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“Uncle Kent,” she screamed as she launched herself into his arms. “When did you get here?”
“About twenty minutes ago.” He set her down and introduced her to Palmer. Again, as his girlfriend. Julia peppered Kent with questions until Raúl told her to scram.
Kent helped Palmer sit down and sat next to her. He kept one hand on her until Martina came through the back door with a platter of food. “We ordered two of everything,” Kent said to Palmer so only she could hear him. “This way you can try whatever you want, and if you want more, I’ll get it for you.”
“Why did you tell them I was your girlfriend?”
Because I wish you were. “Why not? It’s better to tell them than for them to ask. They’re going to see us together for a couple of days, holding hands and sleeping in the same bed. Besides, Raúl’s mom senses things. So, she knows.”
“Knows what?” Palmer asked.
Kent shrugged and smiled. “Things.”
“I thought the gummy Raúl gave me was . . . special?”
Kent laughed. “Eat up, Palmer.” He winked and bit into his own taco.
THIRTY-FIVE
For the first time in her life, Palmer felt what it was like to belong. She and Kent, along with Raúl and his family, sat around a bonfire, despite the warm temperatures, and laughed. They enjoyed each other’s company and told stories about life, love, and the art of making the best roadside taco. Raúl and Kent spoke about going through basic training together, deploying, and coming back to a country where half the people loved them, while the other half hated them because of the war. Each time one of the guys would say “Do you remember that time,” everyone turned to listen. It didn’t matter what the men had to say: people listened.
Everyone took turns telling a story, whether it was about their life or their day. Julia was animated when she spoke, using her hands for emphasis, and saying the hip words Kent and Palmer had laughed about earlier.
“So, like I was asked to the winter formal,” Julia told her family. All the women were excited, but the men . . . not so much.
“Nah,” Raúl said. “I need to meet him first.”
Julia rolled her eyes; even Palmer, with her failing eyesight, could see that. Julia waved her big brother away, but Raúl wasn’t having it. He went to her and pulled her into a bear hug. She screamed out and begged her brother to stop. Everyone around them laughed.
This is what it’s like to have a family, Palmer thought to herself as she watched them horse around. Raúl’s abuelita stood next to Palmer and put her hand on her head. She leaned into his abuelita’s touch, welcoming the soft hand against her skin. His abuelita muttered something in Spanish and started rubbing an oil into Palmer’s neck.
“What’s this?”
“It’s lavender oil. It’ll keep you calm,” Martina said. “You’re stressed?”
Palmer nodded.
“I can tell. This will help. It’s Abuelita’s recipe, and she swears it’s a cure-all for anything that ails you.”
Kent squeezed Palmer’s hand and winked. Maybe it was the gummy Raúl had given her earlier or the sheer comfort she felt around his family. Either way, she was about to open up to strangers, people who didn’t feel like strangers to her at all.
“There’s no cure for what I have,” Palmer said to the group. She told her story to the people who’d opened their home and hearts to her. From the second she’d stepped out of the truck, she’d felt like she belonged with Raúl and his family. As she spoke, Abuelita hugged her and spoke of how God would greet her when she arrived in heaven. Raúl translated, and the once-boisterous crowd quieted and listened.
When she finished, everyone, including the people she couldn’t recall names for, came to her and hugged her. Martina cried, and then cried harder when she hugged Kent. Abuelita moved her chair next to Palmer’s and held her hand. This was the first time Palmer had held the hand of a grandmother. She wished she knew Spanish because she wanted to talk to the woman next to her. Palmer suspected Raúl’s grandmother had a story to tell, a lifelong journey to peace, that she’d found when she’d opened the roadside stand.
As darkness grew around them, Palmer prayed for the first time in her life, with her newfound family. The thought hadn’t even crossed her mind when she’d sat in the church and stared at the man on the cross. She’d been angry with him for giving her the short end of the stick when it came to life. She was a good person with shit luck, and she didn’t understand why.
All night long, Kent sat on her other side, touching her in some way, being an attentive fake boyfriend. He made sure she always had water in her cup, that she wasn’t going hungry, and that she was all right.
