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Baby aside, how’s the beach, baby Reeds?
Mimi
Reading books on the beach is not as romantic as the books make it out to be.
Lotte
Nothing more romantic than sand in your vagina.
Mama
Please don’t send that in the family chat.
Miggy
From experience, it’s not fun for guys either.
Ella
Miguel, you don’t have a romantic bone in your body.
I love that we have a daily chat, but now my thoughts fill with the fact that I’ve been ignoring my moms since we got here. With a sigh, I call Mama. She’ll be more likely to pick up, though she’ll probably use this to gloat to Ma later tonight.
“Sally,” Mama’s voice comes through a little eagerly.
Now I’m imagining her sitting around, waiting for my call, even though I know she wouldn’t do that.
“Are you okay?” she continues.
I shake my head, almost saying no, even though she can’t see me. I open my mouth to talk, but nothing comes out except a barely audible breath.
“Honey—”
“I’m sorry it’s taken so long to call you guys,” I say. “I know you and Ma must be pretty mad about it.”
“Sally.” I can hear her frown through the line. “We aren’t mad at you at all. We get that this is a lot. Ma and I just wish we could get off work to help you with everything.”
“I know, Mama.”
“It’s Sally,” Mama says away from the phone, which means Ma must be home. I doubt it was any of my siblings. “You’re on speaker, honey.”
“Hey, sweetie,” Ma’s thick voice comes through the line. “How’s the house?”
I let out a shaky breath, trying my best not to think about what I’m supposed to be doing here. “It’s okay.”
“If you need us there, I’ll take off as much work as you need,” she says without hesitation. She can’t do it because the fire station needs her there, but I also know if I really needed them here, she would be here yesterday.
We made a deal not to tell them about what happened with Leon because then they would really be here to kill some twenty-year-old assholes.
“I just don’t know what to do,” I admit.
“Richie might be able to help with selling the house,” Mama says with a slight wariness in her voice. “Have you thought more about what you want to do with it?”
My mind goes back to the letters that Christina wrote to me and the fact that my moms apparently had contact with her, even if just little updates.
“Moms?”
“Yes, sweetie,” Ma comes through.
