My earliest memories of the man who stole my mother from my dad were the bitter taste of the beer he kept in my mother's fridge, the sweet flavor of gumballs he bought me from the 1¢ bubblegum machine at the mall, and frothy milkshakes we learned to make with bananas, the top export of the latino country he came from. Strangely, many of my childhood memories are closely tied to taste and smell. I also remember his thick Spanish accent and him teaching my mom and sis and me a few Spanish words and phrases.
Maybe that sexy latino accent is what lured my mom away from my dad. Maybe it was the muscle bound arms and legs of that tennis-playing fool. Maybe it was the promise of money and prestige that would come with the engineering degree he was working on. Hell, maybe she just preferred the cologne Alfredo wore over the scent of stinky trash truck driver. Whatever the reason, she wouldn't fully accept that it had been a mistake until 10 years of being on one hell of a roller coaster ride.
The first hint that it might've been a mistake came early. Mom was spending some time with Alfredo at his apartment and happened to notice a paper on the table that said something in Spanish. She'd been learning Spanish, so she decided to try to read it. Then she went into shock as she realised it said something about his WIFE, Sofia. When she confronted him about it, he admited he was married but assured her that he was in the process of getting a divorce.
He graduated from Utah State University, and as he prepared for his return to Honduras, he begged my mom to come live with him there. She trusted him, and love makes people do stupid things sometimes. So, my mom sold everything (except the car, which she spent a fortune on shipping), and we flew to that beautiful little Central American country. Alfredo met us at the airport, as expected. Then he gave my mom the next hint that he had been a mistake.
He'd told my mom that we'd be staying at his house, so when he pulled up to a hotel, my mom gave him a puzzled look. He told her, "I have a surprise for you. I'll explain inside." So, we checked into a hotel room, and my sis and I were left in the hallway to play while they stayed in the room to talk. When my mom came out a while later, her eyes were red and swollen from crying. It was clear that something was horribly wrong.
We stayed in the hotel that night, and the next day we moved into Alfredo's house...with his WIFE and 3 children. For 2 or 3 months we all lived under the same roof...the wife, the kids, the mistress and the mistress's kids. It wasn't until I was an adult that I fully understood why everyone seemed to hate and look down on me...the mistress's daughter.
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