I laugh as I give out hugs to Daniela and Carmen as well. “Sí, comí pizza,” I say in Spanish to get them started. “¿Y ustedes? ¿Qué cenaron?” What did you guys have for dinner?
“Nada,” Daniela announces like it’s the most scandalous thing she’s ever said.
Nothing? I check the darkening yard for my grandmother. Uneasiness comes over me when I don’t find her. “Where’s Abuela?”
Between the three of them, I gather that the fight between my mother and my sister had been going on for most of the afternoon, and that my grandmother had gone to lie down because she wasn’t feeling well. Fuck my life. I hope she’s okay. Sometimes I forget that she can’t be expected to manage us like she’s half her age.
We go back inside and I find dinner ready on the stove. I send the girls to wash their hands and then go in search of my grandmother.
“¿Abuela?” I whisper at the door to the room that she shares with Desiree. When I don’t get an answer, my stomach flips and I slowly push the slightly ajar door open. The room is dark but I can see that she’s lying on the bed under a throw blanket. Until I’m able to discern the soft rise and fall of her chest, I hold my breath. She’s just sleeping and the relief is both sharp and intense.
Once I get the girls eating, we sit around the table and talk about ‘the fight.’ When I was growing up, no one ever gave me any explanations for my mother’s stinging words or her erratic behaviour. I spent so much of my childhood confused and worried. I don’t want that for these girls, so we talk about the yelling and the swear words, which then leads to questions about their Tía Desiree’s dress and why Mamá Lilia (which is what they call my mother) didn’t like it.
I do my best to answer their questions and not to say things like ‘I don’t know’ or ‘because I said so,’ but some of the conversation really makes me squirm in my seat. What do I know about the right thing to say to little girls? Or how not to damage their self-esteem? But I’m it in this house. My grandmother is of a completely different generation. Her parenting style revolves around children being polite, not asking questions, and respecting their elders. My mother’s revolves around a firm cuff to the head. Desiree is all about female empowerment, which is good, but it’s laced with a recklessness that I’m not sure I agree with. And Mari is only fifteen and shouldn’t be expected to be a parent, though I suspect she’s the most level-headed of us all.
Later on while I’m loading the dishwasher, I open a water bottle to rinse it out and get a good whiff of what can only be vodka. Great. Though I can’t say I’m surprised my mother is off the wagon again, I am disappointed. This latest dry spell only lasted a few months.
By the time the girls are in bed and I’m stretched out on my foam mattress on the living room floor, you’d think my head would be full of possible solutions to my extensive list of problems, but it’s not. After everything, the only thing holding my attention is a tall, beautiful woman who thinks I want to date her.
The rest of the week goes smoothly for once. Not only did Desiree make it back on time, but she arrived unscathed, sober, and happy. My grandmother got a good night’s rest and was fine the next day. My mother went to work as usual. And best of all, on Thursday evening, I took all three of the girls to get their eyes checked.
Turns out that Daniela wasn’t the only one who needed glasses, Carmen needed them as well. That my youngest sister, who’s always so quiet, didn’t mention that she was having problems with her vision is troubling.
Anyway, I was so relieved to cross optometrist off the list that I only had a minor heart attack over the cost of prescription glasses.
Even Jorgie starting work on Thursday went better than expected. His attitude was good, and I hope like hell that the novelty of the situation doesn’t lose its lustre for him any time soon.
Unfortunately, experience tells me that this run of luck can’t last – because let’s face it, as soon as life gets easy, it’s about to go to shit or it already has and you just don’t know it yet. So, it’s with a bit of apprehension that I buzz Ellie’s apartment on Friday evening. I’ve been ignoring the odd sense of anticipation that’s been building over the last few days. If I’m honest though, I like it. The feeling is new, it’s different. It’s other. That she has no connection to anything else in my life is part of the appeal, I’m sure. She’s basically an island in the middle of the chaos.
She greets me with that beautiful, infectious smile that’s been lurking in my imagination. “You came,” she says, sounding surprised as she stands back to let me in.
“Of course I came. I said I would.” She takes note of my tool box and the new lock that’s sitting on top of it while I get my boots off.
“In my experience, a lot of people say a lot of things. Doesn’t mean they follow through.”
Her light brown hair is loose today, and I realize I’ve never seen it out of a pony tail. She’s got it pulled over one shoulder where it sits in a curly brown mass. As I straighten, I’m again struck by how tall she is. She has to be at least 5’10”. It’s a bit unnerving when our eyes meet with only a foot of space between us in the cramped entrance hall.
“That’s me,” I say with a hint sarcasm. “The king of follow-through.”
I catch a flash of another smile as she leads me into the living space. “How fortunate for me, my patio door, and my stomach,” she says, her tone light. I’m satisfied to see that she’s not dressed in anything . . . date-like, just a sweater . . . and jeans that are once again molded to that phenomenal ass. Right, moving on. I take another look at her sliding glass door.
When I’m not making a racket with the drill, we make small talk. It’s fine. She’s nice enough and the conversation isn’t awkward. I find out that for the next few months she’ll have Fridays and Mondays as her days off from work. My gaze flicks to where she’s perched on the armrest of her sofa, watching me work. “How’d that crappy turn of events come about?”
She gives a little shrug. “My friend Vanessa is the manager and originally, she hired me as a favor, so it’s nice to be able to pay her back. If I work the weekends, she doesn’t have to. Plus, I make a bit more per hour when I’m the designated person in charge.”
I nod. “At least you turned out to be a good employee.” I tell her about Jorgie and my misgivings about getting him a job.
With all the talking, it’s taken me longer to finish than I expected. Strangely, I’m not put out. I actually don’t mind her easy-going personality.
“Okay, come check this out,” I tell her, showing her the new locking mechanism. As she leans in slightly, the citrusy scent of her hair fills my nose and I immediately shuffle back. The last thing I need is to be sniffing this woman.
Oblivious to my discomfort, she grins over her shoulder, saying, “So, does this mean I can get rid of the unsightly stick?”
I clear my throat. “Definitely not. The unsightly stick stays. It’s a good visual cue to potential home invaders that the next door over will make an easier target.” Her eyes widen at my honest assessment, but I figure she deserves the truth.