Page 4

Sofía, the single mom

Javi and I arrive right on time, yet somehow we’re late. Along the sidewalk by the water, the parents stand near a large pile of backpacks and coolers, wearing the blue jackets Cassie had custom made for everyone, like a uniform. There are other campers waiting for the boat, too, who had the bad luck of picking the same weekend as the Chester School for their camping trip. Or maybe it’s good fortune. People tend to get excited when they see Raymond Zhao. I know if Juan and I were going for a romantic getaway, I wouldn’t want it to be with a school group. Not that Juan and I would choose camping. Or go on a romantic getaway. He’s never even spent the night.

“¿Estás loca?” Juan said when I told him that me and Javi were going to spend the weekend on the Channel Islands with families from Javi’s grade. “Have you even been camping before?”

“Cuando lo hagas, me avisas,” I shot back.

“Well, I wouldn’t start with a deserted island.” His smugness made me want to pinch the soft flesh of his belly.

“You worry too much,” I told him.

Juan is probably the most levelheaded man I’ve ever met. Certainly the most I’ve ever dated. We met just before Javi started kindergarten at the Chester School. Juan’s sister had an emergency C-section and was on my ward long enough that I got to know her. She and Juan are from Df, and while it’s hard to believe in LA, I’m the only Mexicana on the labor and delivery floor. We bonded quickly, even though I’ve never been to Mexico. Even though it’s as far away to me as China is.

“You’d be perfect for my brother,” his sister said every time I checked her pain level or helped her newborn latch. I brushed her off, like I always do. New mothers often want to set me up. Between the crazy hours I work, my mom, and Javi, I didn’t have time to date. I still don’t, but his sister was right. Juan is perfect for me. Which is probably why I keep him at a distance.

He’s also right about this trip. It is crazy. Sumamente loco. A deserted island, twenty miles off the coast of California, with no electricity or roofs over our heads. What if we get stuck there? What if the drinking water stops working? What if we run out of food? Judging from the size of the cooler pile, that won’t be an issue. Just in case, I’ve packed two liters of water, energy bars, electrolyte powders, and my first aid kit. While half the parents are doctors, I know more about emergency medicine than the dermatologists and neurosurgeons combined. Plus, they’d spend so much time arguing over who gets to be the hero that the poor kid with a surface laceration would bleed out before they stitched him up.

How did Cassie talk me into this trip?

Cassie simply said, “Mark your calendar for the first weekend in June. We’re going to the Channel Islands.” I didn’t know what the Channel Islands were. I had to look them up. And when I did, I assumed she meant Catalina, at a five-star hotel I couldn’t afford. Since it wasn’t an official school trip, Javi’s scholarship wouldn’t pay for it. Cassie laughed when I mentioned this to her. “I may need to check into a five-star hotel after this weekend.” She explained that we were headed to Santa Cruz Island, where there was nothing but a few hundred campsites and latrine bathrooms. Then I was like, no way am I going to an island in the middle of the ocean with snakes and mice and other critters I’ve never heard of. Once Cassie decided it was happening, though, there was never a world where Javi and I weren’t going too.

I pull into a parking spot, take a deep breath, and remind myself that I’m doing this for my son. For weeks, he and Ita have been researching the foxes on the island, the birds, the history of the Native Americans forced off their land. This weekend is his everything. And he’s my everything. So I will bite my tongue for three days around the other parents and watch their kids like a hawk for anything cruel they might say to my son.

I’m being judgy. I can’t help it. The parents are exhausting. These moms don’t like those moms. This one served peanut butter at a party when she knows that this kid is allergic. That one called the principal about her daughter being excluded at lunch. Then there was the whole fiasco with the sneakers in art class. I don’t have time for any of their nonsense. Cassie doesn’t either. Which is why we’re friends.

We hit it off right away, as unexpected as that may be. Cassie Bent, quite possibly the richest parent of the bunch, and me, the labor and delivery nurse with a full scholarship for my son. When Juan had asked me about sending my son to a hoity-toity school, I was dismissive. The priority is Javi’s education. He’s a smart kid. He deserves to go to the kind of school that will help him reach his full potential. And kids are kids, rich or poor. Plus, they wear uniforms. Surely, it wouldn’t be so obvious who was and was not hoity-toity.

It goes without saying how wrong I was. It’s obvious in the drop-off line. The school lunches. The backpacks. The shoes the kids wear. The birthday parties. Dios mío, the birthday parties.

Cassie isn’t like that. Sure, she did have a pony at Lily’s birthday party, and yes, she does drive a Rivian. What sets Cassie apart is that she realizes that none of it is normal. Her success. Her world. Her luck. She acknowledges it. The other parents don’t talk about money. It’s as natural to them as breathing.

Now, I’m starting to realize that even if Cassie wasn’t trying to keep up with the Joneses—or in her case, the Berg-Zhaos—Lily is trying to compete with the spa parties and the private tours of Disneyland. Even if Cassie can see through their parents, Lily idolizes Mona’s daughter Sawyer and the other mean girls. It’s alarming how early it starts. It’s infuriating that those pendejadas were aimed at my son.

As soon as I let him out of the back seat, Javi heads straight to Lei and his dad, Charles, who bends down to show Kai something in the water.

“Mamí,” my sweet boy shouts when he follows the line of Charles’s finger out into the water. “A seal.”

The joy on his face is enough to make this trip worth it.

Cassie stands beside the pile of gear, talking to Raymond. I haven’t seen her since my mom told me what had happened with Javi and Lily. I assumed she’d gotten the name wrong. Javi and Lily have been friends since kindergarten. As they’ve gotten older, they’ve gravitated toward their own sex. When we get together, though, they’re as close as ever.

Cassie turns when she sees Javi call to me, flashes me her warm smile, and taps Dave, who, without being asked, jogs over to help me carry our gear to the pile. Our equipment is noticeably brand new. The week after Cassie told me to mark my calendar, the packages started to arrive. A tent for two. Sleeping bags and pads. Hiking boots from Bent Outdoors made from vegan leather, something I didn’t know existed before I met Cassie. LED lanterns. I looked up the North Face tent. It was over five hundred dollars. I called her and said, “Cass, I can’t accept this.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she tried to lie. Before I could let her down easy, she added, “Promise me you’ll come. I don’t think I can endure a whole weekend of them without you by my side.” Us and them. That’s how it is with Cassie. We are an us. An unexpected but constant us.

“You ready for all this?” Dave asks, leaning over to kiss my cheek before grabbing our backpacks.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I say.

The mothers call Dave arm candy. While he is incredibly handsome, there’s something about him that I don’t quite trust. He’s always warm and generous, like today with my bags. There are ten other fathers by the water, yet he’s the only one who came over to help me with our stuff. But Cassie always walks on eggshells around him, even though she’s the one with a successful company and he, as far as I can tell, is always working on some big international deal that doesn’t develop into anything. Although she never speaks negatively about Dave, I can feel how she’s hesitant around him, a sign of how difficult it is to be a successful woman in our society. You still have to stroke a man’s ego. That’s part of why I plan on never getting married. Again.

I follow Dave toward the walkway. He puts our backpacks on the scale, and Stella marks down the weight. Poor Stella. I don’t know how she got roped into chaperoning this trip.

Stella hands me two green laminated cards, our tickets for the ferry, and says, “That’s everyone.” While I know Stella’s not trying to make me feel bad for being the last ones here, her comment stings. I can never get things right with this group.

I make my way to the end of the long line of passengers snaking the sidewalk. Javi is still standing along the railing with Charles and Lei, giggling each time the seal darts its head above the water. Occasionally, he glances over to make sure I’m watching. I’m glad he’s happy. When I asked him about what happened with Lily, he refused to confirm what my mother had said. “Just forget it,” he cautioned. That’s how I knew it was all true.

While the morning is still cool, the sun is already strong. There’s a large mass of land in the distance. The Channel Islands, I assume. They look far away. Too far. It fills me with dread, how isolated they are.

One of the crewmembers removes the rope that blocks off the metal ramp down to the dock. The line begins to move, and I signal Javi over. He joins me, and we make our way to the dock below. For the moment it feels like it will all be okay, fun even. Then I remember the conversation I need to have with Cassie.

This weekend, I will talk to Cassie about the terrible things her daughter said to my son. Because Cassie is my friend, and I know she’ll want to fix this.