I look back at Mom as her eyes widen. She finally shows a little sign of the panic I feel. She reaches for my hand. Clasps it tightly.
“John,” she says, her voice calm, low, soothing, “let it go. We’re all having a good time. Why ruin it?”
John glares at me for a second, and I scoot away from him.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” I practically shout as I leap to my feet. Once the bathroom door shuts behind me, I call Nina and get voicemail. My heart beats faster than I feel like it ever has. Panic, I’m panicking. I have to calm down, I have to think. I look around. The trash is overflowing with tissues and plastic cigarette wrappers. There’s a brown rim inside the toilet bowel.
I push the overflowing ashtray aside, hold the sink, and breathe. I cough as I inhale the stench of old cigarettes. Drop to my knees in front of the toilet, heave like I’m going to puke but don’t.
Close the lid.
Sit.
I have to get out of here. But I can’t ask Mom to take me home; she’s drunk.
I text Nina.
I need help. I can’t explain everything that’s happened right now, but I’m at my mom’s. She’s drunk, her boyfriend’s drunk, and he made a move on me when she was in the bathroom. I can’t be here anymore. Please, can you borrow your mom’s car and come get me?
I text her the address and choke on a sob when my phone dies immediately after. I hadn’t even realized the battery was low. I close my eyes and try to remain calm. I stay in the bathroom for what feels like a long time, but better in here than out there with John. Eventually, there’s a rap on the door.
“You okay in there, baby?”
It’s Mom. I hear John yell from the living room. “She fell in the toilet or something?” He barks laughing.
I open the door. “I’m fine.” My voice shakes.
A piece of my hair falls in front of my face, and Mom reaches for it. I recoil.
“I’m sorry about that, mija.” She sighs. “He’s just a little tipsy. I promise you he’s harmless.”
I seriously doubt that. I watch my mom, feeling like I’m seeing her for the first time. Seeing her like Grandma does. Bad men. Trouble. Lies. I feel myself shaking, feel the tears that I try to blink away.
Mom gasps. “Baby! Don’t cry.” She pulls me into a hug as a sob rises in my throat. “Everything’s okay.”
Tears fall from my eyes as Mom holds me close. Everything is not okay.
Grandma would never bring me around someone like John. She’d be livid if she knew.
My gut sinks as I accept the feeling I’ve been pushing away since Mom blew me off the first time we agreed to meet.
Grandma knew something about Mom I didn’t at the time. She was right to keep her away, right about her. Not about Nina, not about everything else, but about her.
I believed Mom, and I shouldn’t have. I see Mom for the addict she really is. But what’s worse is how am I any better? I’ve lied to Grandma about so much. I’ve done coke for God’s sake. I could be in Mom’s exact shoes in a couple of years, addicted to something even more dangerous than alcohol.
I pull myself away from her.
“Why are you with him, Mom?” I whisper so John won’t hear from the living room. “What you said about Grandma and Grandpa, was it all a lie?”
Mom’s face falls. “Baby, it’s not like this all the time. You don’t understand. You don’t know him like I do.”
There’s a knock at the front door, and I sprint toward it. “I called a friend to pick me up,” I yell behind me as I cross the living room and swing the door open before John can react.
Then I gasp because it’s not Nina I see.
Grandma’s hard eyes land on me, her hand clutching her cell phone at her side. Fear crosses her features as she takes in my tear-soaked face. Then Grandma’s eyes dart to Mom. Grandma’s free hand shoots out to my arm, grabbing it tightly. She steps forward, shielding me.
“Mamá!” Mom says, her voice high-pitched and small, like a child’s.
I hear loud footsteps behind me.
“Who the hell are you? What are you doing here?” John glowers at Grandma, as my mom rushes forward. She puts a hand on John, as if she’s steadying him.
“Mamá,” she pleads, “let me explain.”
Grandma looks at Mom in disgust. “I’m not interested in your excuses, Marisol.”
“What an entrance, Carmen.” John laughs. “Nice to meet you too.”
Mom looks at me, her chin twitching like mine and Grandma’s do when we’re trying not to cry. “You called my mother, Ri? You told her about us?”
I start to shake my head no when Grandma answers. “She didn’t need to. Her friend told me where Ri was.”
Nina.
Grandma grips her phone tight and glares at John. “I told her I’d get my granddaughter myself, but her friends are waiting for us nearby and if we don’t come”—Grandma pauses to look at the phone—“within twenty minutes, they will call the police. I will tell the police all about this man putting his hands on my granddaughter!”
“I didn’t touch her!”
“Do you think I can’t smell the alcohol in this house? What was the plan, to get my underaged granddaughter drunk and take advantage of her? I know exactly what kind of men Marisol surrounds herself with and the types of records they have. And I’d bet anything that one call to the police about a forty-year-old man and a mother with terminated parental rights kidnapping a minor would prove me right. How do you think the police will react to such a serious allegation toward people with a prior record?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” John shouts, but the way his eyes widen with fear makes me wonder how close to the truth my grandma is.
“We are leaving now, and you will stay away from my granddaughter or I will make sure the police know all about you both.”
Grandma pulls me farther behind her, so I have a foot outside the door.
Mom takes a step forward and puts her hands up toward Grandma. “We don’t want any trouble. There’s no reason to call the police on John. His name shouldn’t be mixed up in all of this.”
John’s eyes narrow at my mom as she pleads.
“Go ’head, call the cops, Carmen,” John says. “They won’t find a damn thing by the time they get here.”
“It shouldn’t be like this,” Mom’s eyes are red and watery and they are shooting daggers at Grandma. “Talk to me, Mamá! All this time and you won’t say a kind word to me now? You haven’t seen me in years. The daughter you gave birth to, raised, but now have forgotten about.”
Grandma nudges me another step back with her hip. “Go wait in the car, Ri. I’ll be right there.”
I hold my footing. No way I’m leaving Grandma with John. Grandma glances at me and seems to understand. She touches her phone screen, so the blackness turns to light again. She pushes the phone into my hand, positioning my finger over the call button. “Take this.”
Then Grandma looks at Mom, her face a mixture of sadness and another emotion I can’t place.
“How could I forget you, Marisol, when I raised the daughter you left behind?” she asks. “When I see her beautiful face every day and know that I would move heaven and earth to keep her safe, but you wouldn’t?”
Mom’s face contorts, her tears starting to spill. She tugs out of John’s grip. “You. Don’t. Know. Anything,” she spits.
Grandma blows out a breath and shakes her head.
“You don’t know what I would and wouldn’t do for my daughter. My daughter, Mamá!” Mom’s voice is shaking, and her hands are too. “She’s mine!”
I step back, but Grandma holds her footing.
“You had a choice! Stop the drinking, stop it with the bad men, and be in your daughter’s life,” Grandma shouts at Mom. “I should have told Ri who you were from the beginning, but now she has seen it for herself.” She squeezes my hand. “Now she sees who you really choose to be.”
John stomps toward us, and
I don’t know if he’s going to push us out the door or grab Grandma. He raises his hand and I flinch. Mom grabs him by his shirt and yanks him back as he shouts, “Get out of here already!”
We should go. We have to. But watching Mom pull John away from us, I feel my heart breaking. We can’t leave her. Mom needs to come too. I love her. I need her.
“Mom, please,” I say, my voice weak and pleading. “You shouldn’t be living like this.”
“You have some nerve coming in here running your mouth about my business,” John snarls. “I’m done with this shit. Get the hell out!”
But then Mom steps into the opening, and he freezes. Her eyes are wide. She’s torn.
“Come with us,” I say. Grandma’s hand stiffens in mine, but she stays quiet.
Mom looks at John and then back to me. “Just go, baby. I’ll call you later.”
For a second, I thought we had her. I thought I had her. She’s supposed to be mine. My mom.
“You don’t need him.” I can’t help but shout. “Just come with me.”
John smirks and opens the door as wide as it will go. “Go ahead, Marisol.” He takes a step back, and then another, until he plops down on the couch, feet outstretched in front of him. “You wanna leave too? Go right ahead.”
He’s not even worried.
I want to throw something at him. Make him hurt, like I do. I hate him.
Mom shakes her head quickly. “You need to go now, Ri. I’ll talk to you later, I promise.”
Her face blurs before me. “Mom,” I plead. “Please. I’m asking you, begging you. Just come with us, and we can figure it all out.” I grasp Grandma’s hand tighter. “Together.”
Mom stands up straighter and lifts her chin as if she’s looking down on me. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Goodbye, Marisol.” Grandma tugs on my hand.
But I don’t move.
“I’m your family, not him!” My chest feels hot and tight. John’s smiling on the couch and Mom’s looking at me like she doesn’t know me. I want to scream. So, I do. “He’s just some creep! He doesn’t even care about you. He’s—”
“That’s enough!” Mom roars. She lunges forward and pushes me completely outside. I tumble into Grandma’s arms and the door slams in our faces. The lock clicks on the other side.
I tear out of Grandma’s grip, lunging at the door. “Mom! MOM!” Tears are pouring now, and my fists are beating on the wooden door. “Please! Come with me! Don’t choose him! Mom!”
Then soft hands are on my back and gently pulling me away.
“It’s okay, Ri,” Grandma whispers into my hair. “Come on, let’s go.” She puts her arms around my shoulders and pulls me to the car, my body rocking with sobs.
Grandma clicks the doors locked and drives us through the parking lot. In the rearview mirror, I spot Brittany in her Mercedes, Nina in the front seat.
I turn around so I can see them. “What the . . .”
Grandma’s eyes flit to the center mirror. “Brittany called me. She and Nina were planning to come get you, but I said no. It wasn’t safe.” Grandma gives me a knowing yet sad smile. “Your friends didn’t listen to me when I told them to stay home and wait for my call.”
I wipe the tears from my face and give a pathetic wave. Nina waves back as Brittany clutches the wheel. They follow us onto the street toward the freeway.
I plug my phone into the car charger. After a few moments, I text Nina Thank you.
Instantly, I see the bubbles showing a reply.
Are you ok? What happened?
I look back at Nina and Brittany’s worried faces in the car behind us.
I’m fine. I’ll explain everything later.
Nina’s next text comes almost immediately.
Please don’t be mad. I didn’t have my mom’s car today and I needed Brittany to take me. And we called your grandma because we thought it could be dangerous. We weren’t sure if we should call the police, so we called her instead.
I tell Nina I’m not mad, and then I set my phone down. That’s all I say, all I can manage right now.
I look at Grandma, her stoic face. Lips pursed into a thin line, eyes set on the road. My voice pleads. “I never meant—” I stop myself, realizing my excuses are hollow. Just like Mom’s.
Grandma doesn’t say anything. Her silence scares me.
I clutch my hands tight on either side of the front seat as I start to feel stabbing pains in my stomach. I choke on my tears. Mom.
Grandma puts a hand on my leg and squeezes it. “I’m so, so sorry, baby.” Her voice is quiet, low. Sad.
I look outside the window at the ocean and night sky, the moon reflecting only a touch of light at the otherwise dark waves flitting in the wind. Driving home now, it feels like giving up. I can’t do that.
Maybe Grandpa and Grandma never gave Mom a real second chance. Maybe they didn’t spell it out. Maybe Mom didn’t really get what was at stake. I stab the words into my phone. You have to choose. John and the drinking, or me.
I hold my finger over the send button for a moment before I swallow and push down.
I watch the screen for what feels like a long time, until I start to feel queasy with motion sickness. Mom doesn’t respond. I call her and it rings and rings.
Grandma looks from the road to me and my phone but says nothing. I hang up, look at my texts to Mom again. Text me back, I beg silently. Please, Mom.
Please.
Chapter
Eighteen
I call my mom again as Grandma pulls off at our exit. It goes straight to voicemail. Either her phone died, or she turned it off. I hold my arms around myself.
Once we’re outside our house, I realize how weak I feel. Everything hurts. My throbbing head. My stuffy nose. My sore throat. But mostly it’s my heart that’s broken. Torn out and cast aside by Mom.
Grandma walks ahead of me, opens the front door, and hangs her keys and purse up. We sit together at the dining room table.
Grandma stares at me, looking as broken as I feel. She closes her eyes and puts her head in her hands.
“I’m so sorry,” I whimper.
Grandma holds her head in one hand but reaches for me with the other.
Finally, she lifts her head and looks at me. “Tell me everything.”
Inside I feel like shattered glass, stabbed, broken, bleeding. But it’s nothing compared to how I feel seeing the way Grandma looks at me. Her disappointment.
I close my eyes. I keep them shut, even as I start talking. “I found Mom. I’ve been seeing her for more than a month.” I open my eyes as Grandma inhales deeply, her cross swinging over her chest as she sits up.
“I found her letter, the one you hid from me under your bed.”
My hand shakes, but Grandma doesn’t let it go. I sniff, try to breathe in through my stuffy nose.
“I got Mom’s address from that letter. We started seeing each other, and she told me you and Grandpa kept her away from me.” And I hated you for it.
I stare at Grandma’s blouse, splotchy from me crying on her.
I tell Grandma about everything. Studying Spanish at the library with Mom, our ice cream date, Jack in the Box, what happened tonight with John. All of it bursts out of me, like a tornado, and it’s as though I can see the words whirling around Grandma, stabbing her like loose debris as they hit. When I’m out of words and out of breath from rushing it all out, Grandma rubs her eyes and slowly stands. She looks at the wall behind me, rather than at my face. “Why don’t you go to bed? We can talk more tomorrow.”
My throat constricts. I wish Grandma would yell at me, scream and rage about how I’ve let her down. I’d rather hear anything instead of this devasted quiet that’s come over her. I watch Grandma turn away from me and my heart breaks for the second time tonight.
The next day, I don’t go to school. Grandma said I should stay home and rest. I clutch my phone as I lie in bed, hoping to feel it vibrate with a text from Mom.
Edgar messages me in
between classes to ask if I’m okay. He says Nina told him I was going through a hard time and needed the day to process. I’m not mad at her for telling him that—I’m glad, actually. Happy he cares. I reply that some family stuff went down and I’m struggling. He says he’s here for me anytime if I ever need to talk.
I believe him.
But I’m not ready to do anything more than stare at my phone and wait for Mom to call back.
At a few minutes past noon, there’s a knock outside. When I open the front door to see Brittany and Nina, my shoulders sag. A small, desperate part of me was hoping it was Mom.
Brittany’s first to swoop in with a hug, and I hesitate, after everything that’s happened between us. She lets go and Nina hugs me so quickly after that I don’t have enough time to think about it much.
I drag a kitchen chair to sit across from the two of them on my couch.
“Have you heard from your mom?” Brittany asks softly.
I shake my head no, stare at my socked feet.
“It’s a good thing you called Ri’s badass grandma,” Nina says to Brittany, in what I think is an attempt at lightening the mood. “I mean, seriously, if that pinche pendejo John woulda tried anything, I’d put my money on Carmen. She’s one scary old lady, skinny or not. I bet she could take him.”
It’s really something that Nina is complimenting my grandma, and I’m grateful. That reminds me, I told Grandma I’d check in with her while she was at work. I send her a quick text to tell her I’m out of bed and that Brittany and Nina are here during their lunch break.
“Thank you for coming yesterday, for calling my grandma. For everything.” My chin twitches and I will myself not to cry. That’s all I do lately, it feels like.
Nina gives me a sad smile. “I just wish we could have . . .” She trails off. “I wish things were different.”
I look at Brittany and Nina, sitting side by side here in my house. Something I thought I’d never see. Especially after the last time Brittany and I saw each other at the club. After I screamed at her.
Even though I know she deserved everything I said, I can’t bring myself to hate her. Not after what we’ve been through together. Not when I still hope things could be different than they’ve been.
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