Gabriel smiled at his son. The way his entire face lit up when he looked at Rio tugged at Savannah’s heartstrings. “Yeah, he falls asleep quick.” Gabriel chuckled lightly. “Always has. It used to scare me. I always thought something was wrong with him.”
“He looks just like you,” Savanah said, smiling at the sleeping boy.
Gabriel nodded. “Yeah. Hope he doesn’t act too much like me.” He chuckled softly. “But hey, I do need to get him home. It’s past nap time, which is why he zonked out on me like this. Good luck with your house hunting, kitten. I’ll see you later.”
Savannah smiled and waved goodbye before placing her focus back into her home hunt. She had three places to look at today and prayed one of them turned out to be right. Savannah dreaded having to spend any more time at her parent’s house than necessary.
The first place was nice but too expensive. Savannah had been weary when there was no price listed, but she’d been willing to give it a shot anyway. The second place was too run down. Savannah didn’t mind things being a little worn, but the filth had been past pushing it. She was also certain she’d spotted a roach. The idea of living somewhere with roaches made Savannah’s skin crawl.
Finally, she reached the third place. It was only a block from where Jay lived, which Savannah liked. The elderly man, Mr. Polk, who showed her the tiny house was kind. Showing her the place took all of a minute. While he did, Mr. Polk told Savannah he didn’t mind pets, and all he asked his tenants were to be respectful, clean, and not destructive.
The little house held only three real rooms. There was a bathroom, a bedroom, and a large living area with space designated for a small kitchen, sectioned off with a half-wall. Mr. Polk mentioned the attic was great for storage, but he was getting too old to get up there to show her. “Do you mind if I look up there myself, Mr. Polk?”
“No, go ahead. The stairs are a little steep, though, so be careful.” Mr. Polk opened a door off the hallway and reached inside to flick a light on for Savannah. It was dusty and dirty up here, a stark contrast to the cleanliness of the rest of the home.
Savannah promised she’d be careful and made her way up the steps. She’d assumed the attic would be nothing more than insulation and boards but found it ran the full length of the house. It was half-finished, and a pile of wood lay against one far wall. Two large windows sat on either side of the house.
When Savannah made her way back down, she posed a question. “Mr. Polk, how would you feel if I finished the attic? It’s almost done, and most of the wood is already up there. It would make the house a lot roomier, and you could charge more when I moved out.”
Mr. Polk nodded. “I wouldn’t mind it, none. So long as everything done was fixing and not breaking.” The old man chuckled as they wandered outside. The yard was small, surrounded by a white picket fence. “You can do whatever you’d like with the yard,” Mr. Polk said as he walked alongside Savannah. “Plant flowers or a garden, or whatever.”
Savannah nodded. “How much were you asking again?”
“$750 a month. Doesn’t include utilities, but my son got monthly estimates. Says the electric usually runs about $50, and the water is well so it’s free.” Mr. Polk stopped at the fence now.
“I’ll take it.” Savannah handed Mr. Polk her rental application, which she’d filled out in advance, in case.
Mr. Polk nodded. “You’ve got a job?”
“Yes, sir. I work from home, but the pay is definitely enough.”
Mr. Polk nodded again. “It’s first, last, and a month’s security deposit to move in. That’s $2,250.”
Savannah said, “I could give you that today, sir, if you wanted.” She flashed her best smile at the old man and he grinned back. Savannah could afford to pay him today but was nervous the money was almost half her savings. She would still need to get the electric turned on, too.
“Well, I believe you. I’ll take this over to the realtor and tell them to put a rush on it since you’re so keen to move in.” Mr. Polk nodded. “Should be able to get in touch tomorrow, and if you’re ready, you can move in that day or the next.”
Ecstatic, Savannah thanked the kind old man and shook his hand before she left. She was thankful she’d only unpacked the bare necessities at her parent’s house after college. The small stack of things she owned would make it to the rental house in a single trip if Jay would help her with his truck. The only furniture she owned was in her bedroom – bought with money earned as a teenager, working at the local Publix. A bed, nightstand, dresser, desk, and futon. Two trips with the truck, max. That was all.
* * * * *
After another long day at work, Gabriel stopped at his mother’s house to pick up Rio. He pulled his old car into the driveway of a brightly-colored and rundown house. The yard held more dirt than grass, and several bikes were propped against the side of the porch.
A man with hair more gray than black and a thick mustache sporting an equal amount of age sat on the porch. An old black cowboy hat sat on the man’s head and work boots were on his feet. Even in this heat, his flannel was long-sleeved to protect his arms during a long day of work. “Hola, Papa,” Gabriel greeted his father.
The old man smiled from a skin-darkened, tired face etched with lines. “Hola, mijo. Como estas? Como estuvo el trabajo hoy?”
Gabriel smiled. “It was okay. Work is work.” Gabriel shrugged. “What about you? You find work today?”
His father nodded slowly. “Si. I work all day. Yesterday, too.”
“Eso es bueno, Papa, I’m glad.” Gabriel smiled wearily.
His father always had problems finding work because his English wasn’t great. Having moved from Mexico as an adult, learning English was harder for him than it was for Gabriel’s mother. She was a second-generation Mexican-American, born at the hospital here in Dade City. Gabriel’s mother spoke English and Spanish flawlessly.
Gabriel’s father only nodded. He didn’t say much, no matter what language he was speaking. Gabriel pushed open the screen door and went inside. His youngest brother sat on the couch, watching television.
“Hey,” Gabriel nodded at his brother.
Adam looked up and nodded back. “Hey man, what’s up?”
“Same thing, different day. How’s school?” Adam, the youngest of eight children, was in his senior year at Pasco High School.
“Fine. Can’t wait for it to be over, y’ know?” Gabriel nodded. He’d been anxious to get high school over with, too. Almost a decade of back-breaking work to make his bills had him realizing how stupid he was for wanting to grow up so badly.
“Where’s Mama?” Adam jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen.
Gabriel walked out of the living room and down a short hallway to the kitchen. His mother stood at the stove where two enormous metal pots cooked. Her long black hair, bearing only the smallest traces of gray, was braided down her back. She turned toward him when he entered.
“Ah, mijo, sit. I made tamales today. Eat some, and you can take some home with you.” She laughed a beautiful deep sound that dominated Gabriel’s childhood memories. “Rio loved them. Eh?”
Gabriel glanced towards the table. His two other brothers still at home – Zane, and David – sat there. Rio sat with them in a highchair, face covered in red sauce. A tamale, or what was left of it, sat on the high chair without a plate. Gabriel laughed and sat at the table as his mother placed a heaping pile of her homemade tamales in front of him. The recipe was her great-great grandmother's.