Come Home My Love, Please Come Home
The Spark of Love
It was on a dare, and after much prodding, that Evelyn Gómez had finally decided to join her older sister, Juanita and her new beau Leonard, on a double date to an afternoon minor league baseball game in Houston during the summer of 1938. She didn’t particularly enjoy baseball, nor any other American sport for that matter, but Leonard was bringing one of his best friends, and although she had never met him her sister couldn’t stop raving about his fantastic good looks. Tall, fair skinned, a great dresser and a real gentleman, was how he was described. And, best of all, he had a good job. No promises, no strings attached, this was just going to be a very informal trip to the ballpark. If all went well Juanita was sure the boys would spring for an early dinner and have them home before dark.
Evelyn was barely twenty, a few years younger than Juanita, and had not really dated that much. She’d never had a steady boyfriend, not because she wasn’t attractive, but in those days the pickings were pretty lean in the eligible single men department. The ones she had gone out with were usually Mexican, and were in one way or another related to one her girlfriends. They were brothers and cousins normally, and they all shared several common traits: homely, uneducated, horny and broke. Her experience with dating had so far consisted of going to the occasional movie, where her time was spent fending off clumsy attempts at groping, then being taken straight home via the cheapest public transportation available (city bus, usually), or to some dance club with the end result being about the same. Once home she would go into the kitchen to search for some leftovers since most of her dates hardly ever bought dinner.
Short, a little over five feet tall, she was blessed with a curious nature and a healthy sense of humor. Her eyes were by far her most attractive feature, framed by a round face, thin but sensuous lips and a rich olive complexion. She was a twin, and her brother shared her sense of humor but little else. Where she was industrious and energetic he tended to be a bit lazy and flippant about taking on responsibilities. Her early years had been spent traveling between Houston, San Antonio and Mexico. Her parents, and the sisters and brother when they were old enough, would work in each city for several months, save what money they could, and travel back to Mexico. Since clothing and food was cheaper there they would stock up, stay a few weeks, and then travel back to Texas. Her parents had been born in Mexico, and the Gómez clan lived there, but she and her brother, and all the sisters, had been born in San Antonio, Texas.
With all the traveling back and forth school had been difficult. At about the age of nine, and having just finished the third grade, she returned to Mexico with her family for what was supposed to be a few weeks. A year later the family moved back to Houston and she never returned to school. After all, her father surmised, she could pretty much read, write and speak English well enough already. She and her brother would be more useful at home helping their mother and the other sisters with the cleaning, cooking, washing and mending. The older sisters would continue going to school (although only a couple actually completed high school) since they were just a few years from finishing. Early marriages put an early end to their formal education, and the Gómez family shrunk in size in the next few years until only Evelyn, Juanita and Marcus were accompanying the parents on their pilgrimages to Mexico. By the time Evelyn met Leonard’s friend Robert, she hadn’t been to Mexico in three years.
The afternoon was typically Houston, hot and humid. Leonard drove up in his car and gleefully tooted the horn. Evelyn and Juanita, having been ready for at least two hours stood by the closed door and waited until Leonard’s tooting went from short staccato blasts to long impatient ones. Satisfied that the boys wouldn’t think them too anxious they slowly opened the door and majestically walked out.
Riding shotgun was a young man who could have easily just driven in from Hollywood and Evelyn’s heart skipped a beat. Swinging open the door on the little black Ford sedan Robert Frank De León was wearing a dark gray double-breasted suit and a pair of beautifully spit shined black shoes. On his head sat a black fedora, cocked slightly left, with the brim barely and fashionably shading his eyebrow and cheek. As he stepped out to open the back door for her she noted his neatly trimmed pencil line mustache and his light hazel eyes. She flashed a grand smile and slid into the right rear seat in a swirl and crackle of freshly starched skirts. Juanita popped the other door, jammed an elbow into Evelyn’s side, and with pursed lips and wide eyes mouthed, “See, I told you so.”
Later, after Leonard had parked the car in the grass just short of the left field fence, Robert jumped out and opened the door for her. As she stepped onto the running board she noticed that he had removed his fedora and was holding it behind his back with one hand as he offered her the other. Having had to stare at the back of his hat during the trip to the ball field she tried to remember just exactly what he had looked like in those first few seconds when he opened the door. Now, as she stepped out she took full measure of his face.
In the bright sun his pencil line moustache that she assumed was black had turned out to be red, but his eyebrows were dark and contrasted nicely on his pale face. His smile was dominated by teeth that were not only snow white but perfectly aligned. His skin, well, it was still white but it now seemed tinged with a bit of roguish red around the cheeks. And the sun behind him lit up his ears like red Halloween lanterns. Realizing that she was staring, she quickly looked down at the ground only to see that her foot was about to ruin that beautiful shiny black sheen on Robert’s shiny black shoes.
Whispering a little curse in Spanish (he wouldn’t understand anyway) she tried to cover her clumsiness by feigning a little impatience. Trying to quickly recover she flipped her head back causing a pesky little pin curl, that had taken her half the morning to create, to go sliding off the little pompadour perched on the top of her forehead. Walking quickly around the front of the car to join her sister she noted that he had, in fact not reacted at all to her curse word; assuring her that he did not understand. Most Mexican men, she thought, would’ve either laughed it off, or chastised me for using language reserved for them. Hmm, gringos.
A few hours later some of the glitter of the afternoon date had begun to fade. The ball game was boring, it was hot, and Evelyn had begun to doubt that Robert had any interest in her at all. Oh sure, he was handsome and polite in a “gringo” sort of way, but God, not only was he too pale and skinny, he didn’t seem to be able to speak Spanish! He was spending all his time talking to Leonard about the game and seemed to be ignoring her on purpose. She was sure he thought he was a bit too good for her.
After the boys had gone off for some more refreshments, and as soon as they were safely out of earshot, Evelyn turned to Juanita and through clenched teeth and in heated Spanish, asked her why she set her up with a gringo.
“I don’t know that he is”, quipped Juanita. “Leonard says he makes good money and lives pretty high on the hog.”
Rolling her eyes and turning to stare at her sister she said, “But, he’s a gringo, I can tell. Getting out of the car I tripped and stepped on his shoe, and I said ‘cabrón’.”
“And?” Juanita asked coldly.
“And, he just kept grinning in that stupid gringo way.”
“Maybe he was just being nice.”
“What? You know how men are when they hear women curse. They either shit all over themselves or start lecturing, or they figure you’re some type of whore and an easy mark”. “And”, she continued, “you know the only reason a gringo would agree to date a Mexican girl, don’t you?”
“I think you’re really getting carried away with this.” Juanita said with a heavy tone of impatience. “I really never asked Leonard about Robert’s nationality, and I really don’t care. If you’re going to be stuffy about it just don’t talk to him in Spanish—or at all. I don’t care!”
“OK fine, then I just won’t talk to him!” Evelyn snapped back.
And so, she didn’t. Returning with the refreshments (and probably after a suggestion from Leonard) Robert began to pay a bit of attention to her and started to make small talk. He covered the weather, the pace of life in Houston, fishing conditions in Galveston Bay, and the latest dance craze. It was all for nothing. Evelyn continued to stare out onto the ball field where eighteen other stupid gringos were playing that stupid gringo game. He kept talking.
Finally, in her best English she said, ” Robert, don’t you ever shut up?”
His initial look of shock at the minor insult slowly dissolved into his most winning smile. “Call me Bob, everybody else does.”
Bob? Bob? That did it! Gringo! No God-fearing Mexican male would have a name like “Bob”. Boy, was she going to give Juanita the business when they got home. But Juanita, instead of sharing Evelyn’s shock said sweetly, “Oh, that’s better than Robert. And, you can call me Janie!”
The rest of the date went slowly downhill for Evelyn. He continued to make small talk—but maybe not as enthusiastically as before. She answered his questions and responded to his comments with low and almost unintelligible murmurs consisting of curse words and deathly insults…all in Spanish. No gringo would ever take Evelyn for an easy mark. Nope! In her mind she kept repeating her most favorite declaration: “¡Yo no me dejo de nada or nádie!” (I’m not a pushover for anyone or anything).
On the way home Leonard suggested they all go to a small Mexican restaurant for dinner. Janie asked Evelyn if she wanted to go (in English), and Evelyn responded (in Spanish) that she’d rather dine in Hell with Satan himself than go anywhere with this pale, slick gringo. Janie gave Evelyn the look that all older sisters give when the young one misbehaves. As if on cue they all turned to look at Bob. There he sat with a little smile, blinking his hazel eyes, seemingly at peace with the world. Typical, thought Evelyn.
After dinner Leonard looked at his watch and suggested to Bob that it was time to take the girls home. Bob jumped up and moved behind Evelyn to pull back her chair when she got up. She continued to sit until finally Bob took his hands off the backrest and took a step back. Evelyn slowly got up, never even looking at Bob and walked out to the car.
Settling in for the ride home it was really quiet. Leonard and Janie’s conversation had run out of steam, and Evelyn was continuing with her rude asides in Spanish. Bob started humming. Great! As they pulled up to the Gómez home, Bob stepped out and opened Evelyn’s door. Being careful not to step on anything other than mother earth she kept her eyes to the ground.
As she passed by him, Bob said softly, “I really had a good time and I want to apologize for whatever it was that I did to make you angry. I really like you, and would like to see you again.”
Evelyn stopped cold! What? What did he say? As she slowly turned to face his handsome white smiling face her shock only grew stronger. She wanted to answer…say something…anything. But she couldn’t. She turned back and started toward her front porch, her heart racing. The sharp volt of shock went through her body as she realized that the words he had used were in Spanish. She was quickly beginning to feel a heavy cloud of shame. As her foot took the first step she again heard his voice:
“Allí nos vemos, mi hermosita.” Bob said sweetly. (We’ll see each other again, my little beauty).
His Spanish had been flawless, melodious, and it echoed wildly in her head. Her heart sank, then swelled, and she thought she was going to faint. He not only spoken beautiful Spanish, but now she realized that he had understood everything she’d been saying to him the entire day. Mostly insults.
“Dios mío, ¿qué he hecho?” (My God, what have I done?), was the only thing she kept repeating over and over in her mind.
Several days later her mood had gone from panic and remorse to anger and humiliation. How could he have done that to me? She thought angrily. He knew that I was making a fool of myself when I was saying all those insulting things in Spanish and all he did was smile! God, I hate him! And if I ever get the chance I will pay him back!!
A few days later, and seemingly in a good mood, Evelyn asked her sister if she was planning on seeing Leonard anytime soon.
“Sure, we’re planning on going out somewhere this weekend, why?”
“Well”, Evelyn said quietly, “I was thinking that maybe instead of just you and Leonard going out you could invite him—oh, and his friend Bob, over here for dinner.”
“I thought you didn’t like him!” Janie asked, a bit surprised.
“Oh, he’s OK. But I just felt that we got off on the wrong foot and I thought maybe by having him come over here we could be a bit more comfortable and get to know each other better. You know, the way to a man’s heart?”
“¡Tonta!” Janie spit out. “I swear I can’t make heads or tails of you. I’ll have to ask to see if Leonard can get him to come over! I don’t know if he’ll even want to after you treated him so badly.”
“Bueno mira (look), we could find out what he likes to eat and maybe cook it up for him.”
“Hmph!” Janie grunted. “You mean me cook it up, don’t you? You know you don’t cook so well.”
“Sí, tú o yo, either one, or both of us. Pero mira, maybe instead of finding out what he likes we could find out what he doesn’t like, so we don’t make something he won’t like to eat.”
“No se (I don’t know). Pero, ummm… I’ll ask and let you know.”
The following Friday afternoon after Evelyn had returned from a little part time job she had gotten at a local olive packing factory, Janie found her and said, “Well, if you still want to have Bob and Leonard come over for dinner it’ll have to be Sunday afternoon because they both work on Saturday.”
“Oh, that’s fine,” Evelyn said. “Do you know what they don’t like?”
“Bueno pués, Leonard likes everything, and so does Bob—well, except for tongue. Bob said he doesn’t like beef tongue. But everything else is OK.”
“Humph!”, Evelyn snorted. “Who would even think of serving tongue to someone who’s coming over for dinner the first time anyway? That’s crazy.”
“Well, now you know. Any ideas on what we can cook?”
“A mí me gusta el menudo,” Evelyn stated. “You think menudo would be OK?”
“¿Como no?” Janie responded. “¡A todos los Mexicanos les gusta el menudo!”
“Good!” Evelyn said enthusiastically. “But I want to make it on my own. ¡Yo sola!”
“Are you sure?” Janie quizzed, a little surprised.
“¡Sí! I want to make a good impression on Bob.”
“OK, ¿quieres que vaya a las compras contigo? (You want me to go shopping with you?)
“No, no es necesario,” Evelyn said emphatically. “Ya sé lo que tengo que comprar.” (I know what I have to buy). “No es la primera vez que prepare el menudo.” (It’s not the first time I’ve made menudo).
Saturday evening Evelyn busied herself in the kitchen until very late, making all the preparations for the menudo that had to simmer for hours before it could be served the following day. Janie had told her she’d prepare the salad and maybe make some buñuelos for dessert. Evelyn thought that would be a grand idea.
Dinner Is Served
For the special day Janie and Evelyn had gotten up early and made sure the little home the family had been renting was sparkling. They had even asked the next-door neighbor, an elderly widow living on her husband’s pension, if she might have a nice dressy table cloth to cover the plain wooden dining table. The neighbor went one further and gave them some really nicely embroidered cushions to put on the seats of the hardwood chairs.
“Can’t have the nice boys sitting on hard chairs while enjoying the taste of menudo and the sight of two pretty women, ¿verdad?” She said, with a little twinkle in her eye.
Right on time the two guests arrived. Leonard was wearing a white silk shirt, open at the collar, and a pair of navy gabardine slacks. Bob, on the other hand, was again dressed to the nines. A dark gray double-breasted sharkskin jacket was neatly buttoned over a stiffly starched white dress shirt collared with a deep red silk tie expertly knotted in a half Windsor. A sharply pleated pair of light gray slacks hung at just the right length over a new pair of richly buffed cordovans. Hatless today, his hair was glossy and slicked back with a razor sharp part highlighting his shiny white scalp.
Evelyn momentarily forgot the reason they were there; forgot how to breathe and almost forgot her own name. Before she could mumble any kind of greeting, Bob produced a small bouquet of fresh flowers in pink tissue paper.
“Para ti, hermosita”, he said while locking her with his gaze.
“¿Qué?” She managed to say.
“Evelyn!! Janie finally said with a little annoyance in her voice. “Take the flowers and put them in water! Come on, what’s wrong with you?”
“Oh, nothing. Sí, water.” And with that Evelyn broke the lock Bob’s eyes had put on her and off she went in search of a vase.
Returning from the kitchen and recomposed, she placed the flowers in the center of the table. Janie had shown the boys into the tiny front room that performed multiple duties depending on who was home at the time and what the occasion was. Today it was a neat little living room.
There was no couch or love seat but four raggedly ancient overstuffed chairs had been strategically positioned in the room and covered in gaily colored sheets—also serving double duty.
Seeing Evelyn enter the room Bob immediately stood up from his chair and offered it to her with a grand sweep of his hand.
“No, gracias,” she stuttered. “I can sit over there.”
He sat back down with sigh, crossed his long legs and locked her with his gaze again.
The richly pungent aroma of simmering menudo hanging heavily in the warm and humid air finally reminded Evelyn and Janie that small talk and lingering looks between Bob and Evelyn had to come to a close. Evelyn hurried into the kitchen to tend to the pot while Janie brought the salad out to the table. The two men stood, and while removing their jackets smiled knowingly at each other.
Evelyn took everyone’s salad bowls to the sink and returned to the dining room with four larger bowls and mismatched soupspoons.
“¿Todos quieren menudo?” she asked tentatively.
“¡Sí!” was the unanimous response. And off she went to the kitchen to pour the steaming menudo from the large pot into a smaller serving bowl.
After serving everyone she whispered, almost to herself, that she hoped everyone liked the way she cooked the menudo. Dipping the large soupspoons into the broth and getting their first taste they all shook their heads and made yummy-like sounds.
Well, everyone except Janie. After having her first taste of the soup she spooned out a portion of what supposed to be tripe. Taking a tentative bite out of the chunk of flesh with only her front teeth, she chewed twice and began to glare at Evelyn.
Ignoring her sister’s burning stare Evelyn began eating the menudo with gusto. Glancing at Bob she asked, “¿Te gusta?”
“This is the best menudo I’ve ever tasted!” he replied, and scooped up a big serving of beef tripe.
“Hmmm, that’s good, Bob,” she said. “Leonard? How do you like it?”
“Yes, it really good”, Leonard replied, but what’s the meat? I don’t think it’s tripe, is it?”
“No”, Evelyn proudly announced. “The butcher didn’t have fresh tripe so I bought beef tongue instead. It almost tastes the same. Don’t you think, Bob?”
Janie’s eyes were darting back and forth while holding her napkin tightly against her mouth.
Without missing a beat, Bob scooped up another chunk of tongue and slurped it off the spoon. Busily chewing the rubbery meat he cheerily said, “Best menudo ever!”
Take Me Lord, It’s Over
In January of 1939, Bob and Evelyn were married in Houston, Texas. To save money they arranged to have the ceremony and a small reception at her sister Janie’s house. Her parents did not attend because they were in Mexico, and his parents had died many years ago. Leonard served as the best man and Janie was the maid of honor.
He asked that none of his siblings attend.
Their official wedding portrait shows two young people in the prime of life, she sweetly smiling, and he with a serious look of self-confidence and a little hint of a smile. The small bulge under Evelyn’s white laced wedding dress, not noticeable to anyone at this stage, would’ve been the only flaw in this otherwise blissful scene. Their union would fitfully endure for more than fifty years. But finally, in the end, it would die a slow and excruciatingly painful death.
The sweet dreams and wildly high expectations this young couple once had entertained would eventually succumb to the black bitterness of unfaithfulness and taste the deep despair that inevitably accompanies extreme loneliness and desperation. Evelyn’s last day on earth would dawn on the white crispness of fresh hospital linen and in the soft warming light of the morning sun strained through the glass of a thick thermal hospital window.
Having been in a deep coma for six months, the fragile glow of her life would begin to slowly fade away as the tumor growing in her brain cruelly choked off her robust determination to live. And with a small, almost unperceivable shudder, she left this earth to finally rest forever.
On that cool and sunny November day as her broken heart faltered and slowly stopped, the spark of her sad life flickered weakly. After so many years of loneliness she had finally arrived at the end of her long, lonely, and futile vigil: Fruitlessly searching the dark empty horizon for Robert. Then she prayed her eternal prayer one last time: Please God, bring my only true love back home to me now. Please…..God.
She died alone.
Thanks! FD
Both paid and modified by me.
Thanks,
FD