“Give me your address,” I demand, because not only are we going shopping, I’m also sending Gabi something nice as soon as Carter gives me my cut. If he can’t get it to me in time, all I’ll have to do is describe this purse to Amá andshe’llgive me the money. The idea that this zombie of a handbag exists in Cranberry will be insulting enough for her to cover a Fendi Sunshine Medium Shopper in a tan color, which, looking at Gabi’s style, would suit her really well.
After Gabi and I kiss goodbye, I keep the door open as I peek out, looking for Carter. Seems like they’re doing the thing that all Latines do, which is hover around their cars for an hour-long farewell that probably will continue once folks starting actually getting in their cars, too.
I’m in the middle of a relieved sigh when a tiny, veiny, pearl-ring-covered hand reaches around me to slam the door shut. It startles me for only a second, but then I put on my game face when I turn around.
Because of course, it’s Abuela Erika.
20
You’d think being confronted bya nasty old brat like Erika at close range like this would rattle me more, but I’ve had plenty of experience from Sonya, who enjoys startling us with intimidation tactics like it’s some kind of Latine female elder Olympic sport.
“Yes?” I ask, crossing my arms.
She begins to tell me off in Spanish. Based on her facial expressions, and the way she’s waving her arms like an octopus, I’m sure she’s calling me all kinds of colorful phrases. But I barely understand my family’s Mexican American Spanglish, so this is not having the effect she wants. At a certain point, she stops and narrows her eyes. “You don’t even know Spanish?” she hisses at me. “All you know is English?”
“Is the language of one colonizer really better than another’s?” I ask.
She ignores me. “Fine. En Inglés, since you’re so much better than me.” See? What on earth can I say to that nonsense? But she goes on, so I don’t need to say a damn thing after all. “I don’tknow who you think you are, threatening me like that in front ofmywhole family.”
My conscience—the Teal I want to be—sprouts up inside me like a hopeful little seedling. I know I can make this better. It’s going to be painful but I need to do this for me. “I know.” I sigh. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have threatened you.”
All the wind is taken out of her sails. She wasn’t expecting that, I’ll tell you what. But then she scowls as she brushes my apology off, taking one deep breath to keep on putting me in my place. “All you Flores women are the same. Just because you’re witches doesn’t mean that you can make everyone do your bidding. I won’t stand for it.”
Well, now I blink. Does she mean witches like a regular derogatory name for women, or does she mean it like…she knows all about our gifts? “What are you talking about,witches?”
“You know what I mean, just like Nadia always knew what I meant.”
“Nadia?” What on earth is happening here? “My tía Nadia? What’s she got to do with this?”
Erika, once again, ignores my question. “Your family’s specialty is putting men in a…how do you say it? A…” She snaps her fingers. “Hipnosis.”
“Hypnosis?” I ask.
“So you do know Spanish.” She narrows her eyes at me.
“It’s almost the same word.”
She rolls her eyes. “I just wanted to tell you that Carter is too smart for your ways. Right now, I am going to go out there and I am going to weep on his shoulder. And when he comes inside, he will punish you for the ill you have done to me. And that’s how you know he will always choose me over you.” She raises her head. “Just like how Eugenio chose me over Nadia.”
“What?” I gasp. “Abuelo Gene andNadia?” What kind of television novela did I just step into here?
“You are broken, just like her. Just like your mother, and your sisters. Broken,” she spits as she swings the door open and stomps out.
Of all the things she said, I really wish she hadn’t ended it onbroken. The word echoes inside me like I contain a murmuration of starlings made of chipped glass. It’s the only word I know for sure is true. Iambroken. I’m trying to fix it, but there’s no telling if that’s even possible.
As though to prove my point, lightning flashes way too close, followed by thunder so loud, it feels like it’s right on my skin like the attack of a wild beast.
Carter barges in just asI begin wiping down the dining table.
“Seriously?” he says, his voice harsh, like shrapnel sliding over gravel. “I asked you to keep the peace with my family, and you pull passive-aggression all meal, and end it with threatening to keep her great-grandkids away from her?”
I don’t have the energy for this. “Yes, Carter. I’m a bitch and a horrible person and Erika is the innocent victim of my asshole ways. You have never painted a more accurate picture.”
He crosses his arms and his jaw gets tight. “This wasn’t the deal. You were supposed to be neutral, if not pleasant, so that she’d believe we were together. A wife needs to act a certain way, you know?”
Well, he went there. So now I have to go there, too. “Well, Carter,” I say, throwing the sponge down. “A husband needs to act a certain way when it comes to his wife. And that doesn’tinclude smiling when his grandmother bullies his wife. So it’s a good thing what we have is a fake marriage and that you are afakehusband.”
He puts a hand on his head and sighs deeply. “I told you that we would have a few growing pains to get through. All you had to do—”
