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“You weren’t supposed to be here until six. We aren’t ready.”
“I came to help dad. Ramiro, you really don’t need to be here helping him. That’s what I’m here for.”
His face fell for only one second before he shook it off. “You know better. You get treated like a queen on your birthday.”
“You two spoil me almost every day, not just my birthday. How can I help?”
“You can tie the tablecloths down, so they don’t blow away. That would be great.”
With the three of us, everything was ready by four in the afternoon, and all that was left was to fire up the grill when guests arrived. Ramiro left to get a bit of rest and change clothes. I went to my old room and took a quick shower.
I hadn’t thought to bring clothes, of course, so I had to settle for whatever old items I had in my closet. Luckily, one of my favorite deep green dresses was there. I wore this dress on very rare occasions, but I loved the square neckline that showed off my collarbones without too much cleavage. I had more than plenty in that department, so I didn’t need to be highlighting it more than necessary. The deep emerald looked beautiful on my dark, caramel-honey skin. It was also the perfect outfit for the hot, Kansan summer day.
Because it was so hot outside, I knew something was up when I laid eyes on Sara dressed in an outfit more suitable for fall. She walked in wearing a thin, long-sleeved blouse and didn’t remove her sunglasses even when she was indoors. Not this shit again. I was going to kill him. Oath or not, I was going to kill him. I took a deep breath before leading her upstairs to my room—I couldn’t take more control away from her.
Leading her to sit on my bed, I sat on the chair in front of her.
“Honey—” That’s all it took. One word, and she broke into a sob.
“I’m sorry, Caro. I don’t want to ruin your party, but I also couldn’t miss it. I promised your dad . . .” She trailed off into her sobs and wiped at the tears on her cheeks.
“Oh, sweetie.” I brushed her hair back. “You aren’t ruining anything. You know I hate these things anyway.” I smiled, and she laughed weakly. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
Sara squared her shoulders and took her shades off. She’d done an expert job with the makeup, covering the blue and green bruises I knew were under that thin layer of pigment, but I couldn’t be fooled because the swelling was clearly there. My fists clenched at my sides, and I couldn’t help but bite the inside of my lip.
“Don’t say it,” Sara said. “I know he is slime. I know. I’m leaving him, okay?”
I’d heard this before, and there was not a shred of conviction in her voice, just like the last time. I wanted to shake her so badly, but just like the last time, I restrained myself. Even though it broke my heart, I couldn’t help her out of this until she decided she was ready. So much power is taken from a domestic abuse victim, I couldn’t bear to force her into anything she didn’t want, even if it did everything short of killing me to hold my anger in check.
“When you’re ready, I’m here for you.Weare here for you;Papi, Ramiro, Sofia, and me. We got you. You got it?”
“I know.”
“Why don’t you stay up here and sleep it off? I’ll tell Dad you’re sick and resting here, and later I’ll sneak you a plate of food.”
Sara smiled up at me as I stood. “Did you make the salsa?” she asked.
“Yes. I made the salsa.”
“Themolcajetesalsa—your mom’s recipe?”
“Yes, with the secret ingredient.”
“Bring extra?” she said as she curled into a ball under the blankets.
It was hard to get into the partying mood after that, but as tough as it was, we moved on. It was horrid to think it, but as often as that bastard Brian had beaten her up, Sofia and I had started getting used to it. And wasn’t that just the shittiest bit of it all? We were the only two who knew because we were the only people in the world she couldn’t hide her bruises from. We were too analytical.
Dad was happy, and we both knew this party was more for him. He’d invited all the neighbors—Ramiro’s parents weren’t present because they were vacationing in Florida—all of the mechanics from the garage, among whom were Ramiro’s best friends, and Sara, but I kept her tucked away in her tower—my room.
The music came to a stop at six-thirty when we thought everyone had arrived. Dad said a few words, in Spanglish, of course.
“I want to thank you all for being here today to celebrate myhijita.It is a special day for me. She turns twenty-six today, and I’m the proudest dad in the world.” As he spoke, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dr. Medina enter our backyard. He carried a box wrapped in navy blue paper, finished with an orange bow. I smiled at him, and he waved back before placing the box carefully on the gift table.
Dad continued, and I returned my attention to him. “Mija,you are smart, strong, and beautiful. I don’t know what I did in my past life to deserve a daughter like you, but I’m glad I did it.”
“Don Gustavo.” Ramiro jumped in, beer in his hand. “Mind if I say a few words too?”
I panicked. Oh, god, no.Please, Papi, don’t let him.
