Better With You Here (9781609417819)

by Zepeda, Gwendolyn

  Yes, we do. I hate Mike’s guts, but I do want to believe that he cares about the kids. I glance in his direction. He’s glancing at me. Sheepish.

  For a while after that, neither of us yells.

  Alex

  Angelica must’ve been wrong, because we have to go to Miss Buena’s all the time now. I asked Mom why, and she said because she has a lot of appointments after work and they’re going to last until January’s over. I said, “Doctors’ appointments?” and she said, “No. It’s grown-up stuff, baby. Boring stuff.”

  So we’re back at Miss Buena’s again today, but this time Angelica and them aren’t here. It’s only me, Lucia, and Tiffany. I hate when it’s like this.

  Miss Buena’s on the phone again, but it’s no fun spying on her by myself. Maybe she’ll say something good, though, and I can tell Angelica next time she’s here with me. So I go stand by the bedroom door to listen.

  She’s sad. Or mad. Or scared.

  She says, “Robbie, no. Just wait.” Then she says, “What if I come right now?” Then she says, “I’m coming right now. Please tell her.…I don’t know. Please wait for me.”

  She comes out of the bedroom real fast and scares me. She says, “Alex. Oh, God. Alex and Lucia.” She looks around the apartment like she’s trying to remember something. Then she says, “I’m going to have to take y’all with me.”

  I say, “Are we going to see Robbie and Cristina?”

  She looks down at me. “How did you…?” Then she says, “Yes, m’ijo. We’re going to see them, real quick. Real fast. Go tell your sister and Tiffany, okay?” Then she goes to the kitchen.

  I go in Tiffany’s room and tell her and Lucia that we’re leaving.

  “Is Mom here?” Lucia says.

  “No, dummy,” I say. “We’re going to visit Cristina and Robbie.”

  I know that Lucia doesn’t know who they are, but I think Tiffany does. I guess Tiffany knows that’s her mom, because she looks at me for a long time, with her mouth open.

  Miss Buena comes in the room. She’s not wearing her apron anymore, and she has on black tennis shoes instead of slippers. “Okay, kids. Come on. We’re going to take a ride real quick. Tiffany, guess what? We’re going to visit your mama.”

  She already has her purse and her keys. We follow her out of the apartment and down the hall to the elevator.

  Natasha

  This Susan Graham is some kind of miracle worker. I’ve never seen Mike listen to anyone’s opinions so respectfully, much less a woman’s.

  She’s telling him, “I understand that, and I believe you when you say that you aren’t doing this to hurt Natasha. But do you understand that because of the way you’ve chosen to do it, that’s how it comes across?”

  Mike nods.

  Susan says, “I want you to look at Natasha and tell her, right now, why you’re doing this.”

  I don’t need Mike to look at me. I don’t want him to. But I want to cooperate with Susan, so I compose myself and look him in the eye. I’m surprised to see that his eyes are glistening.

  “Listen, Natasha. I’m not as good with words as you are, but I’m going to try. The reason I want the kids is…It’s not because I think you’re a bad mother. I just had to say that, because I knew you’d never agree to let me have them. But I want them to spend more time with me now, because I know I didn’t spend enough time with them when we were married. I know that now, okay? I see the way Alex is…He’s like a little carbon copy of you. Even to the point that he’s scared of bugs. And I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with him being like you. I’m just saying it’s made me realize that he’s never learned anything from me. I see the way he looks at me when I try to talk to him. It’s like he doesn’t even know who I am and he’s just listening to be polite. And that’s because I wasn’t around enough.”

  “Well,” I say, “that wasn’t my fault.”

  Susan raises her hand. “Natasha, no one’s saying it’s your fault. Let Mike finish.”

  Mike gives her a quick smile—a nervous smile, not his usual smirk—and heaves a big sigh before continuing. “I know you think I only want to do this now because I’m with Missy, because I’m going to try to get her to take your place and act like the kids’ mom. But that’s not what’s going on. If anything, Missy was the one who helped me see that it’s not too late for me to have a better relationship with them. She doesn’t agree with how I’ve been going about it. But…well, what else was I supposed to do? You weren’t going to listen to me any other way.”

  I can’t believe this. Can I believe this? Is he telling me the truth now, finally?

  Susan puts her hand on Mike’s. “Thank you for your honesty. I know those weren’t easy words to say.”

  I guess he was telling the truth. Susan believes him, and she’s too smart to be fooled by bullshit.

  She extends her other hand, puts it on mine. “We’re out of time. But I think we’re in a very good place now, don’t you? When we meet next week, I’d like you to try to think of ways that we can help repair Mike’s relationship with Alex—with both kids—without hurting each other in the process. Can we do that?”

  We both nod like children in a classroom.

  By the time we leave the office, my eyes are wet and, I’d almost swear, Mike’s are, too. I walk out to my car slowly, feeling like I’ve spent the past hour and a half doing a year’s worth of work.

  As I climb into the Blazer, my phone rings. It’s Geronima. She’s probably wondering what’s taking me so long. “Hello?”

  “Hello, Natasha? This is Oscar.”

  “Oh, hi, Oscar.” Why would he be calling? Hopefully not because anything’s wrong. “What’s…How are you?”

  He says, “I was calling to ask if you’d heard from Gero.”

  “You mean since I called your apartment earlier? No. What’s going on?”

  “Oh, nothing.” His voice is quiet, like he’s turning away from the phone. “She must have taken them to the store or something.”

  It’s seven-thirty now. No, almost eight. It was four when I called and talked to her last. “How long have they been gone?” I say. He doesn’t respond. “Oscar?”

  He sounds like he’s coming up from underwater. I can barely hear him. “That’s the thing. I wasn’t here when they left. But it must have been a while.”

  Is he confused? Did he just wake up? I turn my phone’s volume all the way up and ask him, “Did you call her?”

  “No. I can’t. Her cell phone isn’t working, or it’s off or something.”

  A sick feeling…“So Geronima is gone, with Alex and Lucia? Maybe she took them back to my apartment. Maybe Alex wanted to go play his video games.”

  “No,” he says. “That was the first thing I thought of. I already went over there and knocked. I tried Sara’s apartment, too, but they aren’t there.”

  I’m starting to worry now. But it isn’t time to give in to panic. “Oscar, let me hang up. I’m going to call the phone in my apartment and make sure they aren’t there. I’ll call you right back.”

  He agrees, and I hang up on him to dial our number. Damned old people and their refusal to turn on their cell phones. I have a phone at the apartment just because it came free with the cable. Otherwise I’d only use my cell. I call and hear our phone ring. The answering machine picks up, and I hear my own voice, nasal and unwelcoming, stating that I’ve reached my own number. Where are they?

  I call again. Still no answer.

  They probably went to the store, like Oscar said. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. I call Geronima’s apartment again, and Oscar answers in one ring.

  “They aren’t at my place,” I tell him. “They probably did go to the store. Maybe her cell needs to be charged.”

  “Maybe,” he says. “But I always stay on her about that. She has a charger in the car, so I don’t have to worry when she’s out driving. I keep calling, but she must have it turned off.” He sounds worried. That bothers me, even though logically
there’s nothing to worry about. The sick feeling returns. It’s getting darker. Colder. The wind has picked up and is licking at my windows.

  Oscar says something I can’t hear. There’s static on the line. I feel locked out, trapped where I can’t see what’s happening. I want to start driving, back to the apartments or to wherever the hell my kids are right now. It’s making me angry that I don’t know.

  I hear him sigh. “She’s been so upset lately. I thought it was because of Cristina, and Christmas, or maybe this thing with you and Sara and Haley. But…” He’s waiting for me to say something. I don’t know what. He says, “I’m sorry. I hate to call and worry you like this. But I’m worried myself. She left her insulin here, and it’s almost time for her to take it.”

  The sick feeling melts away, and in its place there is steel. Like a steel rod in my body, holding me up. A metal calm. “I’m on my way. Wait for me there.”

  I start the engine. I make him promise to call me if they come back or if she calls. Now I need to hang up the phone and drive.

  There’s tapping at the window. It’s Mike. I roll it down to see what he wants.

  He’s not teary-eyed anymore. He looks the same as always: like he’s spoiling for a fight. “What are you doing, waiting for me to leave first? You think I’m going to go back in and talk to Susan behind your back?”

  And I see now that he was planning to go back inside and talk to Susan behind my back.

  He says, “No, you were probably planning to go back in yourself. Yeah, well, I’m not going to let you do that.” There he goes, with his constant projections of guilt. But I don’t have time for an argument with Mike right now.

  I shouldn’t tell him. I should just drive away. But no, I’m not the asshole here, so I say, “The kids are missing. Their baby-sitter—my neighbor, the old woman—took them to the store three hours ago, and her husband hasn’t heard from her since.”

  “What?” He looks around like there might be someone lurking in the shrubs around the parking lot, springing to attack. “What did you…Why didn’t you call her cell phone? What are you doing? God, Natasha, I knew you shouldn’t have…See, that’s why I…You should have—”

  “Her cell phone is turned off,” I say. “I’ll find them. I’m going to the apartment now.”

  Leave him. Now drive.

  Call Geronima’s cell phone. No answer. Okay, then keep calling every few minutes.

  Drive fast. Not that fast. Cut around this slow car, but be careful.

  Think.

  Men with guns, hijacking the car. Geronima on the side of the road, heart attack. Alex and Lucia and Tiffany still in the backseat, crying. Afraid.

  Don’t think about that. But go ahead and call the police. Watch out for that torn piece of tire in the road.

  The woman says, “This is 911. What is your emergency?”

  Tell her. Keep your voice clear.

  “Ma’am, I can’t help you with that. You’re going to need to call the non-emergency line.”

  Memorize the number. Hang up. Dial it. Watch the road.

  The man says, “Police.”

  Tell them. Keep your voice calm.

  “Okay, what is your name, ma’am?”

  Answer the questions clearly. Don’t let them waste time by asking you to repeat.

  “What about the license number on the vehicle, ma’am? Do you have that?”

  Tell them you’ll get it and call them back.

  Someone holding a gun to Geronima’s head. She’s dead on the side of the road. Now the gun’s at Alex’s head, and Lucia’s watching, and—

  Stop that. Focus. Try her cell phone again. Drive the car.

  Alex

  Cristina and Robbie must live far away, because we’ve been driving for a long time. I was playing my new Game Blaster that Dad got me for Christmas, but now my fingers are starting to hurt.

  We’re far away from our apartment and my mom’s work. For a while we were next to the freeway, and Miss Buena stopped at a gas station so we could get out and go pee. But now I can’t see the freeways or any of the big buildings anymore. We’re just driving by a bunch of old houses and trees.

  I turn around and I can see Lucia. She’s still holding one of Tiffany’s dolls, but she’s not playing with it anymore. She’s staring out the window. Tiffany’s staring out the window, too, but she looks like she’s falling asleep.

  “Does my mom know where we’re going?” I ask.

  Miss Buena says, “We’re just going real fast. We’ll be back before your mom comes to pick you up.”

  “But what if she comes back early and doesn’t know where we are?” I say.

  “We’re almost there,” she tells me. “I’m just about to find it.”

  “Alex,” Lucia says, “I left Mr. Beary in my backpack.”

  She’s saying that because she’s scared. She only remembers that bear when she’s afraid of something. I don’t want her to start crying like a little baby, so I turn around and tell her, “Don’t be scared. We’ll go back and get him in a little while.”

  I’m not scared. I’m only worried that if Mom comes back early from her appointment and we’re not there, she’s going to get mad. She’s been mad a lot lately. I think the appointments are about my dad, because she’s always mad and quiet like that when she sees him.

  Maybe they’re going to the courthouse, like they used to. Maybe they’re going there to fight about me and Lucia and whose house we’re going to live in. I hope that’s not why, but I bet it is. That’s what Mom was talking about, I bet, with the other ladies in the park. That’s why she’s been mad but pretending she’s not. I wonder if she’s at the courthouse with Dad right now. I wonder what they’re saying.

  I don’t want to move to another new place, but I don’t want to stop seeing Dad either. But I also don’t want him to take me away from Mom and Lucia.

  I should’ve told Dad that I didn’t want a new room at Missy’s house. Then he and Mom wouldn’t have started fighting again.

  It’s too late to fix it. I should’ve told my dad that I wanted to keep seeing them both. Or I should’ve told Mom. Even if they would’ve gotten mad at me. But now it’s too late.

  Now we’re driving where there’s hardly any houses. It’s just a lot of trees. It’s getting darker, and some of the trees have scary shapes. There’s a broken truck next to one of them. It doesn’t have any wheels.

  I wish we weren’t going to visit Robbie and Cristina right now. It’s taking too long. I want to go back home.

  Miss Buena has the radio on. It was playing old songs when we started driving, but now the station’s messing up, so she turns it off. She’s driving real slow and leaning forward so she can see better. She says, “Where is it? Did we already pass it?”

  I say, “Are we lost?”

  She says, “No. I just can’t find the street we’re supposed to turn on.”

  I say, “Why don’t you call Robbie?”

  She says, “Good idea.” She pulls over on the side of the road and stops. There’s nothing around us now except tall trees. I think we probably passed the right street and went too far.

  Sara

  We were at a used-car lot when I got the call.

  I’d saved up fifteen hundred dollars by then, and I was thinking about getting a newer car instead of wasting any more money on fixing the Impala. I was trying to decide between a crappy old Pontiac and a crappy old Chrysler, both of them with too many miles for the price. Monique and Junior were running around between the cars, with Monique yelling crazy stuff like, “I’m the professor! You’re the wolf man!” Angelica was looking at the cars with me, and she said, “Mama, your phone’s ringing.”

  She has way better ears than me. I looked at the phone, and it was Natasha. I thought, What does she want? I didn’t know if something bad had happened, or if she just wanted to talk, or what.

  She said, “Sara. Hey. Are you busy?” and I said, “Kind of, why?” And she said she was sorry to bother me, bu
t Geronima took off with her kids and no one knew where they went. Because they’d been gone for a long time, and Geronima forgot to take her medicine. And she was just wondering if I’d heard from her.

  And I was like, “Oh, shit.” I hadn’t talked to Gero since the day before.

  And she said, “Okay, well, thanks,” like she was going to hang up. She sounded serious as hell, and I knew she must have been freaking out.

  I said, “Did you call Oscar?” and she said he was the one who called her to tell her they were missing. I asked her if she was at the apartment, and she said she was on the way over there and she had to hang up.

  I was scared then. I didn’t know what to think. I told Angelica, “Get your brother and sister. We have to leave right now.”

  So she got them, and then we peeled out to the apartments.

  Natasha

  I understand that, but in this case I think it’s completely warranted. It’s three children with an old diabetic woman. I’m sure you see the severity of the situation. Yes, I’ll wait. No, actually, let me speak to your supervisor myself. It’ll save time.”

  Someone’s following me from the parking garage. I hear the footsteps speeding up behind me.

  “Yes, I’ve already spoken to the police. They’re working with us. Should I have them call you? Yes, I understand that it takes time. That’s why I’m calling you now, to get the process started.”

  It’s only Mike. Keep going. Take the stairs, they’re faster.

  An officer’s already here at Geronima’s, standing outside her door. Good. Mike appears from the stairwell behind me, out of breath. “Natasha. Wait. What are you—”

  I tell him, “Her cell-phone company is working to locate her phone signal, in case she turned it back on but is out of range or whatever. But it’ll take a while.” Mike sighs. Ignore him for right now. Talk to the policeman instead. “Officer…” Read his badge. “Officer Brown. I’m Natasha Davila. Thank you for coming out.”