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“Sabelotodo,” José says in way of a greeting. Smart ass.
“Pendejo.” Asshole.
He chuckles and gives me a one-armed hug that he tries to turn into a headlock but I elbow him in the gut and he laughs as he walks away. I follow him to the living room and plop myself down on the couch beside him.
“I’m making rice and beans, do you want me to serve you when it’s ready?” my mother calls from the kitchen.
“Mom, it’s like,” I check my watch, “ten o’clock in the morning.” She stands there waiting for an answer, like it’s not a strange thing at all to have rice and beans before noon. But in her defense, in our family it’s not a strange thing. I sigh, “Yeah I’ll have some.”
She turns to go back into the kitchen and José says, “What about me?”
“I don’t have to ask you, Sé. I know you want a plate,” she calls without looking back.
I laugh and he punches my arm lightly. He turns the TV on to some kind of sports highlights channel and I groan. He ignores me.
We’re quiet for a moment, mindlessly watching TV before he asks, “How are you?” All joking and teasing is gone from his tone. My brother may be the biggest pain in the ass and we bicker like our lives depend on it, but he can also be the greatest friend. He knows when to joke and he also knows when to put it away.
I turn my body to face him and look at him. His face grows concerned at my lack of a response but change in body language. “What’s wrong?” he asks seriously.
“I think I may be talking to someone,” I say quietly, making sure our parents don't overhear in any way.
“Like a guy kind of someone?” he whispers, surprised. I nod. His mouth parts quickly before he recovers his expression. “Tell me.”
I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “He’s a friend of Madeline and Elliot’s. He works at the middle school with Maddie.”
“Okay,” he says, drawing out the word. “What is he like? What’s his name?”
“His name is David. He’s…so kind,” I say, feeling a bit of emotion building up in my chest. “He’s so kind and gentle. We met months ago and we were just…friendly. Didn’t interact much. But I don’t even know when it happened, but we started to talk more and more.”
“Ana,” he says sincerely, “I’m so happy for you.” His voice is almost breaking with emotion.
“I felt so guilty at first, Sé,” I admit, my chest caving. “I was sick with guilt and anxiety. I still sometimes feel like I’m betraying him,” I whisper.
He shakes his head, “This is easier to say than to believe for yourself, but you know that’s not what he would be thinking.”
I nod, my eyes getting watery. “I know, I know.” I sigh, “But it still hurts so bad.”
He grabs my hand to squeeze. “I hate to say it, but it will probably always hurt a little bit.” I nod, knowing he’s right. “But the hurt shouldn’t keep you from finding happiness again.”
I groan. “I know. That’s what everyone says.”
“Maybe you should stop being so stubborn and listen to others for once in your life,” he says, and I glare at him, removing my hand from his to punch him in his shoulder. “But honestly, you need to let yourself be happy again, Ana. He would want that, so badly. Seeing you like this would break his heart.”
Be happy.
I lean my head back against the couch, sighing once more. “I know,” I whisper. “I know.”
At that moment my mother comes walking into the living room holding two plates of food, each with enough to feed at least four people. “Here mi cariños, eat.”
FORTY-FOUR
THEN, FALL, TWO YEARS AGO
We’ve been seniors in college for only about two months. I just heard back from a marketing firm in North Jersey; it’s the first place that’s accepted me as a marketing intern, and while it’s not my first choice, I’m still excited.
“Hayden,” I yell as I open the door to the apartment. He’s at the table working on some assignments but looks up with wide eyes as I come in. “I got an offer from Valley Marketing,” I tell him, smiling so big it hurts my face.
“Baby!” He smiles and stands up, arms opening wide. “That’s amazing, I’m so proud of you.”
