Page 93 of Animal Beats

I don’t want to get into difficult territory, so I don’t ask her about her meltdown the last time I visited. We veer off into different conversations, first about her group of friends, then about the weather, then about what she’s having for dinner. Mila’s so happy. I need to figure out how to keep paying her bills in order to make sure she stays this way.

“How is Mr. River?”

I shove a pang of longing far down. “He’s doing good. Right now, he’s about to take the stage in Dublin, Ireland.”

Brown eyes bounce outside and she raises her shirt to her neck. “It’s light. I thought concerts were given in the dark, when it’s nighttime.”

I pull her shirt down. “It is night in Ireland, where he is.”

“Oh.”

“I think you learned something about time changes last month. If someone is in a faraway place—like Ireland—the time difference between here and there is five hours. Remember?”

She cocks her head. “Yes. I remember learning about that. So it’s”—she counts to five on her fingers—“eight o’clock there now because it’s three here?”

I clap. “Excellent! Yes, you’re one-hundred percent right!”

She jumps and claps. If only the world’s problems could be solved so simply.

“You know what else, Mila? Mr. River added in a triangle in his drumming with the band.”

Her big eyes get wide. “He did?”

“Yes, he did. See?” I pull up a clip of Río hitting the triangle during “Crushing Blow.”

Her hands go up in the air. “Wow. He did that because of me?”

“Exactly.” Mirroring Río, I bop her on the nose. “Because you mean so much to him.”

She does a little jig. “I’m going to tell everyone about this! How cool!”

I let her have her moment, all thanks to Río. Who knew the wild, entitled drummer had such a gooey center? In a weird way, he owes everything he is to his father, since he never would’ve picked up drumsticks but for his lack of attention. Still doesn’t make up for how he treated his son.

“And guess what? Mr. River gave me presents for you.”

Her eyes widen. “Presents?” She hops up and down. “Show me! Show me!”

I pull the fan out of my purse. “He got this for you in Madrid. It’s a fan. Let me show you how it works.” I wave the black-and-red fan in front of her face, the breeze causing her eyes to close and mouth to tip into a wide smile.

“He also bought this for you. It’s a new phone.” Holding up the cell, I show her the basics of how to use this one, and extend my palm.

“This is amazing!” She lifts the phone to eye level. “I can call you and Mr. River whenever I want?”

“You can call us, yes. If we’re involved in something, like Mr. River’s playing a concert right now, we won’t be able to pick up. Do you understand?”

Solemnly, she nods. “When can I thank Mr. River in person for my amazing gifts?”

That’s a thousand-dollar question. I choose the truth. “We’re working on when he can come and visit. In the meantime, how about we leave him a voicemail thank you?” Together, we call Río and she thanks him—over and over—in her message.

The loudspeaker announces dinner will be served in ten minutes.

My sister drops her phone onto her desk and smooths her clothes. “I’m going to eat,” she declares.

“You do that, Mila. Can I have a hug first? I’ll be gone when you get back.”

“Yes!” She throws herself at my body, giving me a tight hug.

I soak up all her goodness, then guide her toward the door. “Enjoy!”