By the time he left the office to pick up Raúl from school, he was sullen and out of sorts. But Raúl was full of chatter and could hardly wait for his father to pull into the school driveway to pick him up.
“Hi, Dad!” Raúl chirped.
Larry smiled. His kid’s spirit was infectious. “Hi, son. Did you have a good day at school?”
“Yeah! And the countdown begins!”
“Countdown to what?”
“Summer!” Raúl said. “There’s only ten days of school left.”
Larry had forgotten. He had put all his attention on planning the anniversary party and the honeymoon trip to Paris, and he’d somehow lost track of this very important detail. The reality of summer vacation and the need to keep three boys active—Raúl and his nephews—began to sink in as he watched a woman in a minivan ahead of him. She was more intent on speaking on her cell phone than in maneuvering through the after-school traffic, and Larry was getting annoyed.
“So, Dad, is Celeste going to come to my school?”
“What do you mean?” Larry said, thinking that if he hugged the woman’s bumper, maybe she would get the message and move.
“Well, she has to go to school, doesn’t she? But school’s almost out, so what’s the point?”
“Right,” Larry said. “What’s the point? I’m sure she goes to school in El Paso.”
“But… isn’t she going to stay with us?” Raúl asked. He thought Celeste moving in with them was a done deal. In fact, he was planning on it. “Isn’t she, Dad?”
Larry was losing his patience with the woman in the minivan. He tapped his horn to get her attention.
“Isn’t she, Dad?”
The woman creeped farther in front of Larry, then stopped, still chattering on her phone, talked demonstratively with her free hand, completely oblivious to Larry.
“Come on! What the…” He tapped his horn a few more times.
“Dad!”
“What!” Larry snarled. The high spirits Raúl had were sucked out of him, and he slumped in the passenger seat, realizing his dad was in a piss-poor, sour mood. Larry knew he was the cause of this, but he was having trouble controlling his temper. The woman finally looked in her rearview mirror and waved at Larry apologetically before she pulled her vehicle out of his way. Larry surged forward and screeched to a stop next to the woman and rolled down the passenger-side window next to Raúl so he could talk to her.
“I’m sorry! I got distracted,” the woman explained, pulling the phone away from her face.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Larry demanded.
Raúl’s head sunk into his torso.
“You think you own the road here? You think no one else is as important as you and your precious phone call? You think I don’t have better things to do than to wait for you to take care of your very important business?”
The woman stared at Larry a moment, but instead of answering back, her gaze turned vacant as her window glided up, activated by the push of an unseen button. She went back to her phone conversation and turned to face the opposite direction. Larry almost shot through the roof.
“Hey! Hey! I’m talking to you! I’m talking to you, damn it!” Larry leaned on his horn, his arm stiff and his face turning red. Everyone in front of the school stopped what they were doing to look at Larry with exasperated expressions. Adults on the sidewalk near the drive gathered their children to their sides and watched him carefully. When an opening in the bumper-to-bumper traffic finally yawned open, Larry lurched into it and sped away, cursing under his breath.
Raúl desperately wished he could slide off his seat and hide beneath the floor mat.
By the time they got home, Larry had calmed down, but his mood was still sour. Raúl went to his room, while Larry went straight to his office. He thought he might get some work done, until he saw Beatriz and Celeste sitting together at the desk.
“Oh!” Beatriz said. “I didn’t realize the time.”
“Is Raúl home now?” Celeste asked her aunt. “Can I go say hi?”
“Sure, sweetheart. He’s probably in the kitchen.”
“No, he went upstairs,” Larry reported, looking through some file folders on the corner of the desk that he realized would have been useful for his meeting earlier in the day.
“I’m sure he’ll be back down for a snack. Why don’t you go find him?” Beatriz said.
Celeste could tell right away that Larry was not happy and quickly moved past him to avoid getting splashed by his foul mood.
“What’s the matter?” Beatriz asked when she was sure Celeste was out of earshot. Larry took in the large calendar Beatriz and Celeste had been working on and the colored markers, in lavender, hot pink, red, and turquoise splayed across the desk. He could see they were using them to fill in the calendar with color-coded notes that had meaning only to them.
“For the quinceañera,” Beatriz offered before Larry could ask. “If you need to use the computer, I’ll get out of your way.” She began collecting the materials that she and Celeste had spread on the desk.
“We need to talk,” Larry said. He paced in front of the sofa where Celeste slept. Her bedding was neatly folded and sat on the end of the couch. The pile was small and unobtrusive, and yet it annoyed him. “I need my office back!” he finally blurted. The room had long gone from being his office to an all-activity room, but everyone knew he liked to call it his office. Beatriz didn’t want to argue with him.
“Okay, I already said I’d get out of your way,” she repeated, the quinceañera planning supplies in her arms. As she briskly made her way to the door, Larry’s attitude softened. He didn’t want to argue, either.
“No, wait, I mean—I thought she was going to sleep upstairs.”
“She doesn’t want to,” Beatriz said, closing the office door quietly. “For some reason, she feels better sleeping down here.”
“Well, then where am I going to sleep?”
“What do you mean?” Beatriz asked.
“Well, because of the way things are, I thought—”
“I didn’t kick you out of our room. If you sleep down here, they’re going to figure out something is wrong and start to worry.”
This pleased Larry. He didn’t imagine there would be any lovemaking anytime soon, but sleeping with his wife was more than he hoped for.
“Is there anything else?” Beatriz asked.
“Well, I was wondering… can we—are we still going on our trip?”
Beatriz hadn’t given it any thought. She didn’t want to stir up any more tension between them but realized that since the trip was scheduled soon, it was a subject that had to be discussed.
“Well,” she began carefully, “I think it would be best if we postponed it.”
Larry fell onto the couch.
“Why would we do that?” he asked, although he already knew the response.
“Because Celeste just got here, and I think leaving might be disconcerting for her. She really needs some stability and routine,” Beatriz said. The whole idea of going on a romantic trip with Larry seemed as bizarre as having a girls’ night out with her sister-in-law Norma.
“So, you don’t want to go?” Larry said. He tried not to sound as wounded as he felt. Beatriz knew to choose her words carefully.
“I don’t think the timing is right, Larry. Do you?”
Larry bit his tongue. “I need the computer,” he said after a moment.
“You’re mad.”
“It doesn’t matter what I am, does it?”
“Larry—”
“Look. I’m beat. I’m behind at work, and I forgot about school being out. I need to get the boys lined up with things to do over the summer to keep them out of trouble.”
“Yeah, well,” Beatriz began, trying to be diplomatic, “I was looking into getting Celeste signed up with Camp Fire Girls or something like that. And I found some karate classes that the boys had asked about last year,” she offered. “I wrote the information down on the pa
d over there. And there’s some swim classes, and baseball camp again, and Raúl is already signed up for his comic book thing. And we really should talk about Carlos—”
But Larry had reached his limit. He covered his face with his hands.
“I can’t—I can’t think about that right now,” he said. He was working hard to make sense of things.
“Okay, well,” Beatriz said, turning to leave the room. “I’m going to heat something up from yesterday and make a salad. I’ll call you when it’s ready.” She hovered in the doorway a moment, and Larry looked at her expectantly.
“A lot has happened in a short amount of time. I know this is hard for you. This is hard for me, too. It’s so weird how joy and horror can share the same space,” she said, thinking of how elated she was that Celeste had finally accepted her, while learning of the circumstances that brought her niece to her.
“Yeah,” Larry muttered. He wanted to say more, but his mind was muddled with guilt and want. “I’m exhausted. You must be, too.”
“We just need some time. Can you—can we—give that to each other?”
How much time? Larry wanted to ask. But even he, even-keeled, by-the-book Larry Milligan, knew there was no real answer to that question.
When Carlos came home, he saw the strange mood his mother and father were in and decided that approaching his mother was the safest.
“So, did you and Dad talk about me?”
“No. Not yet, Carlos. Now’s not a good time. Don’t worry. We’ll get to it. Sit down. It’s time to eat.”
The only person who spoke at dinner was Raúl, who made it his responsibility to fill Celeste in on everything that happened at school, the teachers he liked, the classes he was doing well in, the best day to eat lunch at school, and the fastest way to make it out of the building should there be an alien invasion or an attack by zombies. Celeste listened intently, amused by her cousin and his quirkiness. Beatriz picked at her food and tried to pay attention to her son, as did Larry, but as the meal wore on, he became more withdrawn. He finally set his elbows on the table and ran his hands through his hair.
“I’m beat. I didn’t sleep much last night. I’ve got to lie down.”
“Sure. I can hold down the fort. Go ahead,” Beatriz said.
Carlos was perplexed. He looked to his mother, but when she closed her eyes and sat back in her chair, he knew, once again, that this was not the time.
By the time Beatriz made it up to their bedroom, it was nearly ten o’clock. Larry was sound asleep in the armchair, a file folder he brought home from work open on his lap, the contents fallen to the floor when he finally surrendered to sleep.
“Larry… Larry…” Beatriz was gently nudging him. When he opened his eyes, he saw her standing over him, a pillow and a sheet under her arm.
“Why don’t you go to bed?” she said. He thought she’d brought the bed things for him so he could sleep in the chair and reached for them.
“Thanks.”
“No, no. This is for me. Go sleep in the bed.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going downstairs to be with Celeste.”
This brought Larry to full consciousness. “What? Why?”
“I promised her I would stay with her until she fell asleep,” she said. After a moment she added, “I’ll be back up.”
Larry hauled himself sluggishly to their bed and sat on it, out of sorts and unsure of what time it was. He felt like he did when their boys were babies—sleep deprived and surly, at the beck and call of a baby who demanded all their attention. But hadn’t they already been through all of that? Wasn’t it time to enter the next phase of their life as a mature married couple? Was that so much to ask?
Beatriz made her way to the door and turned back to Larry.
“Thanks for understanding,” she said. “I really appreciate how understanding you’re being.” She smiled slightly at her husband, believing that his exhaustion and his silence were signs that he was coming to terms with Celeste. “It will get better,” she added. “I promise.”
She closed the bedroom door, and as soon as it clicked shut Larry fell back onto the bed and let out a long groan. He was glad his wife had no idea about all the thoughts that had passed through his mind.
Celeste and Raúl were watching the last of an animated TV show Raúl liked. They were dressed for bed, sitting on the floor near each other with their knees drawn to their chests, chuckling like amused chipmunks. Beatriz made up Celeste’s bed on the couch, and as soon as the show ended Beatriz launched into mommy mode.
“Ok, mi’jitos. That’s it. It’s time to hit the hay.”
“Ah!” Raúl whined. “There’s another show on after this. Are you guys going to watch it without me?”
“No, everyone is going to bed,” Beatriz assured Raúl.
“Why? She doesn’t have school tomorrow.”
“No, but you do. In the meantime, we are all keeping our schedule, just like always.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Ya, ya, ya,” Beatriz said. “Go brush your teeth, and I’ll come up later.”
“There’s a mad scientist movie marathon on the Syfy Channel,” Raúl said to his cousin.
“Really?” Celeste said. He was thrilled that this interested her, too.
“This is what we’re going to do,” Beatriz said. She picked up the remote control and used it to find the channel, and with a few quick clicks, her work was done.
“There. It will all be recorded and you two can watch it over the weekend. How’s that?”
“Well, taught you, mother have I,” Raúl said, the tips of his fingers pressed together lightly as he nodded sagely. Celeste laughed. The sound of her laughter was like tinkling pennies, and it made Raúl laugh, too. He decided he was going to make it his business to make her laugh as much as he could, whenever he could.
“Okay, Yoda. Off to bed.” Beatriz kissed her son on the cheek, and he kissed her back. Raúl faced Celeste, unsure of what to do. She helped him out by raising her palm toward him and making a V shape between her ring finger and her tallest finger. Raúl chuckled in recognition.
“Ah, yes. ‘Live long and prosper,’ my cousin,” he said. “Moi yami.”
“Buenas noches, primo,” Celeste said.
Beatriz helped Celeste get comfortable and turned off all the lights in the office except for a small lamp near the window. As she made her way around the room, she began to hum to herself.
“My mom knows that song, too,” Celeste said. “I mean—she knew it.”
Beatriz sat on the opposite end of the couch and wrapped her arms around her pillow.
“Are you going to stay here all night?” Celeste asked.
“I’ll stay here as long as you like.”
“I’m not a baby, but—”
“But what?” Beatriz asked.
“Can I… can you come over here?”
Beatriz got up and moved to the other end of the couch where Celeste was lying. The girl sat up and Beatriz settled in, as Celeste eased herself onto Beatriz’s lap. Beatriz began to sing the song lightly, a love song in Spanish about two doves. When Beatriz forgot the words, Celeste filled them in until they were singing together, their voices mingling like chimes. After a moment, Beatriz realized Celeste was singing to stay awake.
“Nothing is going to hurt you.” She began to stroke Celeste’s hair. “I’ll be right here.”
Celeste fell silent and Beatriz thought she’d fallen asleep. She adjusted herself slightly, wishing she’d brought the pillow she’d left on the far end of the couch before she moved to Celeste’s side.
“My dream is always the same,” Celeste began. “I’m in the house, and these men come in. I run and hide upstairs—only in real life, we never had an upstairs.”
Beatriz was about to interrupt Celeste but stopped herself, making herself listen with all her heart and all her senses. Part of her didn’t want to hear, but the other part knew she needed to be a witness for Celeste. S
he let the girl continue.
“The men say they want to hurt me and yell at me to come out. They know they’re going to find me, but I make myself small, the way ’Amá used to make me when I was little.” She trembled, and Beatriz stroked her arm. “But I make myself so small. I feel myself shrink. Then the men come into the room where I am, but they don’t see me and I know I’m safe. They leave, but I stay small for a long, long time until I’m sure they’re gone. And just when I think it’s safe, I hear the sounds. They’re hurting her. I try to go back downstairs, but the stairs aren’t where they were before. I can’t save her. She screams and screams and screams until they finish with her. And then they come for me. That’s usually when I wake up,” Celeste said.
Beatriz worked hard to keep her voice steady and calm.
“Is that how it happened? Did you see how your mother was…” Beatriz hated to say the word.
“Killed?” Celeste said plainly. “No. They took her away from the house and did it in the desert like all the others. I don’t know why they left me behind. I was at home asleep. I didn’t even know she was gone until the next day, when it was too late.”
Sisters, Strangers, and Starting Over Page 19