Page 18 of This Could Be Us
“What does Edward say?” Lola demands.
“He says it’s a misunderstanding.” I scribble Lupe, Inez, and Lottie’s names in the corner of my notepad. “And that he’s being set up.”
“By who?” Nayeli asks supersoft because my niece in her arms is doing the slow blink of soon-to-be sleep. “Who does he say would do such a thing?”
“He says it’s CalPot’s director of accounting,” I tell them. “Judah Cross.”
“And why exactly does Edward believe the director of accounting would set him up to take the fall for six million dollars being embezzled?” Skepticism sharpens Lola’s words. “Better yet, why does he think we’d believe it?”
“Lola, don’t leap to judge,” Nayeli says. “Have you talked to him at all since he was arrested, Sol?”
“No. He hasn’t called. I don’t… I have no idea what’s going on. The lawyer says he’ll call today.” My voice cracks, but I clear my throat. “I know it sounds ridiculous, Lola. I get it, but I’m not ready to even consider that Edward actually did it. That he would put our family in a situation like this. That I’ve been living all these years with a man who’s capable of doing this. That I’ve had his children and—”
“Okay,” Lola cuts in firmly. “All aboard the hysterics train. I need you to get off at the next stop. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m a cynic. You know that. Edward has never given you reason to believe he’d do this, so we’ll just wait and see how it plays out.”
“I wish I could get away,” Nayeli sighs, patting Angela’s little back. “I’d be on the next plane.”
“No, I’ll be fine,” I rush to assure them. “Yasmen and Hendrix were here last night. They’ll come back today.”
“The new semester just started for me here,” Lola says. “And you know middle schoolers are the worst. Just look at Inez.”
I smother a chuckle because Inez is truly entering thatpiece of workphase of adolescence. It looms ahead like an oncoming train.
“Don’t talk about your niece that way,” I chide unconvincingly. “She’s actually a lot like you at that age.”
“Then you trulyarein for a ride,” Lola says ruefully. “Remember the shit I put Mami through?”
When Lola entered her teens, she and Mami clashed so much, she lived with ourabuelaon the island for a year, then spent that summer with Bray’s mother in South Carolina. We actually joined her there because we missed being together so badly. To this day I still call Bray’s mother Grammy.
“It all worked out,” Nayeli says. “You were only gone for a year, and Inez isn’t that bad, is she?”
“Not yet,” I sigh. “She’s such a daddy’s girl. I hope this doesn’t traumatize her too badly. She hasn’t come out of her room all day.”
“I’ll drive down soon,” Lola says.
“I wish I was closer,” Nayeli adds. “Don’t get me wrong. We loveLA, but I hate being this far away. Plus I’ve been fruitful and multiplied so much, I may not get to leave the state until this one is four years old.”
We all laugh, and I’m glad I called them. I needed this. Even though they aren’t physically here, that safety net of love and acceptance we made for each other as girls, it still holds. It still catches me.
“I’m gonna go. We need food,” I tell them. “Let me finish my Instacart order. I’m not leaving this house today. All of Skyland is buzzing about Edward, and I don’t want the stares or the questions at the checkout line.”
I don’t even bother telling them about the news trucks parked outside. That would only make them feel worse for not being able to get to me right now.
“Boricua High Council adjourned,” Lola says. “Love yous.”
“Love yous,” Nayeli echoes.
“Love yous,” I say, swallowing the burn in my throat. These few minutes almost made me forgot how bad things are.
I pull my laptop across the dining room table to complete my order before checkout. Except it doesn’t check out.
“What do you mean, ‘payment not accepted’?” I mutter, frowning at the screen. My card is the saved payment method, and I’ve used it several times, so I know I didn’t enter the information wrong. Maybe the card is expired and I didn’t realize it. I reach for my purse, but my cell rings, distracting me. I answer, still eyeing the cart of grocery items on my laptop screen.
The contact is Harrington.
Probably someone calling to see why the girls are out of school today.
“Hello,” I answer.