Being a mother is one of the hardest things I've ever done. You literally give yourself up. Pregnant, it isn't your body anymore. The baby is a part of you. After they are born, they remain part of you. Their dreams become your dreams. Their pain becomes yours. At times I want to reclaim my independence when my time belonged to me and my responsibility was only to me. But alone, I was just that. Alone. Being a mother is hard. But the reward is having my joy multiplied in the lives of my children.

-Bianca Reyes

BEFORE …

A day off for Bianca Reyes was hardly that. When friends said with envy how nice it must be to work only three days out of the week, Bianca tried not to laugh in their face. Her job as a RN at the children's hospital was so demanding she barely had time to eat let alone sit down while doing so. Her average day was a twelve hour shift with three or eight patients to care for depending on the day. It was go from the moment she stepped on the floor.

Then there was the emotional toll of worrying for her patients. Not to mention the devastation she went through when a child didn't make it. Some of the other nurses told her not to get so attached. But she couldn't help it. She was a mother. She loved kids. She would have had more if she could have. And if it had been her child in the ER or recovering from surgery or on the brink of life and death, she would want someone who treated them like gold. So that's what she did. She gave her all to every patient and yes, some days she left work crying, but she didn't regret loving those kids.

Her remaining four days off she was still on call incase the hospital was short staffed. Often she'd groggily answer the phone at four in the morning and grab her scrubs.

On her down time, she'd try to manage the chores that had piled up during her absence. She still hadn't trained her esposo to unload the dishwasher. Jaime's idea of doing laundry was rotating through clothes on his floor. Milagro stickered, taped, bedazzled, colored, or glitter glued tables, doors, clothes, walls, and anything else that was not paper.

And then there were all the projects that Bianca had for herself. Repaint the bathroom. Fix the hole in the sofa — thank you not-so-safe safety scissors. Mop the kitchen. And the list went on.

Bianca wasn't the kind of person who found it easy to relax even when she needed to. She tackled each task with an intense energy. By the time the kids got home from school that day, Bianca had finished half her list and found a dozen other things to add to it.

She greeted her hijos with a kiss. Jaime ducked to his room before she could ask him how his day was. Milagro started talking like an auctioneer, bombarding Bianca with names, events, and feelings that had filled her school day.

Bianca retrieved a plate and browsed through the fridge to make a snack for Milagro. "What was the favorite part of your day?"

"I jumped off the swings at recess. Mami -"

"That was your favorite?"

"Umm … no. Mami, what's that?" Milagro pointed at the stove.

"Dinner."

"It looks disgusting."

Bianca plopped the dish of grapes, carrots, and a cheese stick in front of the squirming girl. "Oh. Thanks for that."

"It's like … It's like brown snot. It smells like poop," she giggled.

"It's stew."

Milagro nibbled on a carrot, giving the steaming pot a dubious snear. "I don't want any."

"Well, it's what you're getting."

"I want grilled cheese. No no. Macaroni for dinner. Mac-n-CHEEESE," she sung, thrusting the cheese stick in the air like a sword.

"You're having stew. Lindita, you didn't tell me. What's your favorite -"

"But I love mac-n-cheese."

"I know you do."

"I think I could eat it forever." She grinned, sliding down the chair like she was melting.

"Milagro," Bianca spoke to the pigtails, "what was your favorite thing about today?"

The girl peeped her nose over the edge of the table, smile tinting her eyes. "That you're home." The girl bounced out of her chair and gave her a hug. "I missed you, mami!"

Okay, maybe spending an hour scraping stickers off the coffee table was worth it. Bianca returned the hug. "I missed you too, mi amor. Sit down and finish your snack."

After Milagro was settled, Bianca went to check if Jaime needed a ride to Brenda's fiesta. Her hijo sat at his desk glaring at a lump of wrinkled wrapping paper. It looked like a present a three year-old had wrapped. He ripped it up and tossed the mess in the trash. The bin overflowed with spent paper.

"Hijo!" Bianca scolded. "Trying to wipe out a forest? What are you doing?"

"Trying to wrap this stupid thing," he grumbled.

Bianca looked at the object and gasped. "Jaime! Where did you get this?" On a wide silver band, an elegant etching of feathers detailed the polished metal. She picked up the bracelet, turning it in her hand. Mounted on the center was a stone the length of her palm. The deep blue rock looked like agate or lapis. Inspecting it closer, she marveled at the carving of a beetle.

Jaime rubbed the back of his neck. "I … I made it. For Brenda."

"You made this? Where … How …?" She shook her head in awe.

He squirmed. "Do you … think she'll like it?"

"It's beautiful. She'll love it. But amor," she chuckled, "you don't wrap jewelry."

At this he threw his hands in the air. "What am I supposed to do with it?"

Ah, boys. She patted his shoulder. "Tell you what, you get ready. I'll find some things around the house for this."

A gift box tied with a teal ribbon did the trick. Bianca nestled it amongst matching tissue paper in a small silver gift bag. She'd have to sit him down at some point and explain that small details like this meant a lot to a girl.

It wasn't until recently that Bianca noticed something different between Jaime and Brenda. Such as how Jaime looked at Brenda when she was in the room. Brenda didn't seem to reciprocate his feelings. As much as Bianca wanted to protect his heart, young love was for the young to figure out. Perhaps this gift would get Brenda's attention. Bianca still couldn't believe he had made the bracelet. That much effort … it was sure to catch any girl's eye.

Jaime cleared his throat and Bianca turned to assess his wardrobe choice. All her lectures on coordination were finally paying off. Dark T-shirt and jeans — which she'd just washed that evening, you're welcome — with a gray blazer. His hair was combed back and she detected the slight scent of aftershave.

Bianca took his hands. "Estás lindito."

"Mami," he grumbled.

She handed him the gift bag. "When's the fiesta?"

"Doesn't start 'til five thirty."

"Homework done?"

"Almost."

"You need a ride?"

He fumbled with the gift bag and turned to leave. "No, no. Uh … Paco and I are gonna walk. Her house isn't that far."

"You sure? After you get all dolled up you're going to show up sweaty?"

A skeptic look met her over his shoulder. "Mami, you can't drop me off."

"Why not?"

"If you don't understand it, then I can't explain it to you. It just can't be done."

"Fine. Just make sure you use extra deodorant," she teased.

He disappeared down the hall and Bianca set to work chopping vegetables and plopping them in the stew. Just as she was washing up, her esposo stumbled through the door under an armload of groceries.

She greeted him with a kiss. "Get the green onions?"

"And the cilantro." He dumped the bags on the counter just in time to be tackled by Milagro. "Hola, mi pequeñita. Come 'ere." He attacked her with kisses making her squeal.

Bianca was washing the long onion stalks when the doorbell rang. She grabbed a towel and dodged around Alberto and Milagro to the front of the house. She opened the door and Paco sauntered in. The boy was big for his age, built like a football player really. He wore suit jacket and vest with bright orange swimming trunks that matched his bowtie. To give the kid props, his style was … unique.

He grinned. "Hey, Doña Bianca."

"Paco." Her tone was less than impressed. Although childhood friends with her hijo, the older they got, the more she had to force herself to tolerate their friendship. Paco's humor was juvenile, his manners lackadaisical, and he was a slacker. She'd saw kids like him all the time. Life was a game and the only thing that mattered was instant gratification. But the way she saw it, as long as Jaime's friends came to her house where she could keep an eye on them, she would continue to welcome them.

"Just stopping by to pick up my hombre."

"He's in his room doing homework."

"If he keeps that up he might learn something." Bianca stared. Paco gave a nervous laugh. "I'll uh … just go get him." He slid past. "Hey, mano. You ready or what?"

Moments later, the two emerged from Jaime's room. "I can't believe you forget to get her something," her hijo was saying.

"I didn't forget," Paco defended. "What's wrong with my abuelita's picante, anyways?"

"Because it looks like you raided your abuela's pantry on the way out the door."

"It's quality homemade hot sauce and totally thoughtful. Brenda'll eat it, won't she?" With a roar like a bloodthirsty predator, Milagro jumped off the back of the couch at Paco's face. The teen caught her and screamed. "Help! I'm being attacked by a fluffy, evil bunny!"

There was some hint of outrage in Milagro's voice. "I'm not a bunny. I'm a lion!" The little girl crawled over him, got him in a headlock and hung on him from behind. Paco gagged. "I didn't know lions knew choke holds. Okay, maybe some actual help here?"

Jaime backed away laughing. "Sorry, dude. Don't want to mess up my look."

"Traitor!" Paco bent double. Screeching, Milagro flew over his shoulders to land on the couch cushions.

"Have everything?" Alberto asked. Jaime nodded. "What time you going to be back?"

"Around ten."

"Got your phone? Call if you need us."

"Have fun you two," Bianca waved.

Alberto muttered so only she could hear, "Not too much fun."

"We will," Paco said straightening his bowtie. "Can't wait to get my swims on in her tía's pool. Yo, Milagro. You gots some floaties I can borrow?" Jaime slugged Paco in the arm. "Ow! What?"

Bianca turned to Jaime. Her hijo cringed, fiddling with his jacket button, examining the wall with great interest, scratching his nose. "Paco, where did you say the party was?" she asked still staring at Jaime.

Paco squirmed.

Alberto paced next to her, arms folded. "You got a problem talking all the sudden?"

Paco glanced desperately at Jaime. "No …"

"So answer her. Where's the party?"

"Uh …" He laughed and shrugged. "I mean, everyone knows …"

"Everyone?" Bianca pounced. "Who's everyone?"

Her hijo jumped in to help him. "Okay, the party's at Brenda's tía's estate in the Upper Valley. The place got changed sorta last second." Paco nodded furiously. "I was gonna tell you but -"

"But what?"

"I know you don't like big parties. Brenda's tía sorta went all out and a lot of people got invited. But it's not -"

"How much is, a lot of people?"

"I don't know … like … the exact amount." He rolled his shoulders and didn't meet her eye. "I think I heard her say … like maybe … a hundred?"

"Paco, it's time for you to leave."

With wide eyes, Paco swung his arms awkwardly by his sides and glanced at a watch he didn't have. "Is that the time? Caramba." He shot Jaime an apologetic look as he slunk out of the house. "Lo siento, hermano."

Bianca strained to keep her voice level. "Walk to Brenda's house, huh?"

"Mami …"

"You lied to me, Jaime!"

"I didn't tell you because I knew you'd freak out. And you are!"

"Stop yelling at him," a small voice said. Milagro was kneeling on the couch, watching the exchange with a worried expression.

Alberto scooped her up. "It's fine, pequeñita. Go play in your room." He took her down the hall.

"You are out of your mind if you think I'm going to let you go to that party."

"What? Why! Everyone's going to be there."

"You're not everyone."

"I have to go. I'm Brenda's best friend."

"Then she'll understand. How did you even plan on getting there? Walk?"

"Paco's gonna drive," he said. "And I swear I can be back before ten."

"Paco." She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, he's really helping your case."

He stuttered for a moment. "What's that supposed to - So what, now you have a problem with my friends?"

"I have a problem with you and your friends lying to me."

"I'm sorry, okay?"

"Well, that makes it all better, doesn't it?"

"Mami!"

"Don't start, Jaime. Even if you hadn't lied, it's all the way on the west side at the house of someone I don't know with a bunch of kids I don't know."

"There's gonna be adults. It's not a big deal."

"You know how many kids I see come in ODed or with alcohol poisoning? Kids find ways of doing what they want, adults or no."

Jaime breathed out. "There won't be any drugs or stuff like that. It's Brenda."

"Brenda, I trust. It's the other hundred kids that I wouldn't put it past."

"And what about me?" Jaime was nearly yelling. "Don't you trust me? Se sério. I'm not some stupid kid. I can look out for myself!"

Alberto returned from the back of the house. "Raise your voice to tua madre again," he spoke, "and I'll give you something to yell about."

Jaime turned to his padre, desperation cutting down his volume. "Papi, por favor," he pled. "I need to go to this party."

No mercy from him. "What you need, Jaime, is to understand that deceit won't get you anywhere in this world."

"But -" Jaime turned back to her. "Mami, at least let me give Brenda her present. You know how hard I've been working on it."

Bianca's face softened and she felt her resolve waver. When he looked at her with those big brown eyes and puckered expression … He wanted it so bad. He was hurting for it. Every nerve in her body wanted to ease his pain. She shook herself. Ser mujer, Bianca. After everything she just said? That whole argument? If she let him get away with this then she was as good as admitting she'd been wrong and he was right. But he was wrong. And he had to learn that choices had consequences no matter how hard it was to swallow.

Her shoulders squared. "You lied to me. As a result, you are not going."

Jaime let out a holler. "This isn't fair!"

"You can give her the present tomorrow. It's one party, Jaime," Bianca said stuffing a bag of oranges into the fridge. "Not the end of the world. Vivirás." Jaime stormed off to his room.

"If you slam that door -" Alberto warned.

Jaime closed the door with savage gentleness. Bianca whirled to the stove and whacked the spoon against the rim. She rummaged around the kitchen like that for several minutes, slamming cabinets, thudding utensils, attacking food stains.

Alberto folded the grocery bags. "Amor," he soothed.

"What?"

"Dígame."

Bianca spun to him, slapping a strand of hair from her eyes. "It's just I'm the bad guy now. I'm the one who's ruining everything. He spent all this time on her present. It's lindo, Berto. You should see what he made. It must have taken weeks. He was so excited and now … Now he can't give it to her."

"He lied."

"I know," she snapped. "But this other part of me is like, we shouldn't stop him from doing something nice for Brenda. Her home life isn't the best. Jaime is a good friend to her." Her esposo was motionless as she ranted. "And yeah, I don't feel like I should reward him for hiding something from us. It's just … Sometimes being right isn't the most important thing."

"So you want to drive him all the way out to the Upper Valley and back?"

Bianca flicked off the burner and hunched over the smoldering kettle. "I don't know. I don't know what to do."

It wasn't that she didn't trust Jaime, but as his mother it was her job to keep him out of situations where he was pressured. At the same time, if she didn't let him know she trusted him … he would be crushed. His own self confidence would crumple and then he would make bad choices just because he thought she expected him to fail anyways and …

These tempst of thoughts fell away as Alberto pulled her in by the hips and gave her a kiss. "I've got Milagro. Go."

Bianca rested her cheek against his scratchy five-o'clock shadow. "How is it you always know what to say?"

His chest vibrated as he chuckled. "Me? All I do is repeat what you say. It's worked for me so far."

She left him with a kiss and gathered together her purse and keys. All the while she wondered what to say. She stood outside his door, hesitating. From within, the thrum of metal music droned in manic agitation. A projection of Jaime's mood no doubt. She took a deep breath and knocked.

"Jaime?"

No answer.

"Jaime, we need to talk. Open up."

Nothing.

She tried the handle.

Locked.

At any other time she would have let him brood until he came to his senses. She retrieved the key from the top of the door jam and unlocked it. "Look, get your shoes on. We'll talk in the car. I'm taking you to …" She looked around the room.

A pile of clean laundry on his bed. A desk scattered with homework, videogames, and bits of wrapping paper. The TV tuned to a Pandora channel. But no Jaime.

Her eyes locked on the cracked window. No. No he did not. Betrayal slid into her gut cold and unfamiliar. He had. He'd snuck out, disobeyed, to go to a party. She smothered her hurt with anger. "That boy …" Her face hardened. "Estás muerto!"

loose Spanish translation as taken in context:

abuela - grandmother
abuelita - granny
amor - dear / love
caramba - dang
cumpleaños - birthday
dígame - what's up / tell me
doña - mistress / head of the house
esposo - husband
estás lindito - you're cute
estás muerto - you're dead
fiesta - party
hijo/s - son / children
hola, mi pequeñita - hello, my little one
hombre - brother
lindita - cutie
lindo - beautiful
lo siento - sorry
madre - mother
mami - mom
mano - bro
mi amor - my dear / my love
padre - father
papi - dad
picante - hot sauce
pequeñita - little one
por favor - please
se sério - come on / be serious
señor - Mr.
ser mujer - be a woman
tía - aunt
tua madre - your mother
vivirás - you'll live