The Education of Margot Sanchez

by Lilliam Rivera

  “Can’t wait to see you,” Nick says. He hangs up while Papi and Junior continue their war. To avoid the insanity, I race back inside.

  If this plan works, Nick will see me as someone worthy of spending time with. I’ll come back to Somerset with an amazing story, an angle, of how I saved the summer. For once, working at a supermarket will be an asset. I have to figure it out. There’s so much to do.

  • • •

  When it’s time to go home, I head up to Papi’s office. He smiles at me and I take that as a good sign that maybe he isn’t still fuming from his argument with Junior.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” he says. “I have to stay late today. Junior will take you home.”

  Great. I have to ride with that anger. Junior will probably crash the car. But I can’t complain about that. There are pressing matters I must attend to right now, namely the party.

  “Papi, I’ve been working hard,” I say as sweetly as possible. “Can I go to my friend’s party next week in the Hamptons? Summer is almost over and I haven’t done much of anything.”

  “What party?” He returns to his work. “What did your mother say?”

  Thank god Mami is on board. This is easier than I thought.

  “She said it was up to you.” He’s going to say yes, I can feel it.

  “Fine.”

  Now for the real ask.

  “Thank you!” I say. “And Papi, can I also have money so I can buy something to wear?”

  He massages his forehead.

  “You kids haven’t learned anything. I am not a bank!” His face is red from anger. “No, you can’t have money for a dress. Clothes are what got you in trouble in the first place. The answer is no.”

  This was a huge mistake. I aimed too high. I need to back down before he reneges on the party. One thing at a time. First I need permission to go. Then I can figure out how I’m going to secure some beers.

  “Sorry, Papi.” I leave his office before he starts yelling at me like he yelled at Junior.

  I find my brother by his locker, shirtless. What used to be his pride and joy, his ridged stomach, is now nothing but protruding ribs. He’s lost some serious weight. Something is eating him up badly and I think I know what it is. Stress.

  “You need to drive me home,” I say.

  Junior ignores me. He puts on one of his bedazzled T-shirts and splashes cologne on his neck.

  “Did you hear me?” I ask. “You owe me. You told that lie to Papi about me and Moises. You know I’m not talking to him.”

  There’s no reaction from Junior.

  “It’s a lie and you know it.”

  “I’m protecting you,” he mumbles. “I know about Moises.”

  “I know some things too. I heard you and his brother Orlando used to be tight,” I say. “But you don’t see me spilling that bit of information to Papi, do you? Or that crazy situation with Jasmine.”

  There’s a slight flinch. He didn’t expect that from me. Maybe he’ll back off and give me some space.

  “What situation with Jasmine?” The way he asks gives me the impression that he doesn’t have a clue. What if it’s not him? I don’t want to be the person to break the news.

  “You should talk to Jasmine,” I say. “Really.”

  “I’m not talking to Jasmine. My only concern is my baby sister,” Junior says. His voice is raspy. “There are things you shouldn’t be worrying about.”

  Right. I’ve heard that sentence so many times it’s imprinted in my skin. Everyone in this family is so hush-hush about the scary things in the world. All the blindfolding isn’t helping.

  “I’m not seeing Moises,” I say. “I swear.”

  “I believe you.” Junior’s voice is still a grunt but there’s a hint of gentleness in there that I recognize. The Junior I remember is buried deep somewhere. The brother who rushed over to me when I tripped on that rock in Hawaii and scraped my knee. He picked me up and held my hand while I got stitches. It’s the same brother who keeps a picture of us taken at my First Holy Communion ceremony by his bedside table.

  “Are you ready?” he says. I nod and follow him to his car.

  • • •

  Although Junior drives, he can’t stop checking his phone. It rings and rings. His answers are very cryptic. From what I gather, he needs to meet a guy to give him something later tonight.

  “What’s going on with the missing money?” I ask. “Has it stopped?”

  “What do you know about that?” He speaks sharply. Well, that’s my answer right there. Someone steals and we have no idea who. How hard can it be to figure out?

  “Everyone at the store knows. Shouldn’t we be getting the cops involved?”

  “Naw. I got my suspicion of who it is. I just need proof,” he says. “We’ll handle it in-house. Don’t worry about it.”

  I watch the people do the rush-hour stampede. On a mission. Our family is on a mission too, to keep serious issues on lockdown. When I asked why Junior got kicked out of school, my parents refused to give me a straight answer. Instead, I found out when Papi made the mistake of leaving the official probation letter on the kitchen table. After yelling at me for snooping around, Mami made me promise to keep Junior’s situation a secret. Under no circumstances was I to gossip about this to anyone, not even Elizabeth. It was nobody’s business and it would only hurt Junior. It took so much for me not to tell Elizabeth. The family fell behind the lie that it was Junior’s decision to leave the school and not the other way around.

  Soon after that I stopped sharing a lot of things with Elizabeth. I got into Somerset and I guess I was protecting myself. I didn’t want her to know about the embarrassing situations I was getting into. It’s the running theme in my life. My family tries to shelter me from the ugliness of the world. I’ve learned to ignore the bad and put up fake fronts to fool the people around me. But it’s getting harder to pretend.

  Junior pulls into our driveway. He locks the car door to stop me from leaving and pulls out a wad of cash from his pocket. He holds out a good chunk of fifty-dollar bills.

  “What the hell, Junior? Where did you get this money?”

  “Doing some club marketing for friends. I know Papi is being stingy with you. He is so fucking cheap. I’m never going to be like that. Buy yourself something nice. Okay?” he says. The bills practically spill out of his hand. “We’ll find out who’s stealing. Don’t worry.”

  Hush money. Don’t talk about Jasmine’s situation or the stolen money. Take the cash and seal the deal. I keep being Princesa and he keeps being Junior. I shouldn’t do it but I can so use the cash. It’s more than enough for me to buy a cute dress.

  “You know I love you, right?” Junior waits anxiously for me to take it, to erase any previous wrongdoing with a simple action. “I’m serious. This shit at the supermarket is a big fucking headache but it’s not about you. Be a good sister.”

  I need this money so I take it. And with money in my hand, I continue the family denial. I step out of the car.

  Chapter 16

  Money is being drained out of our family’s store. Everyone is nervous about losing their jobs, especially after Papi laid off a couple of the cashieristas. There’s no doubt the family business is struggling this summer. What should be our busiest season draws to an end with a whimper instead of a bang. I know this. It still doesn’t stop me from going ahead with my plan. Papi and Junior are scheduled to visit the second location, like they do every Friday. Junior never wants to go but he really has no choice. I worked it all out. I have to secure the beers. I won’t call it stealing. It’s a contribution to the Margot Social Fund.

  This weekend is the only time when I can finally have a little bit of fun. I’m going to show up and Nick and everyone else from Somerset will see that the girl who came in completely clueless can hold her own.

  This is what I tell myself as I pretend to work alongside Dominic.

  “Then my girl wanted to go to Orchard Beach but I’m not trying to hit that beach,”
Dominic says. “Too many peckerheads trying to sabotage my game.”

  I twirl my necklace and ignore the mark it leaves on my neck from my intense twist. My eyes follow Papi as he gathers his stuff. They have to leave soon or my plan won’t work.

  “So, do you think my girl had a reason for getting mad at me?” Dominic asks.

  “What? No, I mean, I don’t know. Please shut up. I’m trying to think.”

  Papi walks down from his office. He makes small talk with the customers and then goes over something with Oscar. He almost changed his mind about letting me to go to the party. He said I had to keep Mami company because he was going to be tied up at work this weekend. Mami doesn’t want me around. She’s like a ghost. There but not really there. Mami’s depressed about something and won’t share the reason why with me. She spends most of her time watching television or talking on the phone with her sisters back in Puerto Rico.

  Papi wouldn’t relent until Mami got involved. The discussion soon shifted into how Junior wastes time on outside projects instead of the supermarket. They both started to argue and soon enough my trip to the Hamptons was back on. I laid the groundwork earlier in the week by alerting everyone that I would leave early today.

  No one knows about this plan. Not Elizabeth, whom I haven’t spoken to since that time at the park. Serena and Camille only care that I get the cases of beer and look cute.

  I get a text from Nick letting me know that his cousin is about a half hour away from the supermarket. Thankfully Papi and Junior are almost out the door. I wait until I’m sure they’ve driven out of the parking lot. Then I wait an extra ten minutes for good measure.

  “Dominic, I’ve got to take care of some things before I head out,” I say.

  I grab a shopping cart and make a note of where Oscar is positioned. He’s in the main office, which overlooks the row of registers. Like on any regular day, I greet the customers. They smile back. Roberto gives me the side-eye as I push the cart past the deli section. There’s nothing out of the ordinary going on over here. Just Princesa doing some shopping. My heart rate increases as I push the cart toward where the back inventory is kept. In my hand, I hold the list of preferred beer brands. This has been worked out with Nick. He wanted to buy cheap beer but I convinced him he should at least buy some imported ones. Like I knew what I was talking about. I don’t even drink but I am the girl with the supermarket connection. Nick got his cousin to drive to the Bronx to pick me up. My parents think I’m catching a ride with Serena’s parents. They didn’t even bother checking if any of what I said was true. When Nick offered to send me money, I told him not to bother. Nick said he couldn’t wait to see me. I replayed these phone conversations over and over in my head. It’s easy to forget about Moises when I do that.

  The other workers are too busy with their day to pay any attention to me. Jasmine is not around. She called in sick, which she’s been doing a lot lately. I’m guessing morning sickness. But I don’t want to think about her or her drama. I’m only thinking about the Hamptons.

  The first case is a little heavy but I place it carefully on the shopping cart. I scan the area again. The coast is still clear. I start to lift the second case.

  “Yo, what’s up? It’s me, you know, from Boogaloo Bad Boys.”

  Moises’s friend Freddie is standing in front of me with a big bag of potato chips in his hand. Freddie looks at the case of beer and then at me.

  “Where’s the party?” he says.

  “There’s no party,” I say. “You shouldn’t be back here.”

  Without me asking, he helps lift the second case and places it in the cart.

  “I was just hanging with Papo, you know, P-Nice. Anyway, it looks like a party to me, unless you have a serious drinking problem. Then what I got to say to you about that is get some help.”

  He refuses to leave my side even when I push the shopping cart to find more beer.

  “It’s just a small get-together with some friends,” I say. “Okay, I got to go. Bye.”

  “The girl in the picture is going to be there?” Freddie will not stop and he won’t leave.

  “Maybe. I don’t know.” Can’t he take a hint? I send him a full range of signals: I don’t make eye contact. Two-to-three-word sentences for answers. I practically give him my back. Nothing. He eats out of the now-opened bag of potato chips, completely clueless.

  “You should go pay for that,” I say. “There’s always a line. Also, customers are not allowed here. You need to leave. It was good seeing you.”

  “I got no plans tonight,” he says. “What’s popping with you and your friends?”

  I didn’t ask him about his plans. Freddie’s fishing for an invite. I can’t deal with him right now. Please go away.

  “Princesa.”

  Damn it. Oscar calls to me.

  “What are you doing?” he asks. I’m so busted.

  “I’m just grabbing some supplies,” I quickly say.

  Oscar places a hand on the shopping cart. This is failing and I can see how it will go down. Serena and Camille will write me off for my lack of initiative. Nick won’t even know what happened because I will continue to be a nothing. A big void.

  “You can’t take those,” Oscar says. He turns to Freddie. “Who are you?”

  Freddie raises his eyebrows and takes a step back like he’s trying to walk away from the scene of the crime. I give him a pleading look. He doesn’t owe me a thing but whether he likes it or not, he’s now mixed up in my plan.

  “I already rang them up.” I show Oscar the receipt I fudged earlier that morning. He doesn’t budge.

  “Who is this for?” Oscar grabs the shopping cart and pulls it away from me. Not even tears will sway him. This foolish mission is falling apart.

  “They’re for this nonprofit organization. It’s a fundraiser to help raise money for summer equipment for homeless kids. Right, Freddie?” The lies flow out of me like water. Freddie’s eyes are wide but he keeps his mouth shut.

  “Sorry, Princesa, but I can’t have funny business going on today,” Oscar says.

  “No, you don’t understand,” I say. “I took care of it already. Papi said it was fine.”

  “Un fundraiser?” Oscar asks suspiciously. He rubs the back of his bald head.

  Oscar has to believe me. He loves me. My phone buzzes. It must be my ride.

  “And your father knows?” he says with uncertainty.

  Another long pause. Freddie eats the potato chips. He waits to see how this will pan out. At least he’s not ratting me out or making things worse by talking.

  “Bueno. Next time you have to talk to me first. There’s a process we have to go through when it comes to alcohol. Me entiendes?”

  “Yes. Sorry, Oscar,” I say. “I thought since Papi said it was fine, I didn’t need to bother you. You seemed so busy.”

  “I’m never busy for you. We’re family.” His face is crestfallen and I can tell he’s disappointed. We both know I’m lying but he’s going to let me get away with it anyway. “Espero que sepas lo que haces.” I hope you know what you’re doing, he says. I can’t even look him in the eye but I still keep the syrupy grin plastered on my face. No matter what, I will stick to this fabricated story even at the cost of Oscar losing respect for his Princesa. If he rats me out to my father, by the time he does I’ll be by the beach and it will be too late.

  “Gracias,” I say.

  Someone calls Oscar’s name.

  “They need you out front.”

  Oscar hesitates for a few seconds more but soon he leaves to tend to another crisis.

  “Okay.” Freddie elongates the word for emphasis. “I’m confused. First off: Who the hell is Princesa?”

  “Princesa is my nickname.” I answer the text and push the cart. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to put you in a bind. The situation was kind of out of my hands.”

  “Uh-huh.” He walks with me to the parking lot. I search for a blue BMW. A guy in shorts waves at me. That must be Nick’s cousin. Th
ere’s a slight resemblance. He has the same kind of build, that same easygoing attitude.

  “You must be Margot,” he says. “I’m Chris.”

  He shakes my hand and introduces himself to Freddie, who still refuses to leave my side. Chris opens the trunk and Freddie helps lift a case.

  “Hey, Chris, what time is the party?” Freddie asks.

  I don’t acknowledge the question.

  “Not sure,” Chris says. “I’m just the courier service.”

  “So probably around eight p.m., right?” Freddie asks.

  “He’s kidding. No, you are not invited,” I say, and laugh nervously. “Thanks for helping me, though.”

  “I hooked you up, Princesa slash Margot,” Freddie says. “C’mon.”

  My palms sweat. Chris glances at his watch. I set down the last case and he closes the trunk.

  “I’ll be right back,” I say. “I just need to get my bag.”

  “Cool. We should head out soon,” Chris says. “Don’t want to get caught up in that Friday traffic.”

  I nod and walk as fast as I can. Freddie is right at my heels.

  “You can’t come,” I say to him.

  “Then I’m going to have to talk to Oscar and tell him the organizers for the fundraiser to help save homeless kids with new baseball bats will have to buy their beer elsewhere.”

  This creep is blackmailing me. Freddie is not going to the party. I don’t even think he owns a car. I can make up an address. No, I can’t. He lives near here. He says he’s always at the supermarket. And who knows? He could totally tell on me.

  “Listen, Freddie. It’s not going to be fun,” I say. “You won’t know anyone and you probably won’t like the people.”

  “Damn. You think I ain’t got no play?” Freddie says. “I go to Bronx High School of Science. I can speak on some chemical level if I have to. Physics. Advanced algebra.”

  “Sorry. It’s a private party.”

  “Moises told me you were a bit on the bougie side but I didn’t believe him. Your girl Elizabeth is down-to-earth. But I’m feeling some serious Latina resistance from you,” he says. “I’m sure your crew can hang. It’s not like they’re drinking Courvoisier. What you got there? Heinies?”