Life's A Cappella

by Smith, Yessi

  Trent looked at me longingly and I was satisfied to see he still wanted more too. Greedy bastard, I thought cockily as he lay down beside me, caressing my stomach. My eyes met his, so I stroked the arm that continued its rhythmic caress over my stomach and watched his muscles contract with the sudden contact. His lips parted and he leaned forward, toward my neck where he touched his lips to my bare skin.

  “Is this why you called me?” he asked, breaking contact. I pouted at broken connection while he smiled his unfiltered, unrestrained smile, clearly amused and proud of himself.

  “No,” I answered honestly. “But I’m not complaining.” I smiled at him, hoping it looked more sexy than stupid. “We should get dressed,” I said, suddenly remembering Shayna was only a doorway away. Next time we would have to take practical measures to ensure she didn’t walk in on us. Would there be a next time, I wondered. I sure as Hell hoped so.

  Getting dressed was the reasonable thing to do, but as I put my pants back on, I felt like I was rebuilding the walls I had started to put up when Gonz first showed up at Trent’s apartment. I tried to ease myself back on the couch, but couldn’t loosen the stiffness of my shoulders, and Trent immediately noticed the difference. I saw the hurt flash in his eyes and wanted to bash my head against the wall. I hated hurting him, but couldn’t seem to stop no matter how much I needed him.

  How much easier life would be if I came with some sort of manual for normalcy. This, Erin, is what you do when you want to move on from a particular problem. Step by step instructions with pictures. Fool proof, right?

  “I forgot all about Shayna today,” I started. “Twice, apparently.” I grinned at him, reliving what we had just done, but was met with eyes that looked right past me. Eyes so cold they couldn’t possibly belong to Trent. I heard my heart pound in my ears as I tried to swallow the dryness that had taken over my throat. I sighed and wrapped my arms protectively over my chest. “After I left work, my brain was somewhere else and I drove straight home and left Shayna with Sofia,” I told him as my face reddened from the shame I still felt.

  “You must’ve remembered about her at some point since she’s sleeping on your bed,” he offered, but his voice was too short, too controlled.

  “I didn’t remember until I was here, parking my car,” I told him and he laughed, with an edge of cruelty I didn’t know he possessed, which infuriated me. Well, at least I no longer felt like a failure. “This was a bad idea. You should go,” I told him.

  Trent stood up, his eyes boring into mine, and I wavered. I looked away from him but forced myself to stand. Trent grabbed my arms and pushed his face close enough to mine that I could still smell my breath on his.

  “Every time, Erin. Every time things get a bit too difficult you push me away,” he accused, and I couldn’t deny it. It was true. And I hated him for speaking the truth. “I don’t know what you want from me,” Trent said, his voice sounding more stern than confused. I watched him as he shoved his hand into his hair, disheveling it. It fell carelessly around his face, and I wanted so badly to run my hands through it again, a way of soothing both of us. “One second you can’t get enough of me, the next you’re pushing me away.”

  He stared at me for a long time, not breaking eye contact, probably waiting for a response. I didn’t have one so I looked back at him, removing all visible emotion from my face, until he finally spoke again. “I’m done,” he told me, putting his hands in the air. “We’re done.”

  “Fine,” I answered with a small nod, my voice devoid of emotion as I accepted my fate.

  “Fine,” he repeated roughly and stormed out of my apartment.

  I stood where he had left me for a moment before my knees gave out and I sat on the floor. I lay down, curling my body into itself and willed myself to cry so the burden and ache I felt in my heart could be released. My warmth was gone.

  I wasn’t sure how long I lay on the floor, only that I had to move. I couldn’t allow Shayna to see me like this. I was grateful to have her, to have some purpose in my life. She was my reason to pull myself up and find my strength.

  I carefully lay down next to my baby sister and wrapped an arm around her protectively. But this time, I was seeking her protection. I felt her squirm towards me and kissed her gently on her forehead. I closed my eyes and tried to stop thinking. I didn’t want to think about Trent and the pain I had known from the beginning we’d bring to one another. I didn’t want to think about Vanessa and the fear in her eyes that spoke to me. I didn’t want to think about the memories the little girl had brought to the forefront of my mind. I didn’t want to think.

  Defeated, I kept my eyes shut and tried not to think. This time, not even music could ease the pain so interwoven throughout my body it was becoming a part of.

  Chapter 27

  Erin

  Hung over from the persistent pang in my gut that had kept me awake throughout the night, I was grateful for the weekend. I wasn’t ready to get out of bed and face the day, so I stretched out my legs slowly, one at a time, trying not to wake Shayna up. At night we seemed to gravitate towards one another, finding our best sleep when we snuggled close to one another. So close that there was hardly any room for air to breath between us.

  I tried to ignore my bladder that was screaming obscenities at me, demanding I relieve myself. I didn’t want to wake Shayna up, but didn’t think I could refuse nature much longer. On a sigh, I squeezed Shayna gently to me before releasing her so I could make my way to the bathroom.

  “You gotta potty?” she asked me, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

  “Yeah,” I apologized. “I have a bladder the size of a sesame seed,” I explained, and she yawned.

  She followed me to the bathroom and sat on her potty until it finished singing to her. After washing our hands, I kissed her on the top of her head, finally saying our good morning’s.

  “Pancakes?” I asked, wiggling my eyebrows up and down quickly so I could hear her laugh.

  “Yes,” she clapped, so I did a quick search on my phone for homemade pancakes and silently thanked my perfectionist ways that compelled me to keep things I didn’t really need in stock in our pantry.

  Shayna ate the same way she seemed to live her life – enthusiastically. I smiled at her and played with my food, not able to eat. A bitter, almost metallic taste had settled in my mouth over the night. I had tried to brush the taste out, but it had remained as a reminder of my broken, bleeding heart.

  I sighed and lifted the fork to my mouth, forcing myself to chew and swallow. I couldn’t let depression take me captive again. I had to be strong. For Shayna. I continued to eat as Shayna chattered on about our day.

  I didn’t want to do the dishes, so I left them in the sink and ignored them as they yelled at me, demanding I clean them. I shook my head at them, reminding myself of what Camilla had told me repeatedly: one of the perks of being adult is not having to clean up. According to her, not only did I not have to make my bed every day, I actually shouldn’t. You know, out of principle. So I left the dishes in the sink.

  I would’ve given them the finger too, if Shayna wasn’t around. But she was, so I didn’t. After a quick wave to the unclean dishes, Shayna and I put on our bathing suits and made our way to the beach where we would meet Sofia. This time I was prepared with towels, sun block, and beach toys. I thought about taking a book, but knew it was futile. Shayna would want me to play with her and I couldn’t possibly deny her that.

  I didn’t want to be one of those adults that eventually grew tired of playing with their kids. I wanted Shayna to look back at her youth with me and know that I had done everything I could to always be there for her. Including pouring water down her potty to hear it sing when she didn’t have to pee.

  Once in the car, I put on Ziggy Marley’s Family Time so I could start to introduce Shayna to the beauty that was music. And to be honest, I had to listen to something other than the regular kid songs. Row, Row, Row Your Boat was starting to make me twitch while Ole’ MacDo
nald made me want to gauge my eyes out. I drummed my fingers to the beat on my steering wheel and watched Shayna bob her head to the music. We were definitely related, I thought.

  Once on the beach, I slipped my flip flops off and wriggled my feet into the sand until they disappeared, just so I could feel the sand between my toes. Shayna skipped beside me as I searched for an empty spot by the shore for us to set our stuff. It didn’t take long. Within a few minutes, I had found the perfect location and was putting sun block on Shayna who was already trying to get away from me so she could play in the shallow.

  “Stop wiggling,” I told her, pinching her nose gently so I could get her attention.

  Her eyes widened a bit and she wiggled her nose at me in response, but stood still long enough for me to lather her up with enough lotion she looked like a porcelain doll. Just as I started putting lotion on myself, Sofia arrived, complete with a cooler and umbrella.

  “What’s in that, Tia Sofie?” Shayna wanted to know, pointing at the cooler.

  “All sorts of snacks,” Sofia responded, bending over to give her a kiss. “Fruits, chips, and have you had croquettas yet?” she asked and Shayna shook her head.

  “Wait until you try them,” I told Shayna. “Best food on the planet.”

  Shayna’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Better than cookies?”

  “A hundred million times better,” I responded, nodding my head emphatically. Already, I could feel my stomach awaken. I may not have been able to eat many pancakes, but croquettas? Croquettas served better as an anti-depressant than ice cream and pizza combined.

  I tried not to stare at the cooler or salivate at its contents too openly. I didn’t want to be the first person to reach for food. In my head, I could clearly hear the banter between Camilla and I during similar situations. She knew my weakness for croquettas and always made sure to bring me a batch when we went to the beach during the day. I never wanted to be the first to reach for food though; it felt rude, but she’d insist and I had easily relented.

  “Dale, mi niña,” Sofia laughed, opening up the cooler and shoving the croquettas in my direction. “Camilla told me how much you loved them, so eat.”

  I looked into Sofia’s face, whose sad eyes were in direct opposition with the smile she gave me.

  “I miss her,” I said aloud as I took a bite of a croquetta. I felt my heart constrict as it always did when I thought about my best friend.

  “Me too,” Sofia admitted, taking hold of my hand. I squeezed her hand back and intentionally filled my lungs with air that I blew out softly.

  “I want,” Shayna demanded, pointing at my half eaten croquetta, so I gave her the rest and watched her as she shook her head adamantly at me. “Cookies are better,” she determined, and Sofia and I laughed.

  I took Shayna’s hand and led her to the shore with a shovel and pail. We filled the pail with wet sand and then found a spot to dump it so we could make a sand castle. Only nothing came out. I had to thump the bottom hard for it spill out, making more of a mountain than a castle.

  “Oh no!” Shayna shouted, looking up at me for an answer. I tried not to laugh, but I didn’t have an answer for her. I hadn’t actually ever made a sand castle before, but had seen kids do it all the time, and I honestly had no idea what we had done wrong.

  “The sand is too wet,” Sofia told us, holding back her laughter. “It should be moist.”

  Puzzled, I said, “I thought that’s what we did.”

  Sofia shook her head at me in laughter. “Ven,” she told us to go to her, so we did. She took the shovel from me and started digging a hole until she reached the moist sand. Geez, I was a dumb ass.

  With the moist sand Sofia found for us, we filled our pail once again and dumped it perfectly on a flat surface we had made with our hands.

  “Again,” Shayna said as she clapped.

  After we built the castle to Shayna’s specifications, we started to dig a moat around the castle so the bad guys couldn’t get to it. While digging the moat, a couple kids approached us, asking if they could help. Shayna eagerly handed them her beach toys and together they continued building a fortress of their imagination.

  I slowly backed away and sat next to Sofia on a towel she had placed under an umbrella.

  “She’s something else,” I told her, remembering Trent’s words from the night before; as I took a sip of the bottled water Sofia offered me.

  “She’s perfect,” Sofia corrected me, and I felt my heart swell with pride. My little sister was in fact perfect.

  ***

  That evening, Sofia invited us for dinner where she’d promised us Camilla’s favorite homemade Cuban meal: bistec empanizado with a side of moro. As soon as I entered her home, my stomach demanded food. Loudly. Shayna laughed when she heard my stomach grumble while I tried to play it off in front of Sofia.

  “That means it’s time to eat,” Sofia told us, so we followed her to the kitchen where I served myself and Shayna.

  “Water?” Shayna asked. “Please,” she added as an afterthought and I winked in approval.

  After I prepared her plate, cutting her steak into bite size pieces, and sat her in her seat, I got her a cup of water. Once at the table, Shayna and I sat quietly as Sofia prayed, and I couldn’t help but wonder what she had prayed for. Was she grateful? What about the grief she oftentimes couldn’t mask? Did she demand answers for that?

  Shayna bounced in her seat as she ate and just when I was going to ask her to sit still, she knocked her cup of water over, sending it spilling off the table and on to the floor. Before I had a chance to react, Shayna jumped off her seat and ran to a corner where I found her huddled as close to the wall as possible. She held onto her legs, holding them close to her chest, rocking back and forth, and refused to let go.

  “Shayna,” I whispered to her, sitting down next to her, trying to maneuver her so I could sit her on my lap. But she wouldn’t look at me. She just kept rocking her body back and forth crying uncontrollably. “Baby girl,” I said again, trying to hug her, trying to get her to quit rocking.

  Finally I was able to place her on my lap and I smoothed her hair back while I held her tightly, whispering to her quietly, trying to bring her back to me. I hardly felt the beating of my own heart, which beat harder as each second trickled by. All my senses concentrated on her. Her wailing, her heart racing, her breathing too fast, too scared.

  Unable to think of anything else, I sang You are my Sunshine to her, hoping music would bring her some comfort. After repeating the words a couple times, I felt her breathing slow down and eventually she looked up at me with eyes that I was sure would haunt for the entirety of my life.

  “I’m bad,” she told me, her eyes spilling over again, her bottom lip trembling, her heart breaking.

  “No, baby girl,” I told her, hugging her to me, but I felt her shake her head at me.

  “Bad,” she told me again, louder, angrier.

  I pulled her away from me so she could look at me, but that proved to be a mistake when she started hitting herself. I quickly grabbed her again, hugging her even tighter to me. As I held her, I felt her heart accelerate and her breathing quicken once again, and I didn’t know what to do. So I continued to hold her against me and repeatedly told her what a good girl she was.

  When I felt her body relax against my own, I told her, “No hitting, okay?” When I felt her nod her head, I pulled her away from me slowly. “No hitting,” I reminded her.

  “No hitting,” she repeated, looking down, refusing to look at me.

  “Shayna,” I said quietly. “You’re not bad. You’re wonderful. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” I told her, and she looked up at me with disbelief in her eyes, and I wondered if the mistrust had always been there and I simply hadn’t seen it. How could I have missed how much my little sister was hurting? “You, Little Miss, are my favorite person in the whole world,” I told her, trying to get a smile out of her, but failed. “I love you, Shayna,” I told her, realiz
ing I had never said those words to anyone. I squeezed her to me and repeated, “I love you. So, so, so much.”

  I felt her little hands wrap around my neck and would forever remember the first time my baby sister told me she loved me too.

  “I don’t go back?” she asked me.

  “Go back where?” I asked, searching her face.

  “To Momma,” she said, her bottom lip starting to quiver again.

  “No, baby girl,” I reassured her. “Your home is with me. You’re my home.”

  Shayna placed her head against my shoulder and I held her in the corner of Sofia’s house until she fell asleep. I got up as smoothly as I could so I wouldn’t wake her up, and walked into Sofia’s living room where I found her sitting on her couch with her trembling hands touching her lips.

  “She’s asleep,” I told her, not knowing what else to say.

  Sofia nodded at me and I could see her eyes, angry, looking back at me, wanting to know who had hurt Shayna so deeply that a spilled cup of water would send our happy girl to such self-deprecation and angst.

  “My mother,” I said, shrugging my shoulders, not able to look Sofia in the eyes, “wasn’t very good at being a parent.” The understatement of the year.

  I stayed quiet, waiting for Sofia to say something, and only looked up when I realized she wasn’t. She patted her hand on the couch so I would join her, and I felt my stomach turn, begging to dispense what was inside. But I reminded myself that this woman was Camilla’s mom. She wouldn’t pass judgment on me.

  Sensing my nerves, she waited until I was more at ease before she spoke. “You did good, Erin,” she told me, and I looked back at her with the same disbelief Shayna had shot at me. “I’m proud of you.”