When We Left Cuba(81)

“It’s funny how your sense of home can change, isn’t it?” Elisa muses. “Havana was home, and it still is, but there’s something about this house, the life Juan, Miguel, and I have built here, that feels right, too.”

“I’m glad you’re happy, Elisa. Glad you found what you were looking for.”

“Sometimes it’s a choice, Beatriz. You can’t always predict how things will work out, but you can still forge a life for yourself, still find a way to be happy.”

“I’m too tired to speak in riddles, Elisa. Too confused.”

She laughs. “Patience was never your strength, was it?”

“So you think I should marry and have children?”

“No.”

“Then you think I should go back to London?”

“No, I don’t think that, either. I don’t know what you should do. But I want you to be happy. You’ve been stuck since we left Havana, since Alejandro died, and you have to move forward.”

“Maybe that’s the problem then. Maybe I want to be stuck. Because I can’t move forward. This thing with Nick and me—I don’t fit in his life. And I don’t want to hurt him. He’s a good man, and the things he wants, his dreams for this country, are important ones, too. I don’t want to damage his chances of becoming president one day.”

“Then you have to let him go.”

“I don’t want to do that, either.”

“I know. It was easier when we were girls, wasn’t it? When we could do as we wished with little regard for the consequences. I miss those days. The freedom of them. But we’re not girls anymore. At some point, you will have to choose. I know you’ve never liked being backed into a corner, but sometimes you have to make a choice. It’s not fair to him otherwise.”

“I know.”

“And you can always come home. Despite what you may think, you aren’t alone. What our parents did, the way they handled this—it doesn’t mean I feel the same way. You will always have a home here. Maria misses you so much. So does Isabel.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“She’s as stubborn as you are, albeit in a different way, but Isabel does miss you. You can’t stay angry with each other forever.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Come home. You can visit your nephew. He misses you. I miss you. You should see Maria now. She’s all grown up and ready to break hearts. Besides, the season is about to start. Your Senator Preston will likely return to Palm Beach. You can still see each other.”

“And our parents?”

“They’ll get over it. They’ll have to. You’re a Perez.”

“Our mother blames me for Alejandro’s death. For getting him involved with the rebels. I don’t know how either one of us can move past that.”

“What happened to Alejandro was not your fault. Getting involved with the rebels was his choice, and more than anyone, you did everything you could to help him. She is wrong to insinuate otherwise.”

“Wrong or not, it doesn’t really matter, does it? She’ll always look at me and see his death, always consider me responsible.”

“No one else feels that way, I promise you.”

“Father is angry about the scandal of my affair with Nick.”

“He’s changed since Cuba,” Elisa admits. “Business always mattered to him, but now it’s become more like an obsession. I think he’s afraid of what will happen next, attempting to shore up his resources and defenses before the next crisis strikes.”

“Is this to be our life then, existing between tragedies?”

“I hope not. I want better for Miguel. I want better for myself.”

Mr. Dwyer’s words come back to me now.

“You’re never going to leave Miami, are you?”

“I don’t know. I would love to go back to Cuba. I want to walk along the Malecón, want to see our house again, see Ana, and Magda. I want to go home, but things are different now. Juan has never been to Cuba. It’s not his home. And Miguel—

“I’m afraid for my son. Afraid to return after everything that has happened. And it’s hard. Too many ghosts. Too many memories.”

We’ve never spoken about it, but in the weeks after Fidel took power, something changed in Elisa, the revolution affecting her in different ways than it did the rest of us. We all cried, all mourned our brother, but her tears came before Alejandro was killed. I used to hear her crying quietly in her room at night during those weeks.

“Come home. You don’t have to make any decisions; it can just be to visit. I’ll ready the guest room.”

“I hardly think returning to South Florida will quell the gossip.”

“What gossip? Isabel is married. A fool for marrying a man who was more concerned with his reputation than her heart, but married all the same. Maria is older now. She’ll have to learn to survive in society on her own merits. And quite frankly, I couldn’t care less. And if our parents are embarrassed, that’s their problem. Come home.”





chapter twenty-nine


Now that the missile crisis is resolved, our attention turns to other things, the real world intruding, the problems we once faced creeping back in. When I was a child, I believed if you wanted something badly enough, if you worked hard enough for it, if you pushed your way past the obstacles presented to you, well, it would be yours. But now I’m learning it’s not simply a matter of will or desire; some things are perpetually out of our reach, and no matter how badly we wish it were otherwise, there are some battles whose outcomes are decided not in our hands, but in the stars.