“Oooh,” Louie cooed, forever an instigator.
“Shut up, Lou,” Josh snapped.
“No, thank you.”
“Oh my God, both of you be quiet,” I joked. “Let’s play the quiet game.”
“Let’s not,” Josh replied. “Have you found me a new Select team?”
Damn it. I slid a look to the side window, suddenly feeling guilty that I still hadn’t even started looking for a new baseball team for him. Once upon a time, I would have lied to him and said that I had but that wasn’t the kind of relationship I wanted to have with the boys. So I told him the truth. “No, but I will.”
I didn’t have to turn around to sense the accusation in his gaze, but he didn’t make me feel bad over it. “Okay.”
None of us said anything else as I pulled up to the curb at the school and put the car into park. Both boys sat there, looking at me expectantly, making me feel like a shepherd to my sheep.
A shepherd who didn’t always know the right direction to go.
I could only try my best and hope it was good enough. Then again, wasn’t that the story to everyone’s lives? “Everything is going to be okay. I promise.”
* * *
“Miss Lopez!”
I shut the car door with my hip later that day, with what felt like fifty pounds of grocery bags hanging off my wrists. Louie was already at the front door of our house, the two smallest bags from our shopping trip in each of his hands. While I usually tried to avoid taking them to the grocery store, the trip had been inevitable. The salon wasn’t scheduled to open until the next day, and I was partially thankful that I’d been able to pick them up their first day of school. Considering that even Louie hadn’t looked like school had been everything he might have hoped it would be, grocery shopping had gone well; I’d only had to threaten the boys twice. Josh paused halfway to his brother with full hands too, a frown growing on his face as he looked around.
“Miss Lopez!” the frail voice called out again, barely heard, from somewhere close but not that close. I didn’t think anything of it as I stepped toward them, watching as Josh’s gaze narrowed in on something behind me.
“I think she’s talking to you,” he suggested, his eyes staying locked on whatever it was he was looking at.
Me? Miss Lopez? It was my turn to frown. I glanced over my shoulder to find why he would assume that. The instant I spotted the faded pink housedress at the edge of the porch of the pretty yellow house across the street, I forced myself to suppress a groan.
Was the old woman calling me Miss Lopez?
She waved a frail hand, confirming my worst guess.
She was. She really, really was.
“Who’s Miss Lopez?” Louie asked.
I blew a raspberry, torn between being irritated at being called just about the most Latino last name possible and wanting to be a good neighbor, even though I had no clue what she could possibly wanted. “I guess I am, buddy,” I said, lifting up the hand that had the least amount of groceries on it and waving at the old woman.
She gestured with that bone-thin hand to come over.
The problem with trying to teach two small humans how to be a good person was that you had to set a good example for them. All. The. Time. They ate everything up. Learned every word and body language that you taught them. I’d learned the hard way over the years just how sponge-like their minds were. When Josh was a baby, he’d picked up on “shit” like a duck to water; he’d used itall the timefor any reason. He’d knock over a toy: “Shit.” He’d trip: “Shit.” Rodrigo and I had thought it was hilarious. Everyone else? Not so much.
So, trying to teach them good manners required me to rise above the instincts to want to groan when something frustrated or annoyed me. Instead, I winked at the boys before looking back at our new neighbor and yelling, “One minute!”
She waved her hand in response.
“Come on, guys, lets put up the groceries and go see what the”—I almost saidold ladyand just barely caught the words before they came out—“neighbor needs.”
Louie shrugged with that signature bright smile on his face and Josh groaned. “Do I have to?”
I nudged him with my elbow as I walked by him. “Yes.”
Out of the corner of my eye, his head lolled back. “I can’t wait? I won’t open the door for anybody.”
He was already starting with not wanting to go places with me. It made my heart hurt. But I told him over my shoulder, even as I unlock the door, “Nope.” Once I got him started on staying home alone, there would be no going back. I knew it, and I was going to cling to him being a little boy as long as possible, damn it.
