It’s been five years since Megan Alexander took her last breath.
Every day, month, and year since then, Mateo tries to convince himself that it will get better eventually. Until that day, in the approaching days, he opts to remove himself from all social media to avoid seeing the “heartfelt” posts dedicated to her and why God would allow her to die so tragically. He couldn’t stand it. The annoyance that it brought on was enough to send thoughts of violence through his mind.
Sure, the church that he had been a part of growing up was great. They always showed up whenever anyone needed anything, including the time that she died but these were the same people who told Mateo just days after she died that it was “just God’s plan”. It was God’s plan for his mom to be gunned down in the middle of a street, the day before her son’s birthday?
Some plan, Mateo thought.
Moving on from the thoughts that threaten to ruin his day, Mateo decides to get ready for his meeting with his academic advisor on his recent application to Gonzaga’s MBA program. He’s been in Spokane for nearly five years now, just having completed his degree for their Business Administration undergraduate program. He decided to stick around after graduation to see what Spokane had to offer outside of the tiring and rigorous schedule of a student athlete. His roommate and buddy, Ethan, hooked him up with a job at the financial firm that he started working at after he graduated.
Ethan walked on as a transfer during his senior year and the two bonded over their shared love of sneakers and the fact that they were both from Oklahoma. Ethan had a shoe collection that rivaled Mateo’s. As their friendship grew, Mateo got the hunch that Ethan was hiding something or, at the most, running from something. He understood that feeling all too well, but he also understood the need for privacy, so he never pushed Ethan to reveal any information.
They decided to room together after Mateo graduated and Ethan helped him land a year-long internship that may lead him to a more permanent position at the financial firm that Ethan works for. It’s good work, I guess. I like it enough; Mateo explains to his family any time that they ask how it’s going. He can’t complain because it’s a paying internship and those are nearly unheard of. It’s busy work that he’s never bored with and there’s always something to do, but Mateo can’t help but admit that he’d rather be on a basketball court somewhere.
A memory comes to mind of the summers that he spent putting on youth camps for the elementary and middle school kids at his school and surrounding areas. The thought brings a smile to his face as he remembered how much he actually enjoyed it. He remembered the conversation that he had with his parents as incoming freshman and Coach McMillan requiring his players to work it,
“This is going to be so lame, dad. Coach said we have to teach the younger kids, and that includes Mav and Chi! I’d rather be in charge of setting up the sanctuary.” He grumbles to his dad as they prepare dinner.
“Hey, now there’s an idea. Huh, babe?” he says to Megan who is busy browning the meat for the enchiladas they had planned for dinner. Dominic leans over from doing the dishes and plants a kiss against Megan’s lips which, for a lack of better words, makes Mateo want to barf. His facial expression indicates as much.
“Definitely, and hey, since Coach McMillan is a deacon, I’m sure he’d love your help on Sundays” Megan responds looking over her shoulder at Mateo, giving him a sly grin, making Mateo groan, “Now, tell me sweet boy, what is your problem in working with the younger kids? I remember that was you not too long ago.” She says, giving him a pointed stare. Mateo hated when his mom did that because of how uncomfortable it made him. He didn’t know why he dreaded it so much, he had liked basketball camp when he was a kid, but some of the upper classmen were complaining about it the other day at summer pride.
Megan stills her hands then wipes them on a towel attached to the waistband of her shorts, places her hand on Dominic’s shoulder as she asks him to take over for a minute. She walks over to the island where Mateo was sitting and takes a seat next to him on a wooden barstool, “Now, I know it may seem lame because you’re in high school now and you think you have better things to do,” Mateo looked at his mom like she was a witch because she had somehow always known exactly what he was thinking before he ever said anything, “but you have an opportunity to be the person the high school team was to you. Isn’t that cool? How God can bring things full circle like that?” She wraps an arm around her son, silently praying for God to give him guidance and wisdom, praying to set him apart from the rest of his team.
They finished dinner, having made the beef enchilada recipe that Maria had given them and letting themselves indulge way too much because Maria’s cooking was exceptional. Two days later camp began and by the end of the week, Mateo had had the time of his life. He loved watching the kids he was assigned to grow and teaching them new things. His 3rd grade team even beat one of the senior’s 3rd grade team.
Mateo thought that was pretty awesome and maybe he could become a coach someday.
Mateo shook his head as the memory ended, realizing that he hadn’t been paying attention the entire time he drove to the admissions office. How did I even make it here, he thought. But he didn’t regret the memory. Happier memories of his mom had been surfacing lately and for the first time since she died, he let himself indulge in them. He walks up to the admissions office to check in and wait for his appointment when he gets a text from his dad, Call me when you can. Love you. -Dad. Mateo chuckles, tucking his phone back in his pocket. His dad is fairly young but still hasn’t grasped onto the whole “Texter I.D” thing, and that he doesn’t have to sign off every time he texts someone. As he puts his phone back into his pocket, thinking about the recurring dream that he had this morning. He props his hand up on his knee as he waits for his appointment, touching his fingertips, the feeling of a soft hand in his still lingering. The dreams feel so real when he wakes up that he is certain someone is there, but every time he wakes up… nothing. Nothing except the feeling of chasing after a ghost.
Mateo’s admissions counselor, Mrs. Fitzgerald, calls him in and they spend the next thirty minutes talking about his undergraduate, his likes and dislikes, and what he hopes to gain from the graduate program. They talk about the program, itself, the schedule and when he could start. He had already submitted his application, and his counselor informed him that by looking at his academic career, she didn’t see any reason that he would be denied. Mrs. Fitzgerald ends the meeting telling Mateo that they would be in touch once he receives his letter then sends him on his way.
On his way out, he checks his phone, remembering the text that he received from his dad. He opens his phone then scrolls to locate his dad’s number then clicks the call button. “Hey son, I’m glad you called” his dad says into the receiver.
“Sure, dad. What’s going on?”
“Oh, yes. Well, I was talking to some of the elders, and your aunt Harmony, and there’s discussion on the table about throwing a celebration of life event for your mom.”
Mateo stops in his tracks, right as he gets to the drivers’ side door of his car. He closes his eyes, concentrating fiercely on not reliving the detrimental moment that his life went wayward. He takes a deep breath, willing the moment away then opens his eyes, “Oh, uh, did we already do one of those?”
“We had a funeral and a wake, but the common consensus during the discussion was to celebrate who your mom was.” Dominic explains while Mateo can feel himself growing more agitated during the conversation, why can’t we just let it go and move on, he thinks to himself.
“What would be the point in drudging this back up?” Mateo retorts, trying to remain in control of his heightened anger. He regains movement then clicks the button on his key fob to unlock his car door. As he climbs in, he can hear his dad let out a sigh, “Mateo, people were fond of mom, it’s okay that they want a way to honor her memory.” Mateo shakes his head, “I understand that dad, but not everyone wants to remember that day.”
How could he not understand that? Mateo wonders, He’s been a pastor my entire life, you would think he wouldn’t be blind to his own son’s pain. Mateo thumps his fingers against the steering wheel as he awaits his dad’s response. The pregnant pause is a clue of what’s coming as Dominic and Mateo have had this conversation thousands of times since he left Oklahoma. His family either couldn’t understand what Mateo was going through or they didn’t want to.
“Mateo, you can’t let this ruin your life. You have to let it go at some point, son.” Mateo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Was his dad really suggesting that he forget his mom? He pulled his phone away from his ear, looking at the screen, possibly making sure that he was still talking to his dad and not some coldhearted replacement, “I haven’t let it ruin my life. If you haven’t noticed, I’m doing pretty well for someone my age. I-I, was a college athlete for all four years of college, I made good grades, I earned an internship with a top financial firm, and I’m on track to start my school’s graduate program… .”
Mateo felt his heart rate increase at his dad’s suggestion that his life was anywhere near ruins. I have my own place, my own car, not to mention that I have an amazing social life, he thought what he chose not to say. What his dad didn’t know about his life wouldn’t hurt him, luckily for me, playing basketball at a prominent “basketball” school afforded me certain “luxuries” with women and party supplies. “Son, I’m not saying that you haven’t been successful, but life is more than the things that you accomplish. It’s how you live.”
“And how have I been living, dad?”
“With anger. Resentment, A bitterness that God never intended you to live with.”
“Then He should have thought about that before he let that piece of crap shoot and kill my mom.” Mateo spits back. Mateo closes his eyes and hits his head against the headrest of his seat, knowing better than to continue this conversation. He’s been pretty good in recent years to avoid or cut off conversations that involve God but today caught him off guard and got the better of him.
“Son, he was just a stupid kid, you know that. He confessed that it was an accident. He didn’t even realize that it was loaded.”
Mateo lets out a sarcastic laugh, “And that’s supposed to make it better?” He combats. I can’t believe what I’m hearing right now. What has gotten into him?
“No, it doesn’t. But knowing a piece of his life gives enough perspective to forgive him.”
“You can’t be serious…,” Mateo shakes his head, his heartrate increasing to a toxic speed, “Dad, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.” Mateo doesn’t wait for his dad to respond before he ends the call. A small part of him feels guilty for hanging up on his dad, but a more logical part of his brain tells him that he did the right thing. There’s no way that his dad really thinks like that. Mateo surmises that it must be the five-year anniversary coming and the conversation that he had with the elders of the church that’s making his mind warped.
He uses the rest of the drive home to blow off steam before walking into his house to see Ethan already partaking in said party favors that he thought about earlier, “Hey man, how did your meeting go?” Ethan asks as he blows out a puff of smoke before offering the white stick to Mateo. Mateo takes it, taking a small hit before giving it back. As he releases the air, he nods his head, “It went good. I should hear something soon.”
“Then why do you look so pissed off?”
“Just got off the phone with my dad.”
He lets out a laugh as he places the stick in between his lips, “Another on of those “God” conversations?” He mumbles out, shaking his head.
“Don’t get me started.” Mateo huffs out as he plops onto the loveseat and spreading out as he relaxes against the cushions. Mateo tries to put his dad’s words in the back of his mind, but they keep replaying over and over. How could anyone forgive something like that? Why should he get to live with any amount of peace for what he did? Mateo begins to become angry once again before Ethan notices and slaps his knee, telling him to cut it out, “Get your mind right, man. Let’s call a few friends and get a keg over here.” Ethan suggests. Mateo nods, thinking that a night like that would do him some good. Ethan snaps his fingers then points at Mateo, “I forgot, Sara texted me earlier wanting to hang out. I think she’s got a friend that would be willing to tag along.” He suggests.
Mateo nods again, liking the sound of the plans that are beginning to form and like he wished for, his dad’s words are fading into the background of his mind, “Bet.” Mateo takes the joint from Ethan and takes another hit. He spreads his arms across the back of the cushion as he relaxes his head and opens his mouth, letting a cloud of smoke billow out. What was dad talking about, “ruining my life”? From my view, my life is looking pretty fantastic, Mateo thinks as he floats away.
Cheers erupt in the dining room as Mateo sinks a shot into the last remaining cups to clinch the win in the drinking game that formed when enough people had showed up. Mateo wasn’t planning on such an exciting night, he was more hoping for a low-key night, but shrugged it off and told himself to enjoy it anyway. Sierra, the friend of the girl that Ethan brought over, clings onto Mateo’s bicep, as he accepts hand claps from various on lookers. Mateo has been undefeated since the first game started, but as he looks around, a sickening feeling fills the pit of his stomach.
This is not as much fun as it used to be, he thinks. Maybe it was because they were in college and the atmosphere nearly encouraged that type of behavior, but it seems almost lackluster now. It could be the fact that Mateo has mixed substances more than once during the night and the effects are beginning to bog him down, either way, he feels an overwhelming sense of retiring to his room. He looks down and sees Sierra, looking up at him suggestively, and he isn’t sure that going to sleep is on the schedule for the rest of the night, although that’s what he’d rather do.
Again, when he was a junior and senior in college, he lived for no strings attached relationships. He wasn’t much for girlfriends, even in high school, opting to only focus on basketball, and it would have been talk of the town if the pastor’s son was engaging in pre-marital activities. Now that he was away from home for the first time in his life, away from the bible thumping gossips in River Valley, he was free to indulge in any way that he wanted, so he did.
But tonight is different.
But tonight, he couldn’t be less interested in the events that he looked forward to just last week. It’s probably just a funk from what I took. I just need to go to sleep, but I’m not sure if this chick is going to let me, he thought. Mateo tries to avoid Sierra’s gaze, attempting to find some way out of what she’s been planning since the moment she stepped into the house. Mateo isn’t blind, he could see the wheels turning when she laid eyes on him. He figured out after getting his first tattoo that women are putty for a tattoo and a sob story, which he has. Ashamedly, Mateo has used the memorial tattoos that fill the skin on both arms for his advantage with women a time or two but even when Sierra was asking about them, he felt… bored.
Uninterested.
Monotonous.
Just then, like the universe was giving him an out, his phone begins to vibrate in his pocket. After maneuvering his way out of Sierra’s hold, he looks up to the sky, giving a silent thank you to whoever was listening, and pulled his phone from his pocket. He focuses his eyes after the brightness of the screen momentarily blinds him then sees his baby sister is calling him. He felt relief for a fraction of a moment before he heard a shrill voice behind him demand who was calling him.
“My baby sister. Gotta take this.” He answers but stalks off toward his bedroom down the hall before the girl had a chance to respond. Whether Millie understood, he owed her huge for her late-night call. He couldn’t care less what it was about, he was just grateful to have a moment alone, “Hey Mills, what’s up? Why are you up so late? Is everything okay?” He hears a sniffle on the other end and suddenly the hair stands up on end. Although he is likely intoxicated, hearing his sister upset has sobered him up exponentially.
“Yeah, I was just thinking about you and started missing you, I guess. I’m fine though.” She sniffles yet again, and this is the part that Mateo hates. He loves his family but some days it feels like it’s better if he wasn’t there. Like maybe their lives have been better since he’s been away. I mean, hell, the whole town is doing a memorial for my mom, but I was there too. He pointed the gun at me too, but somehow my mom took the stray bullet, he says to himself. “I miss you too, Mills.”
“It’s been too long since you’ve been home.”
“I know.”
“Please come home, bubba.”
Against his better judgement, Mateo agrees. He doesn’t know why he agreed. Maybe it was the mixture of drugs and alcohol impairing his better judgement or maybe it’s because it’s Millie. Millie was the baby of the family, born just two minutes after Malachi yet her life hung in the balance for far too long. Mateo doesn’t remember much since he was four when they were born but he remembers there being a lot of tears and Millie not being able to come home right away. He remembers having a big party once his parents were finally able to bring her home.
Once he got older, his parents told him that she had to stay in the NICU due to her having hypoglycemia. From what Mateo understood, he didn’t think Millie’s life was ever in imminent danger, but it had to be scary for his parents not being able to bring one of their kids home right away. From the moment his parents brought her home, Millie has been his baby. Often tasking himself with helping his parents take care of her, being the best four-year-old helper that ever lived and dedicating much of his childhood to protecting her. Although Maverick and, even Malachi, experienced normal sibling contempt with Millie, he never did. She has always been his buddy, his shadow, and his best friend.
Millie squeals with delight at his answer, her excitement causing her to talk a mile a minute, “I gotta tell dad!” she exclaims, likely waking the man and anyone else in the house at the late-night hour. Her antics make him laugh, and Mateo can’t deny that it feels good to laugh. Not just laughing at the dumb things that his friends do at parties or what he thinks is funny when he’s under the influence. This was a different laugh. A laugh that was good for the soul. He shakes his head, imagining Millie jumping up in down in place.
“Calm down, Mills,” he chuckles, “Don’t go waking the old man up at this hour. I’ll call him in the morning.” Mateo hears Millie harumph then a creak as he assumes she sits on the bed, likely pouting, making him laugh at her even more.
“Fine, fine. When will you come home?” Home. Millie says that word again and something sparks inside Mateo though he isn’t sure what it is. Home. He isn’t sure that he has one nowadays. He ponders on that word and what it means, and if it’s the warm fuzzy connotation that he’s thinking, he’s sure that he doesn’t have one. He doesn’t get that feeling from Spokane and hasn’t felt that about River Valley since his mom died. So, what is home anymore?
“I, uh, I need to finish out this internship, but the company that I’m interning for won’t make me an official offer until the end of summer. Well, if I get it that is.” He explains.
“So, you could stay for the whole summer?! You haven’t been able to do that since you left for college!” Another squeal let loose causing Mateo to pull the phone away from his ear. Her words left him thinking about the last time that he traveled back to Oklahoma. More often than not, his family came to him. There was one time that he went home for vacation, but it didn’t go so well, and he ended up making up an excuse about his coach needing him back for training, so that he could leave early.
There’s a small part of him that’s worried if that’ll happen again, and maybe he shouldn’t have agreed to coming so quickly since he now doesn’t have basketball to fall back on. As he thinks about how he could possibly get out of staying, or at the very least, staying the entire summer, Millie chatters on about how much fun they’re going to have, new places that she has to show him, “and, oh! You have to meet Allie!”
“Who’s Allie?”
“She’s dad’s new assistant at the church.”
“Maria isn’t his assistant anymore? When did that change?” He asked. How much had changed since he left? She mentioned new places, but River Valley wasn’t a place where people moved to. He had known the same people from kindergarten to graduation, including his best friend. This conversation reminded him to give Robby a call tomorrow since they hadn’t spoken in about a month.
“Uh, about three years ago, I think. Robby was able to take over on the business side so she wouldn’t have to split her time between the church and the restaurant, so now she can help Luis with the back-of-house stuff... But she’s so fun, Tae, and soooo pretty.” She lingers on that last sentence, baiting Mateo into asking more about her. If there’s one thing that Millie prays about more than any other, it’s that her brother will find someone to settle down with in Oklahoma.
She knows how much her oldest brother carries the death of their mother with him, but also how he chooses to keep with him, too. Lord, please let this trip be healing, let him find You again. Let us, and Allie, be a light to him while he’s here, she prays silently while she’s on the phone. “Mills, don’t get any ideas. I’m not in a place to start dating.” Mateo warns, making Millie giggle. He was always able to tell when she was up to something.
“No ideas. Just telling you about dad’s pretty assistant,” she says with an airy tone. Mateo rolls his eyes, shaking his head, “but I probably should get off here. I have to babysit her son in the morning.”
“Alright, sis. I’ll work out details with dad in the morning.”
“Goodnight, bub. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Mateo hangs up the phone then flops back onto his bed, letting out a big sigh. He wasn’t sure about this, but the unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach seemingly disappears as his eyes drift shut, the music still thumping in the background, rattling the door of his room.
A different worry for a different day, he thinks as he drifts to sleep.
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