I exhale a harsh breath. So why does it feel like my stomach is trying to escape through my feet right now?
If he wants to avoid me, there isn’t anything I can do about it. It just royally sucks to know that he does.
Me: Okay. See you at school.
I hit the send button,refusing to let on how much this bothers me. Doubt creeps in and I wonder if this is going to be a recurring thing? Get mad at Bibi and suddenly become unavailable?
Three little dots appear on the screen and I wait for him to respond, but after a few seconds, the dots that signal he’s typing fade and no new messages arrive. I sigh. Whatever. Boys are dumb anyway.
SIXTY-SIX
Emilio
It’s been three days since I found out Raul died, and life has been an absolute shitstorm. I didn’t even make it to practice the last two days, and I barely see Luis. I mean, I see him at school since Bibiana brings him but getting my kid for all of thirty minutes during lunch and then sharing him during fourth period isn’t enough. This isn’t going to work for me.
I remind myself that it’s temporary. As soon as we figure shit out and make sure Sofia doesn’t go into the system, I can spend more time with Luis. With my girl. Bibiana has been acting strange. Reserved even. It’s like she’s folding herself back into a shell and I’m not sure what to think about it. I want to let her know what’s going on, but what if she freaks out? I won’t risk her keeping Luis from me. I’d like to think we’re past that. That she’d never keep him from me, but I can’t shake the feeling that she might. I mean, what mother wouldn’t be worried with social services sniffing around, right?
“Thank you, boys. I believe that’s everything I need for now.” The social worker—a Miss Patricia Morgen—says, getting to her feet. She holds a legal pad in one hand, the first few pages littered in notes. About what, who the fuck knows. She’s been here twice now in three days, and I won’t be surprised if I see her again.
It’s clear she has decided she doesn’t like our situation. She keeps making statements about how important it is to for a young girl to grow up with a mother. And yeah, I’m sure it is. But we don’t have one around, and it’s more important for Sofia to stay with her family than to be carted off to live with a bunch of strangers. Mother or not, she needs us too.
The possibility of that happening is getting to my baby sister and it shows. Not in a good way either. She’s pale and acting skittish. She inches back every time this Morgen lady asks her a question, as if she is trying to sink into the furniture, and she flicks her eyes toward me and Antonio before she answers. It makes her look guilty as hell. If I were Patricia Morgen, I would be concerned too. But she doesn’t know us. Dropping in on people and putting the fear of God in them in your first meeting isn’t a great way to make someone comfortable.
Antonio jumps to his feet to walk her out and I stay on the couch, pulling Sofia into a hug. God knows she needs it. Her tiny body shudders against mine and I tuck her head beneath my chin. “She’s going to take me away, isn’t she?” she whispers, tears lodged in her throat.
“Nope. This is all just protocol, baby sis. No one is taking you anywhere.” My voice is firm, but inside I’m reeling. They could take her from us and there isn’t a damn thing we could do about it.
A few hours pass and the mood in the house is decidedly grim. Sofia’s retreated to her room to read herMeet Josefinabook—they really need to come up with a Honduran girl for that shit—and Antonio are I are sitting in the garage. He’s drinking a Modelo while we both stare out across the street, lost in our separate trains of thought.
A car I don’t recognize rolls up and I lean forward in my seat. The passenger door opens, and a man steps out. Dressed in combat greens, my brother turns to face us, a military duffle slung over one shoulder. The driver takes off as Roberto stands there, waiting to see his reception.
Antonio is the first to stand up. He meets our brother halfway across the drive and the two embrace. Roberto has filled out since I last saw him. He’s both taller and broader, damn near engulfing Antonio in his arms.
They separate and walk together to the garage, Roberto stopping a few paces in front of me, a quirk in his brow. “Long time,hermanito.” Little brother.
I nod and push to my feet. “Four years,” I remind him. Four years with damn near zero contact, I might add. But I don’t bother saying that out loud. He already knows how long he’s been away.
Roberto ducks his head and releases a harsh breath. “I’m back now.”
Obviously. He’s standing in front of me. But the question is, for how long?
He flicks his gaze to the side, his jaw stiff before returning his hard hazel stare back to mine.
“Cut him some slack,” Antonio asks.
Before I can respond Roberto adds, “I’m out now.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
He’s standing stiff, shoulders squared, and feet almost perfectly spaced. “It means I was eligible to re-enlist when Antonio called. He told me about your kid.” A smile splits his face, one of the few genuine smiles I’ve ever seen on my brother’s face. “I decided not to. Even before I knew about Raul.” He hesitates, his voice dropping low. “I know I left you. Left like mom. I don’t blame you for being pissed off with me. I should have called. Or written.” He huffs out a breath. “Look. I’m sorry. But—I’m here now. I want to be here. For Sofia. For you. I want to put our family back together the way it should be.”
I work my jaw and give him a stiff nod. “Okay.”
“Okay?” he questions, as if he doesn’t believe me. I hold my hand out and he clasps it.
“Yeah, man. Okay.” I gave up my grudge years ago. He did what he needed to, and I can’t say I wouldn’t have made the same decision in his place. Okay. Lie. I know I wouldn’t have, but still. This, I can let go. For family. For blood.
SIXTY-SEVEN
