By Marianne Urth

He who can be a good son will be a good father.
 ~Author Unknown

Maureen was on her way to Angelo´s school. The counselor had called her in for a meeting. There had been another incident.
Lately she had had to go to a lot of meetings with the teachers and the counselor to listen to their advice and warnings. She mostly went alone because Miguel was either travelling or had important meetings. ‘As if this wasn’t important,’ Maureen thought whilst she swung her car into a parking space in the school's parking lot.
It was an unusually warm autumn morning and the yellow and red leaves made a beautiful contrast to the blue sky and the snow covered Andes mountains in the background. She took a deep breath, then hurried up the stairs to the main entrance. Her red curly hair was tangled in the shoulder strap of her handbag and she moved her head with an irritated jerk; she was late again.
The counselor was already seated next to the Principal and Angelo´s teacher when Maureen walked in. Again she wished Miguel was there, at least to help her with the Spanish. She understood almost everything after having lived in Chile for five years, but when it came to defending her son´s right to stay in this school despite his bad grades and unsociable behavior, she wasn’t sure her Spanish would be sufficient. In this country it also helped tremendously if you knew somebody within the organization who could put a word in for you. Maureen thought of her mother-in-law, Maria Angelica, a renowned lawyer from one of the old well-to-do-families, would be the person to ask. Maureen wasn’t ready to plead for her help just yet. Up until now it had only been an issue between the school and her.
Bienvenida Mrs. Peña,” said the counselor. She had friendly eyes; her short grey hair a novelty in the land of long, dyed haired women even amongst the middle aged.
Buenos dias,” Maureen wasn’t sure whether to greet them with a kiss on the cheek or just shake hands. She looked around the table, smiling, clutching her handbag in front of her; unable to decide, she sat down.
“We are worried about Miguel Angelo, Mrs. Peña,” the teacher said in Spanish. “He doesn’t seem to have any interest in his school work and his grades continue going down.” She held a piece of paper in front of Maureen. “To be honest I don't know if we can let him pass 5th grade.” The teacher looked at the Principal, then back at Maureen. “It´s really difficult to help him, when he doesn’t want to communicate with anybody. Is everything all right at home, Mrs. Peña?” She reached out to touch Maureen´s arm.
“Everything is absolutely fine.” Maureen tried to sound calm. She moved around on the chair to get away from the teacher´s well meant touch. She felt her foot twitching under the table. “At home we talk. He talks,” she stammered.
This morning he had been playing on his phone at the breakfast table, refusing to eat anything. She had tried to get him to tell her about his new computer game, anything to start a conversation, but he just shrugged, didn’t even look up when he uttered his usual irritated, ‘Ah, Mamá, just leave me alone.’
“Well, Mrs. Peña, I think you should consider taking him to a psychiatrist. There might be something more to this than just moodiness. He doesn’t seem to have many friends either.”
It wasn't as if Maureen hadn't thought about it before, but where she came from, seeking professional help was like admitting something was terribly wrong; so she had dismissed it, telling herself that it was probably just pre-adolescent mood changes and nothing to worry about.
When the meeting was over, Maureen felt relieved. There was still a chance Angelo wouldn’t have to repeat, on the condition she got him a tutor and he improved his grades. In her pocket, her fingers touched the note with the recommended psychiatrist’s telephone number. The counselor and the teacher had laid out a path for her. ‘Life was easier when others told you what to do.


Miguel drove his car into the driveway. His mother´s Mercedes wasn't there, ‘she must have gone out,’ he thought. When Miguel had finished law school, his mother had decided to rebuild the house completely, made herself what she had named ‘a gorgeous little apartment’ downstairs and left the second floor for Miguel. There was plenty of space, so it was only natural that Maureen moved in with him after they were married.  
It was already dark outside. He could see the light was turned on in the main bedroom on the second floor. Maureen was probably watching television and Miguel Angel in his room stuck to the computer screen.
Sometimes Miguel worried about Maureen; she looked so fragile and dependent on him. She didn’t have many friends, didn’t seem to need them. She wasn’t like other women he knew, take his own mother, who constantly sought an audience to act in front of; she went to lunches and arranged dinner parties, and that way made sure she was always the centerpiece. Maureen was quite the opposite; she preferred being alone. She was a good listener and enjoyed hearing about his day when he came home from the office. Miguel wasn’t always sure what Maureen did all day, but she never seemed bored. Often times, he would find her curled up in her favorite chair with a book and a cup of tea; she wouldn’t even notice him entering the room.  
He never got tired of seeing her like that. Her almost transparent skin, the barely visible freckles, the broad forehead bent over a book, her long legs nonchalantly tucked under her. A posture which for him was the purest image of her spirit; his woman patiently waiting for him to come home, her unconditional loyalty towards him, which he couldn’t live without.
“Hi Darling, how was your day?” Miguel gave her a light kiss on the mouth. She put her book down and stretched like a cat who had been sleeping in the sun, one limb at the time. He took off his tie and threw it in a chair next to him.
“I had a meeting with Angelo´s teacher today,“ Maureen said. “They want him to go to see a psychiatrist. They suggested one who has a lot of experience in cases like his.”
“Well, that sounds like a good plan. What´s his name?” Miguel was getting out of his office clothes.
“It´s a she. Espinosa. Alicia Espinosa.”
“…eh”
“Is anything wrong, honey?” She said
“No, but there is something with that name, my mother had an issue with her I think.” He came back into the bedroom and sat on the bed. “Let’s ask my mother? She knows all the doctors worth knowing in this country. But tell me, what did the teacher say, is he going to pass?”


“Come on, Angelo. Hurry up. Grandma is waiting for us.” Maureen was standing in the door, keeping it open so she could lock it after Angelo, but he came down the stairs taking his time about it.
“Will you please hurry,” Miguel shouted out of the open car window, he had been ready for fifteen minutes and hated being late, especially on a day like this. His mother had invited sixty people for her birthday party, which was to be held in a restaurant in town. She had asked Miguel to stand at the door with her to receive the visitors. Miguel had argued that it wasn’t exactly a wedding, and there was no need for such an exaggerated welcoming committee, but María Angelica had had her way, as always.
“What's wrong with you, Angelo? I am sure you can do without your video game for a couple of hours.” Maureen looked at him and brushed his hair away from his forehead with two hands. “You need a haircut, cariño,” she said. Angelo pushed past her and got into the car.
“Did you give your computer a bear hug before leaving?” Miguel was in a good mood. Maureen often wondered where he got all his energy and optimism. “Did you tell it that you will be home soon?”
“You are so funny, Dad!”


The party was a success. María Angélica had received all her guests in a white low cut dress, decorated with silver palettes and pearls sewn into the edges of the front cut. Maureen wasn’t sure if it was the effect of the pearls or if there was an actual radiation coming from her mother-in-law that made everybody look grey and lifeless next to her. Her beautiful dark brown hair, perfectly dyed, was windblown and combed back to give it volume. The big pearl earrings accentuating her elegant style but it was the Ferrari red painted lips, which were constantly moving in different versions of a smile, revealing a regular line of laser whitened teeth, which made an almost overwhelming impression when you first met her.
Maureen admired her mother-in-law´s public relations skills, but she knew there were two sides to the glamorous façade. Tonight´s perfect look contrasted her many grey days as Maureen called them. Her mother-in-law would stay in bed sometimes for days, watching television, not eating, not even drinking the tea Miguel brought her until he finally was able to persuade her to get dressed and come up for dinner.  
The year they had moved back from the States and into Maria Anglica’s house had been particularly bad, maybe the fact that they had brought a child into the household had been too stressful for her mother-in-law. She never seemed to develop a close relation with her grandson; it was as if she avoided him.
Seeing Maria Angelica at the door welcoming her birthday guests, Maureen couldn't help noticing the superficial tone in her voice.
“Carmen Gloria, long time no see! Where have you been hiding you naughty girl?” She leaned forward, kissing her friend on the cheek, patting her with her slim, ballet dancer arm, rattling her golden bracelets. María Angélica lowered her voice just enough for everybody to pay extra attention to the next phrase “Barely divorced and one never sees you again. Who are you seeing?” The newly divorced Carmen Gloria adjusted her shawl with a nervous smile, but María Angélica continued unaffected, flashing a smile, ”you can't possibly imagine how much I have missed you.”
Two seconds later, when María Angélica had turned to the next long lost friend, the expensive Dior perfume impregnated on Carmen Gloria´s cheek would be the only evidence that they had ever spoken.
“Maureen, let me introduce you to Dr. Carter, the best psychiatrist in town.” María Angélica and Miguel approached her accompanied by a short, chubby, bald man wearing greasy, thick glasses. “Mr. Carter, this is Miguel´s wife. She has some issues with my grandson. I really hope you can help her, this poor gringa doesn’t know anybody here.” Mr. Carter reached up to kiss Maureen on her cheek. She could feel how his lips touched her skin in a wet slow motion kiss. He had clearly had too much to drink.
Maureen reached out for Miguel´s arm, she felt a shiver going through her body, as if her knees were going to collapse. Being labeled as the poor gringa didn't help. It made her feel defenseless and insecure like she felt so many times before when in company with her mother-in-law.
But Miguel was out of reach. María Angélica had other plans for her son, she pulled him away with an impatient tug in his sleeve “Darling, come and meet the supreme judge´s wife. Can you believe they actually accepted my invitation?” They strode off, the two famous lawyers Peña e Hijos, mother and son, the perfect team and against the excuse of work, there was nothing to be argued, that was a lesson Maureen had already learned.
“I only see patients at the Psychiatric Hospital,” Dr. Carter said, stepping closer to her, his breath foul-smelling of alcohol. “You don’t mind coming to see me there, do you?” His lethargic voice made her think of an old turtle.
“No, no of course not,” Maureen smiled and looked away, already working out an excuse in her head. She would do anything to avoid going to a Psychiatric Hospital; besides Mr. Carter didn’t seem to be the right kind of doctor for her son. He must have sensed she wasn’t convinced about his skills.
“I have helped the family before, you know?” he smirked his lips in a self-sufficient grin.
“You have?” Maureen looked at him. “And who did you help?” He had her attention now. She didn’t know of Miguel seeing a psychiatrist but Maureen wouldn’t be surprised if her mother-in-law had been consulting Dr. Carter.
“There is a sister,” Dr. Carter said. “I guess, I shouldn’t really be talking about this.”
“A sister? What happened to her?” Maureen could feel a rush of adrenaline, she had never heard of a sister.
“She´s.....” the doctor rolled his eyes whilst he circulated his index finger next to his temple.

Somehow, Maureen managed to get away from the doctor and went out to look for Angelo. She felt betrayed by Miguel. He had a sister she had never heard of. Why hadn't he told her? Why was it a secret? Her head was spinning, she needed to go home and think.
She found Angelo sitting by himself on a sofa in front of the large fireplace. A knot of sadness tied inside her stomach, he was alone too. Her little boy, shying from other people. She felt a sting of guilt, she was the adult, the mother who was expected to protect him from feeling lonely. The one who was supposed to teach him to overcome his shyness; but how could she do that, hardly knowing herself how to fight it?
Cariño, are you tired? Should we go home?” Maureen touched his shoulder.
“Yes, Mama,” he said without looking up at her. She gave his shoulder a squeeze.
“I'll tell Dad we are leaving.”


Maureen lay awake in bed until Miguel came home. She could hear him saying goodnight to his mother in the hall before he walked up the stairs with slow, tired steps. Maureen wasn’t sure what to do. Should she confront him and ask him right out? But since Miguel had never confessed it to her, why would he want to do it now? She had always felt she had his complete loyalty and confidence but why hadn’t he trusted her with this? What was he scared of?
He crawled under the cover, snuggling up to her to get warm. She turned around so she could catch a glimpse of his face. He had closed his eyes.
“Honey, can I ask you something?” She whispered. “About something Dr. Carter said?”
Miguel´s body tensed, he didn’t open his eyes. “Hmm, shouldn't we sleep?” he said and turned his back to her.
“Do you have a sister?” She held her breath and waited for his answer. There was a long silence; so long Maureen started to doubt he had heard the question.
“Yes, I do,” Miguel voice was almost inaudible. He sounded like he was crying. Maureen had never seen him cry.
“Why is it a secret? What´s wrong with her?”
“I don’t know. She is in a mental hospital. My mother never wanted to tell me much. I have never met her. It became a subject we would never talk about with my mother, I sensed it made her too upset.”
“Was she born like that?” She asked.
“I am not sure. Honey, let´s talk about it another day, I am too tired.” Maureen lay for a while thinking about what to say next when she heard him snore. He was asleep.


Maureen was sitting on the terrace looking at the autumn colored garden with a cup of tea when the doorbell rang. A lot of questions were still going through her head. She had wanted to ask Miguel more questions about his sister but he didn’t seem to want to talk about her. Weeks had past since the birthday party but Maureen hadn't found the right moment to bring up the subject. Maybe it wasn’t a big issue for Miguel and he had put the whole story behind him or it had been silenced by María Angélica. But Maureen wanted to know what was wrong with her. What had made her ill?
She walked around the house through the garden to see who was at the gate. An elderly looking lady was standing with something in her hands, it looked like a pie covered with a tea towel. Her shoulders hunched a tiny bit forward, her grey hair was gathered in a bun and some loose hairs had fallen out of the hair-do, framing her wrinkled face, giving her a peaceful expression. She was wearing a skirt and a hand knitted cardigan that reminded Maureen of her mother before she got sick.
“Can I help you?” Maureen said.
“I am looking for Mrs. Peña,” the old lady said. “It´s the birthday cake.”
Maureen looked surprised, it wasn't María Angélica’s birthday today but maybe the old lady had gotten the dates mixed up.
“She is not here, but maybe I can take it for her if you like?” Maureen stretched out her hands and looked out on the street for the car that had brought the old lady up the hill, but the street was empty; the lady must have walked all the way from the bus stop. She looked exhausted.
“Would you like to have a little rest? Maureen pointed at the garden bench.
“Thank you, that´s very kind of you,” she said, “my legs aren't what they used to be.”
The old lady sat down with a sigh. Then she peeked at Maureen with her brown friendly eyes and said.
“I´m Laila Lopez. I used to work here for Mrs. Peña.”
“Oh I see, well let me get you something to drink.” Maureen still had the pie in her hands. She went to the kitchen and came back with two cups of tea.
“The pie looks delicious.” She sat down next to the old lady. “I´m Maureen, Miguel´s wife,” she said.
“So nice to meet you,” Laila said, “I know your husband since he was a tiny baby. He was such a sweet boy. That time when Mrs. Peña went to the United States, he thought I was his mom.”
“Did she go to the United States leaving you alone here with the children?”
“Yes, she was gone for a whole year. She went to university there. Elena missed her so much. I don't think Don Miguel remembers anything, he was only a baby.”
“Elena is Miguel´s sister?”
“You don't know the story about Elena?” Laila sounded surprised. “It´s a very sad story, she got a depression and didn't want to live anymore. She was only twelve years old. Mrs. Peña was back from the United States but she didn't realize how sick Elena was and the medicine didn't help.”
“What happened to her?” Maureen said.
“She took a lot of pills, tried to commit suicide and her brain was left without blood for too long. She survived but she is now in a mental home. She needs help for everything, eating, going to the toilet.” Laila looked at Maureen with sad eyes. “Mrs. Peña doesn't want to visit her,” Laila continued. “It makes her too sad.”
“Does she recognize María Angélica?”
“I don't think so,” Laila said. “She just sits all day, but today is Elena´s birthday. I always bring Mrs. Peña a cake so she will remember her little girl. Pie de limon was Elena’s favorite”


That same afternoon, Maureen had decided to take matters into her own hands; she needed to find someone to talk to. That person definitely wasn’t Mr. Carter, so she had called the psychiatrist who had been recommended by the counselor at school, Alicia Espinosa.
“Mrs. Peña, what can I do for you?” Dr. Espinosa said. Maureen sensed with one glance in Dr. Espinosa´s eyes that she was a person with a lot of life experience and someone she could trust.
“I’m so glad you could see me immediately. I'm here because of my son,” Maureen said. “He´s eleven years old now and he has been having problems in school, doesn’t seem to have many friends. He is not very talkative, more like extremely shy. I mean, I am a little bit like that but not…,” she had to stop herself, the words came bubbling out of her like water from an underground spring and she could feel tears filling her eyes.
Dr. Espinosa smiled, “you are not from here, are you?”
“No, but I have been living here for five years.” Maureen dried her eyes.
“Let me see.” Dr. Espinosa looked at her journal. “Your son's name is Miguel Angel Peña you said. Your husband is Miguel Peña, the famous family lawyer?”
“Yes,” Maureen said reluctantly. She was used to these questions, she called it the Box Accommodating Procedure. When you were introduced to new people, they would always ask who you were married to because your foreign surname didn’t give any clues to family fortune, then where you lived, and which school your kids attended, because decent people lived in decent suburbs and their kids went to decent schools, but Maureen hadn't expected the doctor to be doing the social class checklist.
“Sorry for asking, but I happen to know the story of the Peña family. Elena was my patient.” Maureen frowned, now she understood why Miguel had been hesitant when he heard Dr. Espinosa name. His mother had probably blacklisted her to keep the secret safe.
Dr. Espinosa looked straight at Maureen. “I assume you know the story?” She said.
Maureen nodded, “Yes, but nobody in the family wants to talk about it, not even my husband. That's also why I am here. I am worried that Elena´s depression could be hereditary.”
“Well, I guess it is not really professional of me to tell you anything about my patient but since it involves your family, I think I ought to inform you. Elena had dysthymia, which is a sort of mild chronic depression with few mood symptoms, so we tend to ignore them but when it´s not treated in time, it can lead to suicide.” Dr. Espinosa put a hand under her chin. “Dysthymia is a hereditary illness but when you are diagnosed in time, there are high probabilities that you can keep the depression under control.”


After the meeting with Dr. Espinosa, Maureen drove straight to Miguel´s office. He was in a meeting with the board of directors. It was clearly not the right moment to disturb him.
“What´s wrong? Did something happen to Angelo?” Miguel said when he had been called out of the meeting.
“Darling, I am sorry to interrupt but this is urgent,” Maureen said. “I know what happened to your sister. She wasn’t born handicapped; she tried to commit suicide when she was twelve years old. Did you know that?”
Miguel stared at her.
“Your mother left you alone with a nana when you were a little baby. Elena couldn't cope, she got a depression.”  
“Miguel!” María Angélica called out, she was the president of the board.  
“I understand living in a catholic country, suicide is not something you talk about, but depression can be hereditary and you need to know about it and recognize the symptoms in time.” Maureen was speaking faster now; she sensed she didn’t have much time.
“Miguel, don’t leave us waiting!” María Angélica had also walked out of the meeting.
Maureen grabbed Miguel’s arm and lowered her voice. “Your mother is not healthy company for any of us, and especially not for Angelo the way he is feeling at the moment. Darling, we need to get help for Angelo and find our own place.” She had ended the phrase in a whisper.
“Miguel, what can possibly be so urgent that you have to interrupt the board meeting? For Heaven’s sake,” she said exasperated, then she saw Maureen “What brings you here?”
“Well, I was telling Miguel that we need to put Angelo in another school, for him to start all over again.”
Miguel didn't say anything, he couldn’t take his eyes off Maureen. He had never seen her so determined before.
“But that is something we can talk about at home, I am sure! It is not a decision that has to be made right now at this moment, is it Miguel?” María Angélica looked at her son, unable to hide her irritation. “Let’s go back to the meeting, Miguel.” She turned around and started walking back towards the meeting room. “Come on,” she said and patted her thigh, as if calling a dog to order.
Miguel didn’t move. He looked like he suddenly had realized something extremely important. He reached out for Maureen’s hand.
“Mother,” he said. María Angélica stopped in her tracks. “I am going to go with Maureen to the International School to see if we can get Angelo accepted. I am sure you can manage the board.” He walked toward his mother to give her a goodbye kiss, then he put his arm around Maureen’s shoulders and together they walked out of the office.


Maureen studied Miguel as he drove. He looked relaxed and content. Angelo was sitting in the back seat; he had been to see Dr. Espinosa again today and was in a talkative mood. He had become so much more communicative over the last year. Dr. Espinosa had suggested he go to a climbing summer camp and he was trying to convince his parents that it was okay to send him there for two weeks.
Cariño, we are going to miss you so much. We won't be able to sleep at night.” Miguel said. “We would need to go there too and hold the safety ropes when you climb.” It was obvious even to Angelo that he was joking.
“But Dad, it´s going to be so much fun and it is only for two weeks. Come on, you have to learn to let me go. I will be thirteen next week, I can do it!”
Miguel looked at Maureen, smiling. He held out his hand and she took it.
“Then we should go camping too. Where would you like to camp? In the front or the back garden?” He said as he drove up the driveway to their new house. 


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