Rosa Mazapan, fruit-flavored hard candies covered in chile, piloncillo, Mexican chocolate, and vanilla. She knew she had found someone special, much to the town's dismay.

*When their six-month anniversary found them, it was in the home he inherited from his grandparents, staring surprisingly but happily at a positive pregnancy test. They knew their love was quick, thanks in part to their family and friends' constant reminding. But so thrilled were they that even the cruelest whisperings made by a bitter few of 'anchor baby' and 'beaner,' couldn't seem to penetrate their bubble. And why should it? They had a baby to prepare for a life together to dream of.

After an easy pregnancy without even a hint of morning sickness, she gave birth to a big healthy baby boy. But as the weeks turned into months, Rene never felt she got her full strength back. Always exhausted and maybe a bit depressed, she couldn't understand why she felt so ill. Her doctors chalked it up to postpartum depression and referred her for treatment, and though it helped, it didn't address the physical aspects of her complaints.

After a few years of a chronic 'mystery illness' and giving birth to a healthy albeit much smaller Bella, Rene couldn't shake the feeling that something else was wrong. It wasn't until one sunny day after hours spent in the garden with her kids left her bedridden for a week. After the appearance of a strange rash on her cheeks, spreading across the bridge of her nose, her doctor finally began to put the puzzle pieces together.

When Bella was three, her mother was officially diagnosed with Systemic Lupus Erythematosus, an autoimmune disease that was difficult to detect and for which a cure did not exist. The condition could only be managed, much to the frustration and fear of Charlie and Rene. As her doctors and one new rheumatologist in Seattle tried their best to prevent complications leading to severe illness or infection, Charlie and Rene began to feel overwhelmed by the hospital bills, not to mention the cost of raising two small children.

As their savings account diminished and the stabilization of his wife's health seemed an unimaginable future, they sat and discussed which options might be available. Borrowing from their parents was only a temporary fix, and selling their house to purchase something smaller, refinancing, or taking out a personal loan would only dig them deeper into financial ruin. When Charlie floated the idea of packing them all up to leave for Mexico, a desperate joke to lighten the mood, Rene thought through the logistics of making it work.

After marrying Charlie and going through the process to become a dual citizen of the U.S. and Mexico, she could still access the universal health care system of her home county. After discussing and arguing about it for months, it wasn't until Rene became sick from a kidney infection did they make the decision for her, and Bella, who they were convinced was made of velcro by the way she clung to her mama, would move to Mexico to be closer to a highly renowned special practice in Michoacán, where she was from. While she also wanted to bring Emmett, sure her family could help manage them both, the stubborn and steadfast boy, much like his father, refused to leave his friends and sports behind.

For years, and with the help of undying love and devotion, they made it work over FaceTime calls and summer breaks spent traveling to see one another. As Bella grew taller and wiser, happy among the avocados, and intentionally kept far and safe from the dangers of the city, Rene felt stronger but guilty. Her daughter, so far from her father and brother, although helpful in managing the chores of the family ranch, deserved to be just a kid and not the sometimes-self-imposed caretaker for her mother. That was until the day Renee woke up and realized she had felt better than she had in years. In reality, a years-long process of experimental treatments, drug cocktails, and pain management felt like a miracle as she stepped outside to smell the rain on parched earth. After her doctor's confirmation that the inflammation seemed to be in a state of remission, and a kind rheumatologist in Port Angeles who had the capacity to coordinate care with her doctors in Mexico, she made a call to her husband. "We're ready to come home."

"And so, we did. My mom's health is much better. Our family is much better," Bella finished over the Zoom call with a panel of interviewers impressed by her application to join the Peace Corps program in Guatemala. Noticing the time, Bella was embarrassed she had word-vommitted her life story." So, in conclusion," she added pointedly and self-deprecatingly, "I know the complexities of each individual path through life, made more difficult or helped by the nuances of politics and bureaucracy of state agencies, cultural norms, and everything in between. My goal, personally and professionally, is to approach these situations with the same care and empathy each person is worthy of, hoping my efforts to advance this project empowers improved outcomes for those it serves. I'm very sorry; I know you asked why I wanted to be a part of this project, not for my life story, but for me, they are intrinsically connected."

"Wow, Bella," the director responded, blown away, "you certainly bring a lot of passion to your work, and the context … your motivation behind it demonstrates you're really in it for the right reason. We're not in the habit of offering positions without doing our due diligence and checking references, but I can assure you we will be in touch soon."

After thanking them for their time and logging out of the Zoom meeting, Bella squealed, unable to contain her joy and the release of anxiety she had held in since first receiving the email from the program recruiter wanting to schedule an interview. She remained at her parents for the week after Emmett's party. A week of torment for her family, as they were all forced to role-play the interview, with questions Bella drafted herself.

After calling her parents and texting her group chat with Rose and Alice, Bella found her thumb hovering over the button that would reconnect her last FaceTime call with Edward. With a sudden surge of guilt, she closed the app and called Mike instead.

"Bella, that's amazing! Let's celebrate with dinner. Meet me at Matt's at seven, my treat."

His excitement reverberated back at Bella, and as she hopped in the shower, ready to shave and blow out her long dark hair, she decided the occasion called for the little black dress she splurged on and maybe even a swipe of lipstick to go with lightly lined eyes. It was a look Mike claimed to love.

As she caught her bearings before she could stumble out of her Uber, Bella checked her reflection in the restaurant windows, happy with what she saw and confident that Mike would be too. Waiting at the host stand to be seated where she presumed Mike would be waiting, she was surprised when she heard her name being called by an unfortunately familiar voice.

"I didn't know you were coming," said Andrew, Mike's classmate and 'friend,' they jokingly referred to as Andy, when he simply couldn't contain his trust fund baby's lack of awareness.

"What do you mean? Mike and I are meeting here to celebrate."

Looking at her with a tucked chin and confused but smug smile, he nodded his head in command to follow him rather than responding verbally.

Stomping her heeled foot petulantly, she huffed in frustration. She knew she'd find Mike at the bar, surrounded by the group of guys who also got internships at the Seattle courthouse for the summer.

"Babe," Mike called as he caught sight of her joining the party," I'm so proud of you. What do you want to drink."

Before she could respond, he was off telling his group of peers about her interview and the program she wanted to apply for, not noticing when she ordered a glass of red wine for herself- opting to pay cash rather than opening a tab. Despite the urge to pout, fight or disrupt their conversation, Bella let herself sit back and be an afterthought as they continued on around her. After an hour had passed, and she resigned herself to not having a celebratory dinner with her boyfriend, Bella gathered her things and slid quietly off the stool. Seeing her movement to leave, Mike finally made his way to her.

"Sorry, Bella. I can't believe we got caught up like that. There's this case being tried right now, and you won't believe-"

"It's fine, Mike; I'm just going to head home."

"No, stay; let's get dinner."

"It's late, and it looks like the restaurant is full now; the wait will be too long," she said as she stepped away from his friends, resolve stiffening her spine and prickling the nerve endings around her hairline.

"Okay, let's go to that taco place you like."

"No, it's fine. Just walk me out so I can catch an Uber home."

Agreeing, he called back to his friends that he'd be right back as he made to follow her outside.

Rocking on her heels, she requested a ride, deciding to cut any pretense of what was to come.

"Look, this isn't working. Your career is important, and I understand and support that, but today was important to me too." She said, holding her too-large phone tightly in her hand.

"Bella, come on, it's a glorified internship, not your dream job. I'm sorry, okay?"

Her hackles rose, yet she went against her instinct and replied calmly. "Okay, I forgive you, but this still isn't working."

"Can we at least talk about this? Let me go back to your place; I'll just go tell the guys—"

"No, Mike."

"Fine, let's go to mine, and I can cook you dinner; Kraft Mac and Cheese, my specialty,"

Scrunching her nose in distaste, she stared at him wordlessly, unwilling to back down.

Fortunately for her, her app dinged, signaling her driver was making his way toward her.

"Seriously, Bella? What happened to us seeing a future together. I was going to fucking wait for you."

His outburst surprised her; as if the mere discussion of commitment obligated her to him forever. Looking at his handsome face, she imagined this being just one night of many where his job took priority. She envisioned him closed up in his home office reviewing case notes, canceling dinner, or a weekend away with empty promises to reschedule. She would become a prop or arm candy. Mike would make the rounds with high-profile acquaintances as she sat stuck on a yacht with other trophy wives while the men circle jerked each other's achievements over cocktails and hor d'œuvres, speaking about their wives as if they weren't even there.

"I just saw our future, Mike, and it doesn't actually seem to include me. I was wrong. You have a lot going for you; you're going to make a great lawyer and have lots to brag about, and I just won't be one of those things," she said as she waved down the car she ordered, leaving him unceremoniously on the sidewalk.

To her surprise, she didn't feel guilty or sad as she opened her messages and sent the guy who'd been occupying her thoughts for weeks a, "Hey, guess what."

AN:

Shocked pikachu? Maybe not?

Biggest thanks to Fran!