Authors: Josefina Gutierrez
Chapter 12
A new day, another tomorrow. It’s beginning to feel like the start of a new year is almost upon us, which means a new year, a new me.
I’ve decided to buckle down and start
being
a grown up, not just acting like one. To stop putting things off until another day, another tomorrow.
I know I have to start packing up my parents’ stuff. Opening the window to let a gust of cold air in, I feel the chill on my face.
On one hand, it feels so callous and heart-wrenching to pack their stuff up. On the other hand, I can’t just leave everything in its place longer than it has been.
I sit on the edge of their bed. The wrought iron headboard is cold from the winter air. I lay my head against it, cooling the back of my neck. I close my eyes, allowing the air to overtake my senses, nulling my emotions. I still haven’t cried since the funeral.
It’s been only a few months since I moved back down here and started taking up the role of surrogate sister-mom. Yet every night I feel the pull to sleep in their bed, in the protection and warmth of some lingering essence from both of them. I realize those nights haven’t exactly been my most defining moments, but it feels wrong to pack up memories in a box and store them away.
“Give me a sign,” I whisper.
I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until the wind picks up speed and sends an angel crashing to the floor. I take my time getting up to survey the damage—there’s no point in rushing. I stand over the fallen angel. His wings are broken, one foot inches away from his decapitated ceramic head.
The light catches something glittering beneath him. I kneel down, looking closer, and I laugh aloud at what I find. Money. Lots of money. Well, considering my parents weren’t working for some big shot company like Charlie, it’s a lot.
I shake money and change out of the angel, separating it to count it. There is three hundred and seventy-two dollars and seventy-seven cents—that wicked angel was holding out on me.
“Thank you,” I say to no one in particular, but it feels right. I stash the money in my pocket to think about later. Then I glue my angel back up.
After packing up my parents’ room. The house is starting to feel a lot emptier. I miss Charlie making his unexpected visits. I miss him and the boys fighting over who gets to play next on Call of Duty. I exhale loudly, looking around the living room; I know I can’t stay another day. If I stay, I’m just going to go crazy thinking about him.
I run up the stairs and pound on the boys’ door, “Hey, pack up! We’re going on a trip!” I yell running off to my room to pack.
It’s not as if I’m running away; I do have to go and pick up all my stuff anyway. So in a way, this is me killing two birds with one stone. And if I happen to not think about Charlie, hey, bonus. That angel stirred more in me than chance.
“Where are we going?” Jeremiah asks, filling up my doorway.
“We’re going to visit Vanessa for a few days,”
“Cool!” His smiles widens as he glides back into his room to pack.
Even Jeremy is a tiny bit happier we are leaving town for a while. I can see him trying to conceal his excitement under all that present brooding.
The drive to the place that’s been my home for four years was thrilling. With every mile marker, I can feel my worries decreasing. Even though boys have been in a constant fight over the music, I get lost in the feeling of traffic and city noise.
I pull up in my old driveway and honk the horn because I know it drives Nessa up the walls. The boys and I laugh when she comes out of the house shaking her fists at us but still smiling.
“This is a pleasant surprise,” she tells me, walking over to hug the boys. Vanessa gets lost in the ever-growing giants who are Jeremy and Jeremiah. And I smile proudly.
“I thought we all needed to get out for some fresh air and perspective,” I say, dragging the luggage out of my car.
“How in the world did you fit all that in there with these two lumberjacks?” she asks, shaking her head in disbelief.
“I am a pro at puzzles and jenga.” I stand back to envy my work. “Alright boys.” I pat them each on the shoulders, “You got this.” I snap my fingers and thread my arm through Vanessa’s, walking inside.
We can hear them scoff and complain the entire time.
“So why are you really here?” she asks without hesitation.
“Like I said, fresh air and perspective.”
“From?”
“Their failing school,” I whisper, afraid they’ll overhear. “Jeremy has been suspended from the team until he can pick up his grades.” I sigh, bumping my head against the wall. “I didn’t know it was
this
bad.”
She pulls me into a hug, “Then beat some sense into them,” she smirks.
Pfft.
“If only.” I roll my eyes.
“Oh right. You probably couldn’t reach them to do it,” she laughs.
And the boys come in, swinging the luggage onto the floor. “What’s so funny?” Jeremy asks, eyeing us suspiciously.
I clap my hands together, “Who’s hungry? I thought we could have a special dinner.”
“Since when do you have money?” Jeremy asks, arching his eyebrow. He’s probably thinking I’ve been holding out all these weeks—as if.
“I was saving.” I put my hands on my hips, egging him on. He just plops on the couch with a hushed, “Whatever.”
“Can we really have takeout?” Jeremiah’s eyes widen with anticipation. Poor thing. He makes me feel bad about not ordering take out or the occasional bad-for-us fast food.
“You bet your sweet slam dunk, we can.” I pull out a fifty from my pocket. “We should be able to treat ourselves for a night…and morning…and lunch, because you’re eating leftovers,” I shrug my shoulders. “Sorry. But hey, it’s exciting right?”
Jeremiah shoves Jeremy, “Yeah it is. Right?” he tells him.
Jeremy nods his head, but his face is blank and distant.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
We order three large pizzas and fight over the pepperoni. It feels like, maybe, just maybe, they are warming up to me. They take a pizza with them and sleep in my old room, while I’ll be sleeping with Nessa. I check on them and bring back the empty pizza box to throw away.
I get comfortable on the couch and prop my feet up on the coffee table. Nessa is giving me her googly eyes, so I know she knows. I know, she knows.
Ugh
.
“I slept with Charlie,” I blurt out before I can stop my mouth from forming the words.
“No shit! Finally!” Vanessa yells, excitedly jumping on the couch.
“But then I told him it was a mistake.” I bring my arms up to block my face.
“Why the hell would you do that!?” She hits me, and I move to dodge some of them.
“I don’t believe in destiny. I can’t allow myself to get distracted. I’ve been doing so well,” I pout so she goes easy on me.
Nessa sighs, “At least it would be a happy distraction,” she says, stroking my hair.
“Come on Nessa, it never would’ve worked.”
“Why not?”
“It just wouldn’t.”
“Oh so you just
know
, huh?”
“Yes,”
“Cris, you’re my best friend and my sister, but you are stupid. And I mean that with so much love,” she tells me, blowing a kiss.
“I can feel the love.” I roll my eyes.
She holds her hand up, “He’s been in love with you for like ever.” She folds her thumb. “You love him, but you’re too mensa to realize it.” She counts off her index finger. “You’re parents adored him. It’s like he had his own key. Where the heck was my key?” she counts off another finger.
“You never would have used it even if you had one,” I remind her. She was always fond of climbing through my window.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“He can support you and the boys.” Only her pinky stands. “He can handle your crazy.” She opens her hand and playfully slaps my forehead.
“All I’m hearing is he’s a good friend.”
She groans and falls back on the couch. “You miss him, I know you do. And don’t say it’s because he’s a
friend
,” she does air quotes, and places her feet on my lap.
“I do not.”
She sits up, her piercing eyes staring at me, “So then you missed me?”
“Of course I did.”
“Liar!” she falls back down. “You’re here to get your mind off of him. It’s cool. I don’t mind being used and abused.” She rolls over pretending to cry.
I squeeze next to her on the couch. I gently pull back strands of her crimson-colored hair, and begin braiding it like I used to when she was upset. “I do miss him, but I had to do it. He has a life and a business. He’s an adult. And I don’t even know how to be one yet.”
“So what I’m hearing is, if you got a better job and everything was fine at home, you would reconsider,” she says, muffled into the seat cushions.
“I don’t know. He still lied to me Nessa.” I finish her braid and let it land on her side. I can’t think of my life without him in it. It’s not even about him having everything so together, it’s more than that. I can’t explain it.
“So do something about it,” she says, starting to braid my hair.
“It’s easier said than done, trust me.”
“Oh excuses! How about you set a timeline, huh? Like in four weeks, you’ll focus on a better job. And in two months you’ll have their grades up, huh?”
“You think that’ll work?”
“You have six months, girl, get it together,” she tugs on the end of the braid.
I nod my head, “You’re right. I will,” I tell her.
She pats my leg, “We should go to sleep if you want to show them around tomorrow.”
“You think I can get through to them?” I ask, curious if she actually believes I can inspire them.
“For sure, chica,” she smiles, walking to her room.
I follow, changing into my pajamas and leaving my braid in my hair. I fall asleep hoping I can believe in myself.
Chapter 13
I wake up to two missed calls from Charlie and a text asking if we’re even spending Christmas and New Years with each other. Like I need another reminder of being alone during the holidays. I turn my phone off and bang on the guest room to wake the boys up.
They both groan and mutter what I’m sure is only pleasantries. Vanessa makes me the strongest coffee under the sun, and I’m thankful to be back in my kitchen, with my amaziing French press.
“What are your plans today? You going to show them around jail and underpasses?” she asks sarcastically.
“No,” I say, putting down the paper. “I thought we could walk around the village since it’s winter break.”
“In that case, you’ll need something for after.” Nessa hands me an envelope. She squeals, jumping up and down. “It’s exciting!”
I roll my eyes, unimpressed. I’m sure it’s just another one of her boring PR events. I grab the envelope, noticing the name in the top left corner. It’s Olive.
Wow
. I haven’t heard from her in months. It was so sad when her stupid ex-boyfriend up and left her. She’s like the ideal woman. Hell she’s perfect.
“Well I haven’t heard from her since,” I pull out an invitation.
“She started taking care of her sister,” Nessa finishes my thought.
I nod my head, “This should be fun.” I snap my fingers.
I knock on the bathroom door. “Boys, stop primping. Breakfast is going to be gone by the time we get out there.” I kick the door on our way out for good luck.
Ever since I found the money, I knew we had to come out here to figure out our next move. Whenever a year begins anew again, it feels fresh. You can grab life by the reigns and create the world you want to be in.
A new year.
A new opportunity.
A new life.
We walk through the village side, looking into all the small boutique shops. And it reminds me of all the study sessions spent outside drinking coffee after coffee with Nessa as we people watched instead of studying.
“You know, if you two do decide to go after the scholarship and apply to school, you could be sitting at one of these tables living a true college experience.”
“It’s too noisy,” Jeremiah cringes, and Jeremy nods his head in agreement.
“Maybe that’s why you always did so bad in school. You spent too much time out here instead of in there,” Jeremy pokes my head.
I laugh, messing up both their hair. “Still graduated didn’t I?”
They scoff and both say, “Barely,” looking at each other and then cracking up laughing.
“Okay, okay.” I pat their shoulders, walking backwards, “Follow me. I want to show you something.”
I dance to the rhythm in my head as I lead them to a little art shop. The shop is tucked away in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it way. The white bricks cascade one after the other. Red velvet curtains cover the glass display, with only one name embossed on a plate, Evelyn Gonzalez.
“What are we doing here? A hippie expo?” Jeremy asks, picking up a braided bracelet from the front table.
I hand my invitation to the person behind the table. He stops texting to take our invitation. His dark curls cover his eyes, smelling faintly of peppermint oil.
“Well, well, well. Cristal Escobedo right?” he says, smirking.
“Do I know you?” I try to place his face but I’m coming up empty.
“Oh no sorry. I’m a friend of a friend. Olive is in the back somewhere, I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.”
Then it hits me, his curly haired disposition would be hard to forget. I can’t believe it took me this long. “Brody, right?”
“Sí. It’s nice to meet you all.”
“You too.” I thank him for the booklet and walk through the open floor. “Come on, you’ll like this.” I nod for them to follow me.
The art on display in sharply different from anything they’ve ever seen. They both stand in the entryway surprised at what they see. Big murals, small canvases, aluminum cans made to look like a bumblebee. It’s in your face kind of art, in the best possible way.
I smell her before I see her. I turn around to see my friend, Olive.
“Ah girlie,” Olive says, pulling me into a strong embrace.
“I’ve missed you.”
“I’m glad you could make it. Hey, I heard what happened, you okay?”
“Yeah we’re good.”
“If you need anything, I’m here for you.”
“Thanks. So…this is all very exciting.”
“Yes it is. I’m so proud of her. Kids grow up so fast,” she smiles. “I heard from a little birdie about you and Charlie. Finally!”
“What little birdie? It wouldn’t happen to be Vanessa would it?” I ask. “God. She can’t keep her mouth shut.”
Olive laughs, shaking her head. “He did.”
“You talked to Charlie?”
“Well….” She looks across the room, and Charlie is talking to a girl: a very pretty girl. She’s twirling her hair around her dainty finger, laughing like he just said the funniest thing she’s ever heard.
“She’s pretty,” I say, annoyed. She’s pretty in a Leighton Meester meets Elizabeth Olsen way.
God, her legs are longer than my entire body. I already don’t like her and I don’t know her.
Olive chuckles, “No need to be jealous. He only has eyes for you.”
I shrug, “Not anymore.”
“What? What happened? He didn’t…he didn’t say he had a problem with you moving back right? Because I didn’t think he was like that.”
“It wasn’t that.” I sigh. “He was fine with that.” I wave it off.
She pulls me into a hug. Always a mother hen this one. “I can tell him to leave.”
“No, no. It’s fine. He sure looks busy with her anyway.”
“Okay. I’m going to go check on Evey. Perk up,” Olive says, handing me a glass of tea. I look back at them and she’s gone. Probably twirling her hair somewhere. Figures.
“Who are you looking for?” he whispers into my ear. And I jump to turn around to see Charlie.
“No one.” I sip my tea.
“Well no one went over there,” he points behind me. She has her arm around a man the complete opposite of Charlie. I shrug casually. “She seems to like everybody,” I mutter.
“I would hope she would like her boyfriend, otherwise they’d be in trouble.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Yeah, boyfriend.” He steps closer to me, placing a hand on my hips. “Why haven’t you answered my calls? I’m really sorry.”
“This isn’t about us. We’re here to support Olive and Evey.”
“I am here to support them too. I bought some of her paintings. They’re going to look great in my office.”
“Of course you bought paintings,” I say, drinking the rest of my tea. “I have to check on the boys.”
“Cris,” he says, reaching out for my wrist, but I pull away quickly.
“Don’t,” I whisper with a silly smile. “I don’t want them to know something is wrong.” I wave, mouthing to the boys, I’ll be a minute. “I can’t get into this with you here. You lied. I can’t forget it as easily as you can.”
Charlie scoffs, “You’re acting like I lied about some affair or embezzling money. I’m doing what they asked me to do. You can’t blame me for that.”
I step up on my toes to kiss his cheek for appearances, then whisper, “You’re right. You’re only doing what they asked, but did they ask you to keep this from me because I’m so fragile or was it because you all thought I would be careless with the money?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose, placing a finger over his mouth.
For a second I wish none of this happened and we could celebrate this huge milestone together. We could actually be together instead of putting on an act that everything is so damn okay. I don’t want to kiss him on the cheek. I don’t want to be mad at him. It’s not like I’m being petty, he shouldn’t lie about something as big as this.
“It’s both,” he finally says.
I begin to pout, feeling my lip quiver, but I recover quickly. Standing up straighter, I say, “Both.” I nod my head. “Okay. Well I need to get back to them.” Charlie starts to say something, except I’m walking as fast as I can without drawing too much attention.
Both. Both!
Sure, I’ve been a little chaotic lately. Sure, I haven’t had a stable job in weeks. But it doesn’t mean I would spend all my parents’ money and kick my brothers out on the street. What kind of daughter would I be? Better yet, what kind of family would even think for a second I would do that?
How could he think I would do that?
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. This isn’t about me. I go over to where the boys are huddled with Olive and Evey. They are looking at a painting she made. Blue swirls are wrapped around what seems like a stream of yellow, a fallen angel reaching up out of the darkness—a raptured being torn in two. All her paintings are colorful and filled with bits of heartache—heartache someone so young shouldn’t have had to experience.
“This is beautiful,” I tell Evey.
“Thank you. It means a lot coming from you.” She wraps her arms around Brody. Her scars aren’t as covered as they used to be, out in the open in a spaghetti floral romper.
I scoff, “Oh no, no. I don’t know why.”
“Are you kidding? I’ve seen your pictures from college. You’re really good.”
“I…no.” I shake my head.
“She’s just being modest,” Olive chimes in.
“I don’t really do that anymore.” I shrug.
“Yeah, well, it’ll come back. Anyways, thanks for being here and bringing those two. I didn’t think anyone was going to eat her food,” Evey says, changing the subject and nodding to Jeremy and Jeremiah surrounding the snacks and punch bowl.
“Hey!” Olive bumps her. “That hurts. We can’t all be great cooks like you.”
“Obviously,” Evey says and we all laugh.
The boys and I stay until the close of the night, bidding everyone farewell. We each walk to our cars, and I sit on my hood waiting for the boys to wrap up their animated conversation. I look over to Charlie one last time while he’s talking to the boys outside his car. A sad smile crosses my face. I don’t hear the small shuffle of steps approaching.
Evey leans in to whisper, “You should talk about it because if it festers you’ll just go crazy.” She laughs, circling her finger around her temple. “Trust me, I would know.” She smiles sympathetically.
“Yeah. I don’t have anything to talk about.” I look back at her.
How did someone so young get so wise? I put on a damn good show in there. I thought at least.
“Hey, so you and Olivia are pretty close. I mean a lot closer after, you know,” I say, focusing my attention on her now.
She rubs her arm out of habit more than anything. “You mean how can we be so close now after not seeing each other for a long time?”
“Yeah. Not that my brothers and I aren’t close, because we totally are. But, it’s just,” I sigh. “I don’t know. You seem to be in such a better place. I don’t know if we can ever get there.” I kick a stone by my feet.
“I think you’re looking at it all wrong.” She leans against my car, crossing her arms. “You keep focusing on the negatives: you weren’t around as much, you’re a lot older, blah blah blah. If you keep doing that, then you’ll miss out on what’s in front of you.”
“And what’s that?”
“Other than an insanely hot man-child?” she smirks.
I laugh, “Yeah, other than that.”
“I love my sister, not because people think she’s perfect and not because she’s all I had left. It was more than blood and family. It’s a bond we share. You can’t describe it and you can’t break it.” She leans against my shoulder.
“They adore you. You should hear how they talk about you. They are way too wrapped up in trying not to disappoint you that they thought about giving up basketball. And probably won’t go through with that school if they think you can’t pay for it.”
“They told you all this? What, why?” I ask, shocked I didn’t hear it from them.
“I’ll let you in on a little fact, us kids know a lot more than you give us credit for. Olive isn’t nearly as sneaky as she thinks she is. And neither are you.”
“What does that mean?”
“Assume they know everything and go from there. Oh, and start taking pictures again. Hmm.” She hugs me before leaving.
I stand there stunned to silence. An eighteen year old just handed it to me, and I have to say, in the best possible way.