Page 35 of This Could Be Us
Me:Tomorrow is the word, okay? I’ll tell you everything. Just don’t ask me to do it now.
Yasmen:I’m sorry, Sol. I truly am, honey.
And I know that she knows. Not the details, but that they were right. That Edward ain’t shit, and that my life has been one massive falsehood after another.
Me:Love you guys. Come over tomorrow for brunch. I’ll make you a frittata and a Bloody Mary. You know I’m a stress cooker, and you can try to cheer me up.
Hendrix:Heavy on the Bloody Mary. It’s been a long week. Okay. We’ll let it go tonight, but tomorrow, yo li’l ass is telling us everything.
Me:Promise. Tomorrow. Love you.
I turn my phone off because I can’t take their care anymore. It makes me want to cry how they love me no matter what, but my husband whom I’ve known half my life couldn’t manage that. There aren’t enough sonnets for friendship. Not enough songs for the kind of love not born of blood or body but of time and care. They are the ones we choose to laugh and cry and live with. When lovers come and go, friends are the ones who remain. We are each other’s constants.
The girls are in the living room when I enter the house.
“Mommy, look!” Lottie hops up from the couch and shows me the ribbon pinned to her warm-up suit. “First place.”
“Oh, sweetie.”
I’ve never missed a meet. They’re not all crucial, but I’m always there. I hate that I missed this one because I was chasing after their pathetic father, but it had to be done. And I meant what I said. I won’t lie for him. I won’t tell the girls he’s a good man when he’s a cheat and a criminal. We’ll line up our therapists now for the possible daddy issues this may give them, but I will not protect him when he didn’t protect us.
“How was Dad?” Inez asks, glancing up briefly from the game she’s playing on her iPad. “When’s he coming home?”
“He’s fine.” I drop my purse and pharmacy bag on the couch. “It may be awhile before we know when he’ll get out. The lawyer’s working on it.”
Out.
Nothome, because if I find a way to keep this house, he’ll never live here again.
“But he will get out, right?” Lupe asks, setting her phone aside.
“Girls, I want to tell you something.” I perch on the ottoman in the center of the room and look at them one by one. “Your father has made some bad choices. I can’t get into the specifics right now, but he may have to pay for some of the things he’s done.”
“But he said it was Mr. Cross,” Inez protests, her brow creasing into a frown. “That he got set up.”
“No one has set him up,” I say firmly. “I don’t want to talk about thecase too much yet because things are still developing. I just want you to understand that your father may not get out on bail yet. We’ll deal with the rest as we go.”
“But what are we gonna do?” Lottie asks, blinking rapidly, her sweet mouth pulled tight. “Daddy takes care of us.”
“I’ll take care of us,” I tell her without hesitation. I don’t know exactly how, but I will.
“But you don’t have a job,” Inez says.
It’s like a knife to my heart. Edward has barely been around the last couple of years. He said it was increased workload. Now I know it was playing fast and loose with the company’s money and his assistant. I’ve given my whole life to these three humans, to that man, to this home, to this family. And at least in this moment, it feels like my worth to them is measured by the paycheck I don’t have.
“We’re her job.” Lupe pops Inez on the side of her head. “Mom, she didn’t mean it that way.”
“Mean what what way?” Inez’s wide eyes fly to me. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, Mom. I was just saying—”
“It’s all right, baby.” I stand and bend to kiss her head and do the same to Lupe and Lottie. “I know what you meant. I’m gonna go upstairs for a bit, okay?”
“Mom,” Lupe says with a worried frown that’s too old for her face. “Are you sure you’re—”
“I’m good.” I muster a reassuring smile that I hope convinces her because it’s the best I can do right now. “How about pizza for dinner?”
Their agreement is subdued compared to the usual enthusiasm, and I know my girls so well, I can practically see their thoughts floating over their heads. Kids are resilient. They’re trying to go about business as usual, but their father is behind bars. The FBI is involved. They know this could change life as we know it, and they aren’t sure what will happen.
That is one of the parts about being an adult that really sucks. You’re the one who has to be sure or has to figure it out. My parents alwaysfigured it out. We didn’t have a lot of money, but I don’t remember worrying about it. I want my girls to have that. Not blissful ignorance. I knew things were hard sometimes, but I was always sure Mami and Dad would see us through.