The Grief Keeper

by Alexandra Villasante

Rey waves.

  “Are you hungry?” she asks at the same time I say, “I talked to Indranie yesterday.”

  “Oh, so you’re thinking about people and I’m thinking about food. That sounds about right.” She takes a handful of almonds out of her pocket. She gives me the bag, and I take a few. They’re salty and smoky. They make me feel hungry for the first time in a week.

  “So, what did Mommy Dearest have to say for herself?” Rey asks. I carefully review her words to see if I understand their meaning. I shake my head slightly.

  “Who is Mommy Dearest?”

  She smiles crookedly. “I swear, that time I wasn’t doing it on purpose. I just forget sometimes that you might not get all my little jokes. Mommy Dearest is Indranie.” She waves her hands above her head. “Too complicated to explain why right now, except to say that I don’t mean it in a bad way. Indranie’s all right. She’s been hoping to be my stepmom for a long time.”

  “She does spend a lot of time at your house. But I wasn’t sure why.”

  “Yup. Beast with two backs.” She winces. “Sorry. I have to stop the verbal acrobatics. It’s a sickness.” She clears her throat. “She basically lives with us. Only keeps her apartment in Alexandria so her hundreds of gray suits have somewhere to hang. Dad and Indranie have been together for years.”

  I remember how Indranie’s voice was full of self-hate when she told me about all she’d done to me and Gabi. All she’d done for Rey. “She loves you like a daughter.”

  “I guess,” Rey says, ducking her head down a little. “So, what did Indranie say?”

  I hesitate. Indranie’s story isn’t mine to tell. “She wanted me to take the cuff off. She didn’t want me to suffer so much.”

  Instead of making Rey happy, my small admission causes her to frown.

  “Did they know what they were doing to you? Did they understand?” she whispers. Her questions hang between us, painful.

  “I don’t know. I only know that Indranie didn’t want you to suffer. And now she doesn’t want me to suffer either.”

  Rey’s expression blooms into anger. “Who the fuck are they to decide who suffers and who doesn’t?” I don’t know if Rey expects me to answer. When I stay silent, she continues, her voice rising in disgust. “They were fine letting me be a vampire? Sucking you dry of your good feelings and leaving you with just the black stuff? The stuff no one wants?”

  I think of how I felt after the cuff worked for the first time. Empty yet still filled with pain. Un vampiro, a creature that takes and takes. That’s not who Rey is. “It wasn’t like that.”

  “I thought you were doing this with me, Marisol, I swear. I didn’t know I was the one hurting you like that.” She hugs herself into a ball, closing her eyes against tears. “I should have realized what was happening. I’m so, so sorry.”

  If I say it’s okay, she won’t believe me; we both know it’s not true. I don’t want any more untrue things between us.

  “You were a wolf,” I say.

  “What?” She sniffs.

  “You were in the dark, a hurt wolf. You know.”

  “A rabid animal.” Her lips twist bitterly.

  I put my hand on her arm. It’s the first time since the cuffs came off that I’ve touched her first. “Not rabid, hurt.”

  “I was the one who hurt you.”

  I shake my head. “No. That makes me sound como una víctima.”

  “You aren’t a victim.”

  “See?” I smile. “You do know a little Spanish.”

  She rolls her head toward me, looking up with a smile.

  “I could learn.” Her grin stops my heart. It must stop every heart around us, every person sunbathing and playing on the rocks. It is that strong. “You could teach me.”

  “Yes. I could,” I say.

  I tell myself that I won’t be the first to look away from Rey’s eyes, I won’t be a coward, but I hear a bell and turn to look. On the dirt path that runs along the smooth black rocks, a man with a bicycle and a big silver box strapped to the handlebar rings a bell.

  “¿Paletas?” I ask.

  “Ice cream,” she agrees.

  Chapter 29

  Why do you like me?” Rey asks as she bites gumballs out of a square yellow ice cream. I think the ice cream is supposed to be a face.

  “What do you mean?” We walk along a path in the woods that leads to a ruined building Rey wants to show me. It’s cool here and smells wonderfully of tierra y arboles.

  “You’ve seen me try to throw myself from a balcony. You’ve seen me unshowered and crazy.”

  “You’ve seen me that way too.” I was disappointed in the ice cream the man was selling. They weren’t paletas, freshly made, packed with fruit. They were more like frozen cakes on a stick. But the one I picked—no faces or gumballs for eyes—is delicious, strawberries and crema.

  “Fair, fair. But still. Why?”

  I think back to the first moment I saw her. It would be stupid to say that I liked her then. She was crouched against the door to her balcony, her long golden hair in knots, her face a map of devastation. When her eyes found mine, I didn’t see her beauty at all. I saw her pain. And I thought I could understand her. But I can’t say any of those things.

  “You’re funny,” I say, and I cringe at how lame I sound.

  She breaks a twig off a nearby tree and smacks me with it.

  “I’m not funny. At least, not lately.”

  “But you can be now?”

  Rey pauses, chewing. I wonder how she can chew gum and eat ice cream at the same time.

  “A little. It’s not like, Praise be! I’m healed!” She gives me an exaggerated smile, wiggling her fingers by her face. “It’s more like, I’m going to keep going, no matter how heavy I feel.”

  “So, the experiment worked? A little?”

  Rey finishes her yellow ice cream.

  “I don’t know if the cuff worked. Wearing it did give me the chance to breathe. I’d nearly convinced myself I wanted to stop breathing altogether.”

  “So, it did work.” It’s stupid to keep asking, but I want to know that what I went through was worth something.

  “Doesn’t matter if the experiment worked a little or a lot. It was heinous what that cuff did to you.” She finds my hand and squeezes. I love and hate how she will take my hand, will touch me before even I know it’s what I want. I love the pulse of electricity that shoots through me. I hate being scared of what happens next. I’m waiting for La Suerte, and I don’t know if she will be good or bad.

  “Here it is,” Rey says, stopping in front of a brick wall the color of red clay and gray dust.

  “What is it?”

  “Well, it used to be a factory. To make buttons. No. That’s not right. I should text Dave.”

  “Is Dave your best friend?” I ask.

  “No. He’s a good friend, though.”

  “Was he your boyfriend?” I follow Rey as she walks through the arched opening to the ruined building. On the other side, most of the building is missing, crumbling into the parts of nature surrounding it. Wooden boards rot into dirt. I wonder what the blocks of stone, the old pieces of rusted iron were used for.

  “In junior high. For like a week. He bought me a book on growing mushrooms. That was kind of the end of romance with him.”

  “So, you liked boys?” I am careful not to look at her when I ask.

  “Not really. I went out with Dave because he asked me. It seemed like the thing I should do, you know? It was seventh grade, and suddenly everyone was pairing up like the freaking Ark. Dave asked. And asked and asked. And I couldn’t think of a good reason to say no. So I said yes. Beside the mushroom book, I knew pretty quickly that boys were not for me.”

  I don’t speak.

  “Does that seem weird to you? You’ve only ever dated girls?”

&n
bsp; It takes me longer than I like to find my words. “One girl.”

  Rey stops on the small hill we’re climbing behind the ruined building. “You’ve only ever dated one girl?”

  My face feels like it’s on fire. “Before you. At home. A girl. I liked girls on TV before. Not real girls, girls on TV.”

  A horrified look comes over Rey’s face before melting into a grin. “You liked AMBER!” she almost screams.

  “Shush!”

  “You did! You had a crush on Amber from Cedar freaking Hollow!”

  I keep walking up the hill. “How do you know I didn’t like Aimee?”

  Rey catches up to me. “Because Amber’s the hot one. No question.”

  “They are both very pretty.”

  She rolls her eyes at me. “Come on. Amber is the one always conveniently wearing short shorts and forgetting her sweater. She’s the one who goes skinny-dipping while Aimee fumes about it in the car.” She shakes her head, her smile even wider. “Of course you liked Amber.”

  “Did you like Amber?” I ask.

  Her grin turns fierce, and it ignites me. “Like a beast. Oh, man. The times I’d slo-mo those DVDs—it’s not for polite conversation.”

  I blush hard as we laugh together.

  At the top of the hill, we can see the water and the gray-black rocks. The ruin is on the main part of the island.

  “Why don’t you say the s in island?” I ask Rey.

  “It’s not just me, you know. Everyone skips the s.”

  I smack her lightly on the shoulder. “I know that. I just mean, why not?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t question words. Probably because I only know one language. You’re always comparing and contrasting how things work. I just talk.”

  Beyond the beach of rocks, I can see the bridge we walked across—it is farther away than I realized. We must have walked a long way. On the other side is a cemetery with pretty white stones and tall trees. Rey points to it.

  “That’s why I keep wanting to text Dave. He’s got illustrious dead buried there. Old southern family, full of pompous asses.”

  “You are lucky to have good friends,” I say.

  “Fuck yeah, I am. And I kept them away for too long. They hurt too much. Their faces reminded me of Riley. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have been able to see them again.”

  “Is that why you like my face? Because it doesn’t remind you of Riley?” I don’t know where I find the nerve to say it.

  “I like your face because it’s attached to the rest of you.” My face gets hot again, like I have a fever that comes in waves.

  “And anyway, I don’t think anything could keep me from thinking of Riley for long. Even while we wore the cuffs, I think he was trying to break through, you know?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She blows out her breath. “I don’t know. I felt better, lighter, and that was amazing. But I knew the grief was out there, that Riley was out there. I sound sketchy as fuck, I know, but I felt like Riley was a ghost I had to reckon with. Sooner or later.” She looks at me as if I won’t understand. But I understand her too well. “Do you ever think of your brother?”

  I give one quick shake of my head. “I don’t want to think of him.”

  “Too painful?”

  “Yes.”

  “And if you think of the girl who you liked? Is that better?”

  “Worse.”

  Rey steps closer to me, placing her long fingers along my cheek. “And if you think of me? Is that better?” Her face is so close. If I moved my head up, only a little, I could touch her lips with mine.

  She doesn’t smell like Liliana. Not at all. Rey smells like hot rocks and sweat and sweet like pan dulce. “It’s better,” I say. My heart is painful in my chest, dreading the moment Rey will pull away and laugh. The memory of Liliana’s laughter makes me step back, but Rey is faster than I am. Her lips are on mine before I move.

  I have never kissed a girl, not really. I have thought about it and thought about it. One time, I drew a picture of how I thought it would look. I thought about where I should put my hands, the problem of noses. I thought about how long lips stayed together, how long until they parted. And then? I am not a good artist, so my drawing was mostly lines and thinking. When I got frustrated, I ripped up the scribbled drawing and burned it en la estufa. But I never thought about how soft a girl’s lips would be. I never felt my own to be soft. I had everything wrong.

  “Are you okay?” Rey asks against my lips. She pushes her cheek gently against mine, nudging me. I notice for the first time the tiny blond hairs across her cheeks. I think about her pale pink cheek against my brown one. Café y crema. I smile and that is my answer.

  Chapter 30

  I want to tell Gabi about Rey, but I don’t think I can. It isn’t that I don’t trust Gabi—I trust her with my life. But Pablo’s words dig like a worm through my mind. Do you think I would let you infect our little sister with your disease? Not everyone thinks I am a twisted thing. Not everyone thinks a girl can’t love another girl.

  But Pablo and Antonio did. Maybe Liliana wanted to think differently. I still don’t know if her attention was real, or if it was because of Antonio. I don’t know what Mamá would think. I never thought further into the future than getting Gabi safe to wonder if I would tell her. Then I think of my tía Rosa. Tía never married. She has lived for many years en el campo with her friend Carola.

  “What are you thinking?” Rey asks. “I tried to decipher what your inscrutable highness was thinking all on my own, but I admit defeat. Defeat! Also, I can’t keep looking at you and driving. I’m afraid I’ll crash.” Her grin widens in the afternoon sunlight. We have been out later than I thought.

  “I was thinking about Tía Rosa. Uh, my aunt Rosa. She lived with her friend Carola for years, and I never thought about it.”

  “Did she wear men’s boots and very thick sweaters?”

  “What?”

  “I’m kidding. But did they have a lot of cats?”

  “No. They had one or two. But they mostly had goats.”

  Rey nods wisely while turning off the highway. “Definitely gay.”

  “You’re just kidding?” I ask, unsure.

  “Sure I am. That’s just one kind of gay. The book says there are many kinds.” Rey keeps her eyes on the road, her face unreadable. We are almost at the house. I have an exhausted feeling in my bones, the feeling of too much smiling and too much kissing. No, there can’t be too much kissing. That’s not possible, especially when I wish I had the nerve to ask Rey to stop by the side of the road, just one more time, so we can kiss again.

  “I can lend you the book if you want,” Rey says.

  I pull my thoughts away from kissing Rey. “Wait, there really is a book?”

  “The gay book. Of course, I only have it in English. But maybe we can get a translation in Spanish. Amazon probably sells it.”

  “There is a gay book?” ¿Será posible?

  “Oh, yeah. You get it when you graduate gay school.” She pats my knee, as if to reassure me. “I know you haven’t been to gay school yet, but when you go, you’ll do fine. You’re already really good at the girl-kissing.”

  She tries but can’t keep the smile off her face. The smile turns into giggles the longer I stare at her in disbelief. I have trouble finding the right thing to throw at Rey—something that punishes her for making fun of me but that doesn’t distract her from driving—but finally, I find a small bag of candy.

  “You could have opened the bag first and thrown the jelly beans actually into my mouth,” she says. We’re at the gates of the house when Rey stops the car suddenly. The gates are closed.

  “Oh, sweet baby Jesus,” Rey sighs.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s probably Dad and Indranie, and they are probably going to lose their
shit.” She digs under her seat until she finds a little remote. She pushes the button and the gates open slowly, reluctantly.

  “I haven’t ever seen the gates closed,” I say.

  “Yeah,” Rey says distractedly as she parks the little car next to Indranie’s car. We walk to the carriage house, and the door opens before we get there. Mr. Warner stands at the door, a terrible expression on his face.

  “Thank God,” he says, hugging Rey to him as fiercely as a punishment. I stand behind her, wishing I could escape to my room unnoticed. Behind Rey’s father, I see Indranie. And the expression on her face is so painful I cannot move.

  * * *

  We sit around the glass table where the two CTS cuffs still sit like accusations. Everyone has cups of coffee in front of them, but no one is drinking. I hear Olga in the kitchen, trying to be quiet enough so she can listen to our conversation. But no one has been talking.

  Mr. Warner clears his throat. “Reyanne. I’m glad you’re home and safe. I was worried about you.”

  She traces her fingers behind her ear, and I remember placing a kiss on that ear only an hour ago. I want to go back to that moment—or any moment today when I could look at her and feel breathless.

  “I’m sorry, Dad. I thought you and Indranie were at that fund-raiser.”

  “We were. But when we got home, you were gone. Then we saw the cuffs.” He gestures at the glass table. The living room is clean again—the breakfast tray, the extra blanket, everything has been put away. But the cuffs are exactly where we left them last night. “You didn’t answer your phone. We were worried about you.” He looks at me. “Both of you,” he adds.

  Indranie sits next to Mr. Warner, her body leaning toward where Rey and I sit on the other couch. “The experiment—”

  “The experiment was bullshit, Indranie, and you know it!” Rey bursts out.

  “Reyanne!”

  She turns sharply toward her father. “Dad, do you even know what the cuff does? Do you know how it works?”

  He looks uncertainly to Indranie for an answer, and she places her hand on his knee.