Page 67 of This Could Be Us
“You were the one going to bat for her when all that shit went down,” I remind her.
“I distinctly rememberyoualways up at bat for her, and me cheering from the sidelines.”
“Look, she has to support her daughters alone. Edward left their lives in shambles, and she’s catering, decorating, and doing whatever she can to make money.”
“I know.” She sighs. “It’s crossed my mind more than once that she got hurt the most in that situation.”
“Exactly,” I say, pouncing on her compassion. “And considering how much she helped us, it’s kind of the least we can do.”
Delores examines me with X-ray vision, and I’m sure she sees through every excuse and half-truth I used in hopes of seeing Soledad again. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“That’s great.” I turn on my heel and start walking toward the elevator before I reveal something embarrassing.
“Oh, and Judah,” Delores calls from behind me.
I turn to face her, brows lifted and waiting. “Yeah?”
“It’s kind of cute.”
“What?” I ask cautiously.
“The crush you have on Soledad.”
I expel a harsh breath, roll my eyes, and stalk into the elevator as soon as it opens, but her guffaw chases me.
So much for not embarrassing myself.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
SOLEDAD
You guys ready?”
I look over at Lupe in the passenger seat and glance to the back, where Deja sits.
“I guess so.” Lupe pushes a chunk of fiery red hair behind her ear, eyes cast down to her lap.
“Lindee says Mrs. Garland has been really sick,” Deja offers from the back seat, her voice hushed. “Like from the chemo or whatever.”
“I remember that from when my mother had cancer,” I tell them. “It’s the worst. Exhausting. You don’t feel like doing anything.” I smile at them both. “That’s where we come in.”
I get out of the Pilot and go to the trunk, which is loaded with my favorite cleaning supplies and several large reusable bags of storage containers for food.
“A clean house makes most things a little better,” I tell them. “Or at least it makes me feel a little better most of the time.”
“Should I grab footage for CleanTok?” Lupe asks. “That last post of your cleaning hacks got like three million views.”
“Nah. This is just for us.” I glance up at the two-story redbrick house, which seems a little desolate and bleak. “And for them.”
The porch could use some brightening. A quick Target run may be in order. One of the Harrington momsdidgive me a gift card for organizing her pantry. I was saving it for a rainy day, but Cora’s gloomy porch seems an even better reason to use it.
“Put your masks on, girls. Cora’s immune system is probably somewhat compromised.” I pull out a mop and my favorite vacuum. “Now let’s get to it. The sooner we start, the sooner we can wrap up and you can get on with your weekend.”
Lupe grabs two bags and strides toward the house. “Lindee’s been bummed big-time. I can’t imagine how she feels.”
I can. Terrified. Irrationally angry becauseWhy my mom?Sad most of the time and guilty when she’snotsad. I ran the gamut of emotions when Mami was diagnosed. I had so much hope, though. I had never seen anything beat my mother. Cancer wouldn’t be the first.
It was the first. And the last.