By the time Dolores reached the gates of her son’s large house, her dress was damp from the drizzle and her shoes caked with mud. A shiny car sat in the driveway, reflecting the kind of success she had always prayed for him to achieve.
She pressed the doorbell. “Ting-ting.”
“What do you need, Nanay?” she asked flatly, eyeing Dolores from head to toe.
“I came to see Ramón,” Dolores said gently. “I just need a word with him, dear.”
The woman frowned, then disappeared inside.
Moments later, Ramón appeared in the doorway. He looked polished, confident—holding a phone in one hand, a gold watch glinting under the porch light. But behind that success was a trace of impatience.
“Mom, I’m really busy right now,” he said, stepping forward. “What’s wrong?”
Dolores handed him her medical report, her fingers trembling. “The doctor says I need surgery soon. It’s for my heart. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t serious. Could you… lend me a little money? When your brother sells the rice harvest, I’ll pay you back.”
Ramón’s face tightened. He glanced at his wife, who was standing just behind him, arms crossed.
Continue reading…
