“Ma, where are we going?”
“To the farm.”
“Yes,” said Alana.
Chico sucked his teeth. “I thought we were going someplace fun.”
Bea ignored him. She turned up the music, cracked her window, and drove. There was still a tiny bit of foliage, but the trees were moving toward brown or bare. By the time she pulled into the lot, Chico had come around. The kids ran in the fresh open air, feeding the farm animals, and jumping in the bouncy house. As Bea watched the kids, happy to have distracted them, she paused when she recognized that she missed Lonnie. Not him, per se, but what he represented. She missed them as a whole unit. Not only was it the first weekend that he hadn’t come since they separated, this was the farm that they’d brought the kids to last October, shortly after moving to New Jersey.
When she sat on the bench with the kids for hot apple cider and donuts, Bea couldn’t help noticing the other families huddled together. Dads. Husbands. Boyfriends. She was alone. Bea repinned her hair into a tighter bun and watched a bird soar up into the clouds. Alone but not lonesome, she thought, pondering her nightly conversations with Dakota and remembering their plans to meet for a movie. But even with that, she couldn’t imagine painting him into this picture. Her family portrait. Was she really prepared to go through life single? Was her mother right? Had Bea behaved like a foolish little girl?
“Can we get an apple pie to take home?”
Apple pie was Lonnie’s favorite. The one they bought last year didn’t even make it out of the car before he gobbled a slice.
“Of course. We can have it with ice cream for dessert.” Bea kissed Alana’s nose.
“I want Daddy.”
“I know you do, sweetie.” Bea gave her a hug.
“Let’s go check out the corn maze. Bet you can’t make it through.”
“I can make it through.” Chico crushed his plastic cup in his hand and tossed it up in the air like a mini basketball. Then he pretended to do a spin move around Bea’s back.
“Can we go together, Chico?” Alana tugged.
He grabbed her hand.
“I’ll wait for you guys here.”
As she waited for the kids, she remembered the family meeting two weekends ago, where Bea and Lonnie explained that he’d be officially living in the city for a while. Chico wanted to know why, of course.
“Because sometimes mommies and daddies don’t get along. Just like you and Alana don’t get along.”
“Yeah, but I can’t just move out. Why don’t you just go to your room?”
“It’s not that simple, son,” Lonnie explained, while cutting his eyes at Bea like this conversation was all her fault.
“Michael’s parents are getting a divorce.” His fingers moved over his phone. “Are you two getting a divorce?”
Bea remembered looking at Lonnie and then answering. “We are taking it one day at a time.” Alana didn’t say much in the meeting. She sat curled up in her daddy’s lap. Bea didn’t know if she just wasn’t listening or if it wasn’t registering—the magnitude of everything. But when she woke up in the middle of the night and Bea ran to her, she cried for Lonnie.
* * *
Bea could set her watch by her mother’s Sunday schedule, ten o’clock mass and then a walk to the panaderia for a pastry and a coffee over the El Nacional. Irma was putting a sticky bun to her lips when Bea and the kids walked in.
“Nona!” Chico shouted, followed by Alana.
Her face lit up at the sight of her grandchildren.
“Hola, mis hijos,” and she slathered them in Spanish.
Chico surprised the hell out of Bea by responding to her mother in Spanish.
“He always speaks Spanish with me. Have to preserve our heritage.” Her mother chuckled in a way that let Bea know she was okay. Her gold crown was visible in the side of her mouth. Bea took a seat across from her mother and then reached into her purse for a ten-dollar bill.
“Chico, take Alana to the counter. Make sure you count your change.”
The place was warm and packed with families. Mostly Catholics who congregated here before or after service.
“So what brings you here? Were you at the service?”
“No.”
“Should have come. Your children need to know Jesus.”
Bea hadn’t been to church other than for Christmas and Easter in over five years.
“I know. Maybe next Sunday.”
“So why the visit?”
“I’ve missed you, Mami.”
Bea’s mother reached across the table and squeezed Bea’s hand. Then she brought it to her lips. “Eres el amor de mi vida.” You are the love of my life.
“Want to come back with us for dinner?”
“What are you cooking?”
“I put ribs in the Crock-Pot this morning.”
“You are so American with that slow cooker. Pork, I hope?”
“Yup.” Bea leaned over and kissed her mother’s cheek.
TWENTY-NINE
It’s Getting Late
On the first day of winter, Bea forced herself to decorate the inside of the house. Lonnie usually decorated outside but this year she had paid one of those 1–800 companies to come and do the work for her. It had cost her a small fortune but she wanted to create as much normalcy as possible for the kids. They’d always had a big Christmas with all of the family over for dinner but this year it was just the three of them.
“Is Daddy coming home?” Alana still said “home.” And to Bea it felt like she asked the question every single day. Even her mother, who had been over her house most nights, wasn’t going to be there for Christmas.
“Mija, I’ve been telling you for months that I’m going on a cruise with Tia Marie to the Bahamas.”
“Oh, I guess I didn’t realize it was over Christmas break. For some reason I thought you said New Year’s.”
“You’re going to miss your mami,” Irma teased. Bea didn’t find it funny. She actually found it oppressive to be so alone.
* * *
On Christmas Eve, she struggled with the urge to binge. The dark horse had been breathing down her neck since she had opened her eyes that morning. Dakota had gone to Mississippi to visit with his grandparents and she felt alone. When the doorbell rang she thought it could be that last package she was expecting from her online shopping. When she peeked out the window, she saw Santa Claus.
“Ho, ho, ho. Merry Christmas.” It was Lonnie. He had to ring the bell because Bea had finally gotten around to changing the locks.
Chico ran to the door. “Who is it?”
“Ho, ho, ho,” Lonnie said again, swinging a big red bag over his shoulder.
“Alana, come quick. It’s Santa.” Chico reached past Bea for the latch on the screen door and let Santa in. Alana stood in the foyer with her mouth wide open. “Santa! You came! I’ve been praying for you and you came. I need to sit on your lap. I need to ask you for something.” Alana grabbed Santa and pulled him into the living room and sat him down on the overstuffed chair.
“What can Santa do for you, my dear?”
“Can I have some privacy?” Alana turned to Chico and Bea.
“Jeez,” said Chico, walking into the kitchen. Bea followed him. “Mom, doesn’t she know that’s Dad?”
“Apparently not.”
“I’m glad he came. I was thinking Christmas would be a bust without Dad. You didn’t even make gumbo this year.”
It was true. Bea and Lonnie’s tradition was to make gumbo and chocolate-chip cookies from scratch on Christmas Eve. The seafood gumbo was more his project than hers so she’d decided to skip it this year. Bea cocked her head toward the living room so that she could hear Alana, who was a terrible whisperer.
“Santa, I only want one thing. I wrote you in the letter. Did you get it?”
“Um. Ho, ho, ho. Refresh my memory,” Lonnie said, making his voice deeper.
“Okay. My dad doesn’t live here anymore. Mom said they needed a time-out.
But when she gives me a time-out, it’s for five minutes or one hour. This is a very long time-out. I want my dad to come back home.”
Bea watched as Santa’s shoulders dipped.
“I don’t know what Dad did to have to live somewhere else but I need you to bring him back. Can you do that, Santa? Can you put my family back together?”
“Um…” Santa shifted Alana on his lap. “Santa will see what he can do. Santa doesn’t make those kinds of promises.” He stole a glance at Bea. “Santa usually brings toys. Are there any toys you want?”
“Nope. Just my family again. Santa, promise me you will do the best you can.”
Santa hugged her back.
“Ho, ho, ho,” he said, standing. “Merry Christmas.” He waved a white-gloved hand in the air and then left through the front door.
Bea didn’t know what to say to Alana. It was a holiday and she knew that her daughter was hurting. They were all hurting. Bea hadn’t even sent out Christmas cards this year. Every year they took a family portrait and sent cards. This year she had considered just sending a card of the kids, but with work and the kids’ schedules she never got around to it. The doorbell rang again.
“Chico, look out the window and tell me who it is.”
Bea had a bowl of popcorn on the counter. She had planned to let the kids string it around the tree. What she wanted was to dip the bowl to her face and swallow it all down. She fingered her bracelet.
“Daddy!” Chico shouted.
Alana almost fell off the kitchen stool running. “Daddy!” she shrieked.
Lonnie came through the door. Bea stood by the stove. She didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to feel. Hated to admit that was she was breathing a sigh of relief, for the kids’ sakes anyway.
Lonnie went into the living room and sat in the same seat that he’d sat in as Santa. The kids buzzed around him. Alana was telling him about Santa’s visit when Chico started in about school.
“I was talking,” she demanded.
“Chico, let her finish,” Bea called from the spot she seemed rooted to in the kitchen.
Alana wanted to show him what she was learning in hip-hop class but Chico wouldn’t give her his tablet so that she could play the music.
“See, Daddy? That’s why I need my own tablet. Dang it. I should have told Santa when he was here.” She thought a moment. “Do you think it’s too late to send him a letter?”
“It’s Christmas Eve, honey.”
“Do you have his e-mail address?”
Lonnie thought for a minute. “Maybe Santa is telepathic.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that he can receive your message with his mind. If you sit real quiet and concentrate on sending Santa the message with your mind, it might work.”
“Oh, that happened on Spy Kids. On it.” She dashed away.
Chico was next to Lonnie. Bea watched them, pretending to wipe a spot on the kitchen counter. Chico spoke softly and the two giggled. The next thing she knew they were playing Connect Four. First Lonnie played with Chico. Then he played with Alana. When Lonnie walked into the kitchen, she pictured what she looked like: sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt. Her ponytail was more like a knot at the nape of her neck. Right away she thought of Awilda’s comment. You can’t even be bothered to put on lipstick and heels.
“You look beautiful,” Lonnie said.
“That’s inappropriate.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t help it.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I know I should have called but I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”
“I could have had company.” What would Lonnie have done if he walked in and Dakota was here?
“The more the merrier.”
She turned her back to him and started soaping the few dishes in the sink.
“Let me help.”
“Really, dude?”
He took the sponge and fork from her hand. “It’s Christmas. Relax, will you?”
Bea didn’t know how to relax. She leaned against the island counter watching him. Lonnie turned his face toward her. She hated that he looked so together. Freshly shaven. Crisp button-down shirt and loose blue jeans. He had taken off his boots at the front door and she saw the oxford socks she had given him for his birthday.
“I’m going to take a shower.” Bea left the room. Why was she letting him stay? She shouldn’t let him stay. The holiday season had been hard enough to get through without him showing up playing Santa/Daddy. She could hear the kids downstairs with him, riding their happy wave. It wasn’t fair. She turned the water as hot as she could stand it. She washed her hair and soaped up her body. When she got out, she couldn’t decide what to wear. She didn’t want to look like she cared about him but she also didn’t want to look raggedy. A smock top and some leggings were a nice middle ground. She combed out the knotty hair and made a proper ponytail. She looked better than she had in days, she thought, pinching her cheeks.
“Can I help you make the cookies?” Alana met her in the kitchen.
“Sure.” She tied on her apron. “Ask Chico if he wants to help too.”
Alana yelled to Chico, who yelled back, “no.”
Bea pulled out the premade cookie dough and showed Alana how to roll it out with the pin and then cut the dough with the shapers. With oven mitts on, Bea guided Alana to place the cookies in the oven.
“Come back in ten minutes to check on them.”
“How will I know when ten minutes are up?”
“Let’s set the timer.”
“Good idea.”
When the cookies had finished cooling on the rack, they ate them in the kitchen. Bea sat at the counter and the three of them sat at the table. Lonnie and Bea talked to the kids but not to each other. The night ticked on; it was time for bed. They both tucked the kids into Chico’s bed and kissed them good night.
“Daddy, please be here in the morning when we wake up. I want you to see if Santa got my tel-e-pat message on the tablet.”
“Telepathic,” Chico corrected her.
“Yeah, that.”
Lonnie kissed her cheek. “We’ll see, baby.”
Bea followed Lonnie down the steps and whispered, “How could you say you may be here? You are not sleeping under this roof.”
“I’ll stay out of your way. I’m not expecting anything from you. Let’s just have Christmas together and deal with the rest later. For the kids’ sakes.”
“If you were worried about the kids’ sakes then you…”
“I come in peace, Bea, not war. I know this is just for the moment. Let’s just wrap presents.”
Bea dropped it. She could make it until tomorrow morning. But he couldn’t stay for Christmas dinner.
They were in the den. Bea was on a stool reaching into the back of the closet for presents.
“Can I fix you a drink?”
“No.”
“I won’t make it strong. It’s the holidays.” Lonnie left the den. He was trying to disarm her. Lonnie was good at that. Spinning a web and trapping his prey, that’s why he was great at cheating. He knew the soft landscape of women. He returned with two glasses.
“I put mostly cranberry juice in yours.”
“Lock the door.” The den was small and warm. Lonnie questioned her with his eyes.
“So that the kids don’t wander in here and see me doing Santa’s work.” She rolled her eyes.
“Wait, I’ll be right back.”
Bea sipped her drink. It was fruity and easy to get down. It only took a few minutes for her edges to soften. Lonnie returned with three big bags. He locked the door.
“You brought all of that?”
He pulled out a tablet for Alana. “I got Santa’s tel-e-pat message.” He laughed.
“Good, because I didn’t.” Bea was actually happy that Lonnie was going to mix his gifts with hers under the tree because she had not bought a lot this year. It didn’t fit into her budget and she’d refused to ask him for
anything.
“Did you bring wrapping paper?”
“Don’t you have the big box of paper you bought last year on clearance in the garage?”
Bea nodded and took another sip. Delicious.
“I’ll get it.” Lonnie went out and returned with the paper. “We need Christmas music. We can’t wrap gifts without Christmas music.” He turned on the stereo.
“Baby It’s Cold Outside” came on. It was one of Bea’s favorite Christmas songs. She sang softly as she worked. They shared the tape but had two pairs of scissors. Lonnie had never helped her wrap Christmas gifts before. This was a first. He had a few messy edges but for the most part he did a decent job.
“How’s your thigh?” she asked, surprising herself.
“Still gets a little tender but mostly it’s fine. I’ve been doing a little light lifting at the gym.”
Bea had two more drinks with Lonnie and her mood drifted from somber to gay. “This Christmas” by Donny Hathaway came on and she turned up the music a notch.
“This is my all-time favorite Christmas song.” Bea rocked.
“I know. You play it enough over the holiday season.”
“It makes me think of my father. I don’t know why but it does.”
“Wanna dance?”
“Get a life.”
“Damn, Bea.”
“Seriously, Lonnie. I can’t go back to the way things were.”
“What if we start something new?”
Bea stood with gifts in her arms. “I’ll throw you down a pillow and blanket. Can you put the rest of the gifts under the tree?”
“Sure.”
“And Lonnie, if you come upstairs again, I will shoot you. This time, it won’t be an accident.” Bea walked upstairs without looking back.
THIRTY
A Lifetime of Lifelines
Every December twenty-sixth, it was Bea and Awilda’s tradition to get up early and run out to the stores for the after-Christmas sales. Chico didn’t want to go. Lately Bea had been giving him a little leeway, leaving him for an hour or two while she ran an errand. After giving him her usual “home alone” spiel, she grabbed Alana and drove to the mall.
And Then There Was Me Page 23