When Lucía and I, Javier, found out we were going to be parents, everything at home changed. She, organized as always, had managed to save $7,000 over months for her maternity leave: prenatal appointments, diapers, unexpected expenses, and to have a small financial cushion for the baby’s first few weeks. I always admired her discipline, although I never said so out loud.
The problem started when my sister, Carolina, called me one night crying. Her partner had left her eight months pregnant, she was unemployed, and she was facing back rent. As the older brother, I felt obligated to help, and without thinking too much, I promised her I would see how I could get her some money. It was an impulsive promise, born more of guilt than reflection.
“Honey… could you lend Carolina the $7,000?” Lucía stopped chopping vegetables. Her face tightened.
“Javier, that money is for our baby. How can you ask me that now?”Continue reading…
