She had bought their affection, or at least the right to be present.
But that afternoon at the hospital had taught her that her money was welcome, but her presence was not.
An hour later, her cell phone started ringing. It was Marcos. Lucía let it ring twice before answering.
“Mom?” Marcos’s voice was high-pitched, on the verge of panic. “What did you tell the hospital? They just called saying you refused to pay! They won’t let us leave without settling the debt or signing a payment plan with exorbitant interest rates!”
“Hi, son,” Lucía said, sitting down in her favorite armchair. “I told them the truth. That there was a mistake in identifying the responsible family.”
“Mom, for God’s sake!” Marcos shouted, and Lucía could hear the baby crying in the background and Elena’s shrill voice demanding something. “You know we don’t have that money right now! My in-laws are here; it’s embarrassing to be charged in front of them. I thought you’d help us, like always. He’s your grandson!”
“That’s right, Marcos. He’s my grandson.”
“The same grandson I never got to see,” Lucía replied, her voice steady even though her heart ached. “You told me clearly that Elena only wanted her family. You told me I was never wanted. Those words have consequences. If I’m not good enough to be in the room and share in the happiness, I’m not good enough to be on the bill and cover the expenses.”
“That’s reve:n:ge!” he accused.
“No, son. That’s dignity. Why don’t you ask Elena’s parents? They’re there, aren’t they? They’ve enjoyed the baby, the private suite, and the photos. Surely they’ll be happy to pay for the privilege they’ve had.”
