“You’re back!” Larry said, eyeing the twelve-pack of Shiner Erasmo carried under his arm.
“Well, yeah,” Erasmo said, confused that Larry didn’t know what was going on. “You wanna beer? Looks like you could use one.”
Larry and the boys were flushed and their T-shirts were damp. He’d taken them to the park to shoot some hoops and work off their breakfast, and he thought he was bringing Seamus and Wally home to wait for their mother while Raúl settled down to do his homework. He already thought about offering Carlos some cash so he and his brother could go out for fast food and maybe a movie, so that—at long last—Larry could have some private time with his wife. He was bewildered and a little put off when he saw Beatriz’s brothers and their wives back at the house. Larry wandered to the kitchen, where everyone was chatting and getting drinks.
“There you are!” Beatriz cried. She crossed over to kiss Larry on the cheek. “Hmm, salty.”
“I’ve been calling you for the last hour. How come you didn’t pick up?” Larry felt clueless. He hated being clueless.
“I’m sorry! I left my phone in the car when we were at the mall, and then I was using it most of the afternoon. Are you hungry? Boys, are you hungry?”
Beatriz didn’t have to ask twice. The boys had already picked up plates and were ready to dig in.
“Not yet!” Beatriz demanded. “We’re waiting for the cake!”
“Whose birthday?” Wally asked.
“It’s no one’s birthday. This is a welcome party!” Beatriz said. “You guys look like you’ve been running around all afternoon. Go clean up first.”
Seamus and Wally wailed loudly.
“You’re not eating a thing until you clean up. Go!”
“Their mom is coming pretty soon,” Larry said.
“No, she’s not. She just called and said she was running late,” Beatriz said. “She asked if you could drop them off, and I said that was fine. Isn’t it?”
Beatriz could see the color rise up Larry’s neck, over his face, and up into his scalp.
“Or Carlos could take them.”
“No, no. I’ll take them. C’mon boys,” Larry said stiffly, pointing them through the door. “Go do what she says. Beatriz, I need to talk to you. Upstairs.”
Beatriz followed Larry into their bedroom and began looking for a clean shirt for him to put on. Larry closed their bedroom door behind them and looked at his wife, his hands on his hips.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Lucy said she was running late, and I left it at that.” She could see that Larry was flustered, but she wasn’t sure why. Lucy running late was nothing new.
“No, I mean, what’s going on downstairs?”
“What do you mean, what’s going on? We’re having a little party for Celeste is all. Spur of the moment—I know how you hate that, but I didn’t see any reason to wait, especially since everyone was in town from yesterday. Don’t you have any clean polo shirts?”
Larry pulled off the sweaty T-shirt he was wearing and stripped off his shorts to take a quick shower, while his wife spoke to him over the sound of the running water.
“I was thinking, I’d love to enroll her in that all-girl’s school near where the boys go, but maybe just public school for now,” Beatriz said, laying out clean clothes for her husband. “That’s probably what she’s used to. And I think I should take her for a checkup. The school is going to want to have her current health records before they enroll her. I hope her immunization records are in that envelope she brought.”
Beatriz didn’t notice that Larry hadn’t said a word. When he finished showering, Beatriz was waiting for him, holding out a towel for him to step into, babbling nonstop about how she wanted to redo the guest room—buy new furniture, paint the walls, buy new curtains, and on and on and on. She finally took a breath when Larry sat down on the edge of the bed.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“What do you mean, what am I doing?”
“Come ’ere,” Larry said, holding out his hand to his wife and pulling her to sit on his lap. “Just what do you think is going to happen with her?”
Beatriz was confused. “She’s back. It’s like she’s back,” she said, looking into her husband’s eyes. “I know it’s not Perla, but it might as well be. I see her in Celeste’s face.” Beatriz thought about what Ana had asked her earlier in the day. “Don’t tell me you don’t believe she’s the real thing?”
“No, she’s the real thing all right. I looked at some of the documents she brought. I think she’s telling the truth. It’s just…”
Beatriz pulled back to get a better look at her husband. “It’s just what?”
“Well, Carlos is going away to school this year, and Raúl will be out of the house soon enough. And then, I don’t—”
“You don’t what?” Beatriz said.
“My nephews… Lucy needs help with her boys. And I want to do my part, but we’re supposed to be enjoying our time together.”
Beatriz stood up and crossed to the opposite side of the room to lean on the dresser. “You don’t want her here?”
Larry didn’t answer.
“Larry!”
“I don’t know what I want!” he bellowed. “I mean, this is so unexpected! And then today, I see my nephews are out of whack… and Lucy’s being Lucy… and how come we didn’t talk about this?”
“What is there to talk about? My sister is dead, Larry. The sister who I… the sister who I can only hope forgave me before she died. And if not, the least I can do is take in her girl. And by the way, they’re not your nephews, they’re our nephews. If they need us, we can make room. I don’t mind—”
“But I do,” Larry said.
“Larry!”
“I want to do what’s right, but I also want to spend time with my wife! I bought those tickets to Paris for us! But something’s up with Lucy’s boys, and I can only take one charity case at a time.”
“Paris isn’t going anywhere,” Beatriz said. “And Celeste is family. She’s not a charity case. I’m not turning her out. She doesn’t have anyone else.”
“That’s not true. There’s a whole house full of other choices downstairs.”
Beatriz and Larry were suddenly and painfully speechless. This tear in their relationship was unexpected, like a weak spot in an otherwise flawless weave of cloth. In spite of what everyone said about them, they were the first ones to say their marriage wasn’t perfect. There were scratches and nubs, but nothing that had ever threatened the integrity of their life, their marriage, or the way they assumed the other saw the world. But this thing that had come up between them now was not a small snag that could be darned over quickly. If left untended, it could tear into a longer, wider gash.
“I don’t believe you,” Beatriz said. “I’m going downstairs. You come down whenever, if you want.” She turned on her heel to leave.
“Baby!”
“Don’t ‘baby’ me!” she snapped, turning back to face her husband. “I don’t believe this! Where have you been? Your nephews have been a mess for a long time. You’re just now noticing? I’ve been telling you that for how long? But I never said, ‘Let’s not help them out.’ I’ve always said, ‘Let’s make room. Let them in.’ And now—now, someone on my side of the family needs a little help, and you can’t be bothered? You’re a real piece of work, Larry Milligan. A real piece of work.”
She was already out the door before Larry could stop her. She pounded on her boys’ bedroom doors and on the bathroom door where Seamus and Wally were cleaning up.
“Ándale!” she bellowed. “The food is getting cold!”
By the time Beatriz got to the bottom of the stairs, it was strangely quiet. The boys tumbled down after her but softened their steps when they sensed the change in atmosphere. Larry tiptoed down a few feet behind them. When they all reached the kitchen, the silence began to make sense. Ana had arrived with the sheet cake and Connie and Sara were helping her de
corate it with kiwi fruit and berries at the kitchen table. Norma sat with her arms crossed over her belly, making suggestions but not lifting a finger to help.
“There, there—no! Not like that! Oh, that’s better! Que linda! Eso! That’s just how I’d do it!” Norma said. Connie and Sara exchanged glances and rolled their eyes. Norma had a way of talking that was as soft and gooey as a marshmallow but felt like a chancla upside the head. She always believed it was her power of persuasion that got people to see things her way, when in fact it was her just wearing them down.
The men watched the activity mutely, each holding a beer, staring at Celeste, who was sitting quietly in the corner, facing them all. She was wearing the dress Beatriz had bought her, and although the kitchen was warm with all the gathered people, she kept the matching sweater on so she could better hide the price tags. If she was careful, she thought, maybe her aunt Beatriz could return the clothes later.
The women were all smiles, murmuring like kittens as they worked. Beatriz’s brothers, Celeste’s uncles, were standing next to each other, shoulder to shoulder, silent as pillars. Beatriz took up a spot at the end of the lineup and smiled at Celeste. She could see the girl was shocked into silence and didn’t understand why until she turned to look at her brothers, wondering who had stolen the tongues of the ordinarily talkative men. When she faced them, she saw their eyes were glassy, their faces soft as clay. Erasmo was the first to pull out his kerchief, breathing into the wadded cloth to silence a sob he could no longer hold back. He turned away as the other brothers stared down at their beers. Beatriz put her hand on her big brother’s shoulder.
“Goddamn,” Erasmo whispered, as he wiped his swollen eyes. “She looks just like her.”
“I know,” Beatriz said. “But she’s home now! She’s come home to us!”
From where he stood just outside the kitchen, Seamus couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about. Why were the men standing silent as worn horses? Why did his uncle Larry looked so anxious? Why did his aunt Beatriz looked like she was about to burst out laughing or crying—he couldn’t decide which—and why didn’t his brother, Wally, seem as worried as he was? When Wally began loading his plate with potato salad, Seamus caught the fiery look in his uncle Larry’s eye as he crossed over to him, but then his aunt Beatriz was there, too, whispering that it was all right, handing him tongs to dig into the barbecue she’d just unwrapped, releasing the mouthwatering aroma of smoky charred meat. Not one of the men stirred, which Seamus thought was just plain spooky.
“Go on, go on,” Beatriz whispered. “There’s plenty. Go ahead. There’s nothing fancy going on here. It’s just family,” she said, pushing past Larry in a way that was too polite to be rude, too abrupt to be unintentional. Seamus didn’t know what was going on, but he knew it had everything to do with Celeste. Her appearance had changed everything, and he didn’t like it.
“Why don’t you boys go ahead and get your plates and go outside?” Beatriz suggested.
“I don’t want to go out there,” Seamus said. He and the boys had been given those instructions many times before, but this time, the idea of being put out of the house made him angry.
“Do as your aunt says,” Larry said, backing up his wife.
“It’s okay,” Beatriz cooed. “You don’t want to go outside? Go in the living room then. Don’t make a mess. I just cleaned up in there.”
The boys went outside anyway. When Seamus saw that Carlos stayed behind with the adults, he hated that he was sent off like one of the little kids. He decided he needed to take charge of something. Anything. When they got outside, he looked around and insisted they pull out one of the folded tables put away from last night and set it up close to the house.
“Why?” Wally asked, as he sat down to eat on the steps near the patio door. He set his drink cup on the step next to him. Seamus knocked it over with his foot.
“That’s why.”
“Shay!”
“Stop crying, you big baby!” Seamus barked. “I’ll get you another one.” The three boys pulled a table near the house, and Seamus made his brother and his cousin Raúl sit with their backs to the house so he could keep an eye on what was going on in the kitchen through the sliding glass door.
Wally dropped his plate onto the table. “What’s wrong with you?”
“You!” Seamus said. He passed him his drink cup. “Here.”
“She seems fine to me,” Raúl said.
“Who?” Wally said.
“Celeste. Our cousin.”
“Your cousin,” Seamus said.
“What’s your deal?” Raúl asked.
Seamus tore off a hunk of meat from a pork rib and chewed. “Shut up.”
“You shut up. You’re the one who’s freaking out over her.”
Seamus stared down at his food. He didn’t think how he was feeling was so obvious.
“You’re freaking out over her?” Wally asked.
“No one’s talking to you,” Seamus snapped. Then he turned to Raúl. “All I want to know is, where did she come from? Who sent her here? And why did she come here?”
“What, do you think she’s an alien from another planet?” Raúl laughed. “She’s just a girl. She doesn’t look like she’s going to bother anyone.”
“What do you care?” Seamus spat. “You live here. They’re not going to get rid of you.”
“Huh?” Wally said. He stopped gnawing on his corn on the cob to stare wide-eyed at his brother. “Get rid of who?”
“You got corn on your mouth. Wipe your face,” Seamus snapped.
Wally wiped his face with the back of his hand, but only managed to move bits of corn from one side of his mouth to the other. “Get rid of who, Shay?”
“Do it right!” Seamus demanded. He took a napkin and began grinding his brother’s face in it.
“Ow, you buttface! Get off me!”
“Hold still!”
When Seamus heard the sound of the screen door being slid open, he stopped what he was doing. Larry and the other uncles stepped out onto the patio, each one holding a plate heaped with meat in one hand, a beer in the other.
“What’s going on?” Larry asked suspiciously.
“Nothing,” Seamus said, shooting a look at his little brother, who decided to hold his complaint for something bigger.
Larry and the other men walked to the far corner of the yard, pulling up chairs to sit in a circle on the riser. The way they were—stony and silent, alternately looking out into the distance as they chewed, as if gathering their thoughts from the sky and digesting them with their meal—made the boys see that something was being worked out. What that was exactly, the boys didn’t know, but they knew to keep their distance.
As Carlos stepped out onto the patio, he was typing a text message into his phone with his thumb. Then he snapped it closed and went to join the men.
“Come here,” Raúl called to him.
Carlos moved closer to the boys and sighed an annoyed sigh.
“What’s going on?” Raúl asked in a low voice. Seamus noticed that Carlos did not sit down. He set his phone on the table and ate from his plate as he stood over them.
“What’s going on?” Raúl asked again.
“He doesn’t know,” Seamus blurted.
“I know more than you,” Carlos said.
“Why are they acting so weird?” Raúl asked.
“Because…” Carlos thought for a moment. “I guess it’s like someone came back from the dead to them.”
“Like a zombie,” Seamus said.
They all looked at Seamus.
“That girl, she’s like a zombie or a vampire, here to suck your blood or eat your brains,” he said in a spooky voice.
“Shut up!” Wally said, trying not to be scared.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Carlos asked.
“He doesn’t like Celeste,” Raúl said.
“What? Why?” Carlos said. “You haven’t even talked to her.”
“He t
hinks she doesn’t belong here,” Raúl mumbled through a mouthful of barbecue.
“Well, neither do you, but we let you hang around,” Carlos joked, looking at Seamus.
Wally finally got an idea of what his brother was worried about. “You mean she’s going to stay here? Forever?”
“That’s what it looks like,” Carlos answered his little cousin. “Except I think everyone has a different idea of what should happen.”
“Everyone who?” Raúl said.
“Them and them,” Carlos said, nodding first to the aunts and then to the uncles. “I think ’Amá wants her to stay here.”
“Where are we going to stay?” Wally asked.
“At your house,” Carlos said.
“But—” Before Wally could say any more, Seamus kicked his little brother under the table. “Ow!” Wally screamed but quickly quieted down when his brother gave him a bloodcurdling look.
“But what?” Carlos asked, but he didn’t bother waiting for an answer. His cell phone buzzed, rattling so violently it danced across the table and fell off onto the grass. Wally leaned over to pick it up.
“ ‘WELL?’ ” he recited from the text written on the screen. “Well what?” he asked.
Carlos snatched the phone from the little boy. “None of your business, hombrecito.”
Carlos went to join the men when his father called him over, happy to leave the boys behind.
Raúl surveyed the scene around him and tried to make sense of what was going on, what was not being spoken. Seamus and his anxiety toward this new but otherwise harmless-looking girl didn’t make sense to him. Neither did the way the adults weren’t talking about something—some unknown, unspoken thing that hung over them, thick as tar. When he looked into the house, the women were giggling and smiling, each one taking turns sitting next to Celeste, leaning in to listen or talk to her. Beatriz brought out the camera and took pictures, one after the next, while the men sat outside, exchanging few words, quietly eating, and nursing their beers.
Sisters, Strangers, and Starting Over Page 10
