“What I have is experience.” She held the door open for me, helping me wrestle the nearly empty diaper bag and my exhausted baby into the twelve-year-old Monte Carlo at the back of the parking lot. Vi stood next to the car as I fastened Mateo into his car seat and stuffed two thick quilts around him. When I shut the door, Vi frowned.
“What?”
“This car isn’t safe,” she said, shaking her head.
“It’s all I got. You know that.”
“That hole in the floor…” She pointed through the window, grimacing.
I dropped my shoulders, tired from my shift. “My cousin put down a piece of plywood and some epoxy. I just can’t afford anything else right now, especially not if Kip keeps running my shifts.”
“You could ask that piece of shit…”
“No, Vi,” I interrupted, not disguising the clip in my tone. “I couldn’t.” I was always kind to Vi because she’d always been good to me. But I’d never relent on this one. She knew a little bit about why I was raising Mateo on my own—but not everything.
“You’re so stubborn. The man has money.”
The laugh I released held no humor. “He has a habit, and I don’t want Mateo around him.” I rubbed my neck, pulling the edges of my coat together, wishing for the dozenth time I could afford one without missing buttons. “I don’t want my son around a drug addict, no matter if he’s his father or not.”
Vi nodded, her face hardening for a second as she looked back at the diner, like there was something she wanted to say but wouldn’t.
The snow had begun to fall around us and had started to collect on her shoulders, sticking in her thick white hair so I couldn’t make out what was a flurry or a curl.
“You should go,” I told her, squeezing her hand when she looked over my car, likely wondering if there was a single spot of the roof or around the bottom where rust hadn’t begun to eat away at the metal. “We’ll be fine.”
“You have enough gas to get to your aunt’s?”
I didn’t, but if I admitted that, Vi would insist we come home with her or that I let her give me money. There was a faint purple bruise healing under her left eye, put there by the shittiest husband any woman had ever had. I’d rather walk back to the city than risk her getting another one.
“We’ll be fine. I promise.”
She began to argue, and I hurried to hug her, seeming to catch the woman off guard. She froze when I threw my arms around her, but then she relaxed, laughing when I wouldn’t let go until she returned my embrace.
“Hell, Maggie, you’re a good kid.” She patted my back, shaking her head at my car one last time before she walked away.
My eyes hadn’t left the gas gage as I drove away from the diner. I should have called my aunt and explained that I wouldn’t be able to make it to see her for the holiday. There was no sense in risking the snow and my lack of funds on the off chance I might make it. But I’d done it before. Plenty of times. I’d gotten there on less. I convinced myself, at least.
I’m an idiot.
But I ached for my small family. They were all I had left, and I wanted Mateo’s first Christmas to be special. Even if he would never remember it, I still wanted him to have something nice like I did once.
Behind me, those little snores grew louder, and I looked over my shoulder, my heart aching at the roundness of his face and wide arch of his mouth. Why did he have to look so much like Alejandro?
The car was warm, but it wouldn’t be for long. Soon, I’d have to find a phone and call my aunt. I’d have to admit defeat and find someone somewhere who would take pity on us. A glance around this pretty, clean town told me instantly there likely weren’t any shelters. No. That wouldn’t be good anyway.
We could wrap up in those blankets together…
Jesus, please don’t let us freeze.
The thought tore apart the small threads of composure I’d been holding on to all night. The steering wheel was hot from the vent, and I gripped it tightly, keeping my forehead away from it as I let my tears fall, cursing Alejandro for being weak and breaking every promise he made to me. We were supposed to live our biggest dreams—dreams we’d invented when we were college freshmen falling in love, determined nothing would break us apart. But something had.
He had.
His weaknesses.
His excesses.
And I got left alone on Christmas Eve.
