Dolores´Choice

By PATRICIA ASEDEGBEGA

Fifteen-year-old Dolores had no clue where her life was headed, but the teenager was certain of two things: one, that she had no intention of remaining in Granada and being forced to inherit the family business, and two, that no matter how much her parents insisted, the information imparted in school would not be of great use to her when she became an adult and a responsible member of society. No, something would surely happen to change the carefully mapped-out plans the adults in her life had for her. And one day it does; Dolores falls in love, and in her state of euphoria, makes a decision that has drastic and unexpected consequences, not just for her, but for her nearest and dearest. Dolores´ Choice is a read that will tug at your heartstrings and is packed with emotions, intrigue and a small dose of humour that will make you unable to stop turning the pages to find out the conclusion to the journey Dolores embarks on.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patricia´s Pen
• Release date: Jul 17, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201212797

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DOLORES’ CHOICE

PATRICIA ASEDEGBEGA

COPYRIGHT INFORMATION

© Patricia Asedegbega Nieto - 2021

Cover illustration by Linda Doyle

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrievable system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the permission of the author and copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or created for a fictitious scenario. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

"Can a mother forget her infant,

be without tenderness for the child of her womb?

Even should she forget,

I will never forget you.

See, upon the palms of my hands I have engraved you;..."

Isaiah 49:15-16

New American Bible, revised edition

For my parents, Jonah and Mª del Carmen Asedegbega, who returned to Granada 46 years after they left, taking on the role of seasoned tour guides as they shared with us their memories of the city they had lived in as newlyweds.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

AUTHOR’S NOTE

PROLOGUE

PART ONE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

PART TWO

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

PART THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

EPILOGUE

SOMEWHERE IN LISBON…

OTHER TITLES BY THE AUTHOR:

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Whenever I publish a book, I get asked: Is it in Spanish? or Is it in English? My answer would invariably make one set of readers happy. Every book, regardless of the language that I write it in, is different; the suggestion that I could simultaneously write in both languages, I simply found boring. I would be excited about the first one, but the second would just end up becoming a chore. I considered translating Rewind as it is a book that a lot of my Spanish-speaking readers have loved. However, another plot started brewing in my mind which gave birth to other characters and subsequently, the book Dolores’ Choice was born. Maybe because both novels are ‘children’ of mine and I created them from scratch, I had the privilege of having a front-row seat to watch their plots unfold and their characters develop and mature. So, with this knowledge, I can say that the essence of the original book, Rewind, though hidden, is still interwoven in the storyline with one or two scenes that just had to feature in both, but told from a different perspective. I do hope, dear reader, that the story captivates you and makes you feel like getting on a bus, a train or a plane en route to Granada, the city with one of the most beautiful sunsets in the world (if not the most beautiful sunset).

PROLOGUE

27th August, 2020

The square felt oddly the same. She had been worried she would not be able to visit on the anniversary, and had been waiting anxiously for the government to lift the state of alarm and for the red tape circling the area and preventing people from entering to be removed. She had summoned the courage to visit the previous year, despite the fear of the memories hitting her, and had decided that she owed it to herself to be there every year, retracing the same steps to what had proven to be the most important decision she had ever made.

This year, everything was different, with the pandemic and the health and safety restrictions that had been put in place. After the months she had spent in isolation and knowing that things were still far from fine, she tended to be cautious; a lot of people had tried to get back to some form of normality and one could see them sitting and having a drink in the terrace of a bar, but she was not ready for that and only went out when necessary - but this was important. At least, it was to her.

So Dolores had worn her mask and walked for an hour to get there; she did not trust the bus or any form of public transport yet. Sometimes, people got too close for comfort and did not respect the required safety distance. No, she could not afford to take any chances.

Taking out a wipe, she cleaned the bench on which she had sat that fateful day. It would have been upsetting to find it occupied. She had been worried about that possibility on the way there - would she be able to summon the courage to ask the person to please let her have the bench? The young woman did not think so. She would have waited, eyeing it from a distance, waiting for her chance to pounce on it and claim ownership. However, she felt relief that she hadn't had to do so.

Just like the day she was there to remember, things were basically the same. The sky was clear and free of dark clouds. There were pigeons walking around the square, looking for something to eat. People sometimes left food behind, or there could be crumbs on the ground. Dolores thought back, trying to recall the emotions she had experienced that day. She remembered how nervous she had been, a terrible sensation in the pit of her stomach, the paper with her appointment written on, crumpled in her right hand. She had repeatedly clenched and unclenched her fist, staring at the building she was about to walk into.

Dolores looked at it now; it had been freshly painted but it was still the same place, the large signboard identifying the kind of place it was… Except for this day of the year, she avoided this street always, taking alternate routes to wherever she had to get to, even if it took longer to arrive at her destination. Whenever she was near the area, she felt overwhelmed by a feeling of dread. It was a reminder of the time in her life when she had hit rock bottom and felt like there was no way she would get back on her feet again. It had all been too much for her. She had felt like a broken toy, discarded and unwanted because it could not be fixed.

Closing her eyes, she returned to that day. She had been almost eighteen, and pregnant. Elena had escorted her to the clinic a few days earlier and waited outside as she saw the doctor, who had painted a pretty picture of all that it would entail and how her life would get back on track in no time. She had been given an appointment for the procedure that she was convinced was the only possible solution to her dilemma. So why had she felt the way she had? It had been five minutes before her appointment and she remembered talking herself into getting up, and had finally been just about to do so when she had felt someone sit next to her.

Not sure about what you’re about to do, are you?

Dolores had looked at the old woman in shock, not understanding why she would say that, but those words had been directed at her and for a second, she’d wondered if she was all there.

The small, white-haired woman had looked at her earnestly as Dolores tried to judge her mental state. I live in a flat across the street. I see a lot of girls just like you just sit and stare at that building. Sometimes when I’m on my way to the bakery I sit and talk to them, the ones who’ll listen. Like now. You seem to be struggling. Maybe you need someone to talk to, so it’s a blessing that I ran out of bread. I’m really a very good listener.

The familiar brown bread bag had sat on the bench between them, giving her claim credibility. The woman had patted her knee in encouragement, but Dolores did not want to unburden herself - of what use would that be?

I’ve decided to do this. Nothing you could possibly say can change my mind. I have the money. She had stood up nervously, just wanting to get it all over with.

The woman had some similarities with Luisa, an aunt of her mother's, and that had added to her discomfort. She tried to think about her as little as possible, but from time to time, the memory of her winking cheekily at her as she snuck her a sweet after her mother had asked her not to, knowing from experience that it would spoil her appetite, would resurface and remind her of all that she had lost.

The woman had continued her line of questioning. What about your family? Do they know? Why are you here alone?

I don’t have one, had been Dolores’ simple reply, the only reply she had felt was an appropriate description of her life at that precise moment.

So, maybe this will be the only family you have from now on, the old woman had said. "I don’t know your situation, but hard as it might be for you to believe, I was young once, and I thought I knew everything that was going to happen to me. I had it all calculated and figured out. Now I’m seventy-eight and I can tell you I didn’t have a clue, just like I don’t know what’s going to happen five minutes from now. Don’t do something to solve a problem that you feel is bigger than you at the moment. Chances are that you’ll probably regret it for the rest of your life. Yes, I’m one of those annoying people that think life is sacred. I do think you should listen and take a minute before making such a drastic decision, because nothing is set in stone. Don’t let anyone make you believe that your present circumstances will never change. Life is full of surprises and this one decision, you can’t undo.

Maybe they’ve explained what’s going to happen to you and you think you can live with it, but no one prepares you for the pain and regret that you’ll feel at some point in your life. You see, I once knew…

The woman had looked lost in memory as she trailed off, like she had forgotten where she was at that moment.

What’s one more regret for me? the young girl had asked, almost inaudibly. She’d stared at the building as the old woman continued to whichever place her mind was travelling to.

Dolores had got up once again, not wanting to hear anything else. She’d breathed in and without giving the woman another look, had proceeded to cross the street.

***

Dolores returned to the present and opened her eyes to look around her, once again feeling inundated with painful memories of something that had happened not so long ago. She had never seen that woman again. She hoped nothing had happened to her; at least she had cared enough to take the time to sit by her side and try to make her change her mind.

For an instant before getting up to leave her behind on the bench, she had caught the look of concern the elderly woman had shot in her direction, and it had felt real. It had been a while since anyone had looked at her that way.

PART ONE

CHAPTER ONE

14th August, 2015

Dolo! You need to stand outside and showcase our menu, attract customers, say something inviting to them. Can’t you see that’s what everyone else is doing? Remember, they’re the competition. Part of your duties consists of not making things easy for them, and please don't tell anyone else that if it’s not on the menu, we can't make it! Take the trouble of going to the kitchen and asking your mother first. Yes, I heard your impertinent answer to that customer. Just pretend you’re speaking to any of your numerous friends, the ones you magically transform yourself into an inexhaustible fountain of charm for.

Dolores got up slowly from the seat she had been occupying inside the restaurant. The last thing she wanted was to stand outside the door and smile to attract customers. As far as she was concerned, the other restaurants could have them all.

Papa, I‘ve told you not to call me Dolo. Call me Lola. She ungraciously took the menu her father was holding out to her, pouting as she walked towards the exterior with the intention of standing just beneath the doorframe and following her established ‘law of minimum effort,’ and not doing anything that could cause her undue stress.

A push suddenly got her outside into the scorching sun. Turning around, she glared at her father.

"You will always be my Dolo. It doesn’t matter how old you get. And smile! You have a beautiful face but that scowl isn’t going to get anyone in here. Remember, we don’t want to scare people away - we want to welcome them. Look up the meanings of those words in the dictionary. Sometimes I feel that we don’t speak the same language. Have some pride in the family business! One day, this will be all yours."

Dolores murmured something unintelligible and went further outside into the heat. People were walking along the paved street, stopping to look at the menus and prices of different establishments and comparing them, going back and forth as they decided which alternative best suited their needs. If she was honest, she hoped they would pick somewhere else to eat. When they came over to theirs, it just meant more work for her - cleaning tables, putting out new tablecloths and setting them up, taking their orders and then waiting on them. Why was it so hard for her parents to understand that this was literally the last way that she wanted to spend her well-deserved summer holiday? The one she had been waiting for practically since the previous summer had ended. Now, all she was doing was reading group chat messages from her friends as they made plans to go swimming or attend some party or other while she made excuses that she was sure they saw through. Everyone knew that her parents were forcing her to work in the restaurant.

Grounded again?

Dolores looked up at the cheeky grin of Raúl, who had just opened the door to his father’s restaurant for a family of four to go through. He was