Page 48 of A Bookish Story

I think of true love like my parents had once. He was the love of her life until he was taken away. I need more of that emotion to drive me.

And then I write with my heart cracked and bleeding all over the pages.

CHAPTER 17

On Sunday morning, I wake clutching my laptop, still in the clothes I wore yesterday. I haven’t pulled an all-nighter like this since I was a teenager. I’ve been writing all weekend and it feels so freeing.

Panicked, I make sure everything I wrote last night was saved. Only when I’m certain every word is right where I left it, I hook up my laptop to charge and make my way to the main house for coffee and a shower.

Abuelita will already be at mass with her friends. Sometimes Eddie takes her, sometimes he does not. But either way, he’s never sacked out on the couch the way I find him now. I wonder now how long this has been going on.

“Why are you sleeping on the couch?” I ask him.

He rolls over and yawns. “I let your mami take my room. It just makes sense.”

I sigh. Of course it would make sense to Eddie. He couldn’t abide having a woman sleep on a sofa when there was a perfectly good bed available.

“I’m not here all that much,” he protests.

“But having a bed to sleep in is the main reason you live here.”

He waves it away. “She needs a bed more than I do.”

“You have a bad back!”

“This couch is actually comfortable,” he says but when he winces, I know he’s lying.

“Riiight.”

I wish my entire family wouldn’t cater to my mother but I remind myself they’re doing it for me. Because she’s connected to me, and more importantly my father, and that’s all it takes in the Santana home.

As usual, Abuelita has left café for us. She makes strong coffee, the closest thing to an espresso I’m going to have this morning and I need every milligram of caffeine in my bloodstream. I rattle around in the cupboard searching for my “best granddaughter in the world” cup but am forced to settle for an “I’d rather be watching a telenovela” mug.

A fully dressed Eddie joins me in the kitchen and I hand him the carafe. He looks like he needs the caffeine more than I do. While he pours his coffee, he gives me a look I’ve come to realize means he’s about to give me a lecture.

I hold up my hand. “I was up late writing. That’s why I look like this.”

This means he should not bother me with anything trivial or nag me about my appearance. Sometimes Eddie can be just as bad as my mother with the exception that he’s never mentioned my weight. But he’s of the somewhat old-school opinion that a single lady should be ready to meet her possible Mr. Right at all times. Even in her own damn house. Obviously, I disagree.

He looks confused and shakes his head. “I want to talk to you about your mami.”

“Oh, that.” A lecture about my mother is not going to be much better, I fear.

“Mija, she is your mother, so try to be nice.”

“I am nice! But it’s not okay that she just shows up here like she has no other place to be. She’s taking advantage of our hospitality.”

“Did you ever stop to think she has nowhere else to go?” He narrows his eyes.

“How is that possible? She divorced Seb and if I know my mother she got a settlement. Besides, there’s all the money she made in all her years of acting. Look at the way she dresses! Does she look penniless?”

“Neither one of us knows the whole story. Just be patient with her. You love your mother, and you can’t pretend you don’t.”

“She’s never been supportive. I don’t know if she deserves my forgiveness.”

“No one actually deserves forgiveness, but we give it anyway.” Eddie lowers his head and gives me his saintly look possibly because it’s Sunday. “That’s who we are.”

It’s pointless to argue and I hold out my palms. “Fine, sure. I’ll try to be better.”