Chapter Fourteen

Whoever decided fluorescent lights should be the standard in big-box stores was an actual masochist. They flatter no one, and I can say this with confidence now that I’ve spent four hours under them while working my first shift at Nature’s Grocer— far m-fre sh food for a hap py-fre sh you!

Yes, that’s the terrible tag line I’m forced to utter whenever I finish ringing up a customer.

It’s a small price to pay considering I earn a full five bucks more per hour than the other min imum-wage jobs I applied for. I even get to wear a forest- green apron and visor as I ring up organic groceries for wealthy people. Yay, capitalism!

Luckily, I’ve already gotten good at smiling through the pain. I’m telling myself I’m saying their tag line ironically, which helps a little.

By the end of my first shift, though, my feet are sore and I realize that wearing wedges was probably not the move.

I’m limping my way inside the house and all too grateful to be home when the scent of Abuela’s delicious pollo guisado hits me. My stomach grumbles, since I’ve subsisted all day on nothing but a granola bar I had in my backpack for emergencies (because everything at Nature’s Grocer is way out of my price range, even with the employee discount).

“¡Hola!” Abuela calls to me when she hears the sound of my keys dropping into the bowl in our entryway.

“Hi, Abuela!” I kick off my shoes and hobble into the kitchen, where Abuela sits at the table using her reading glasses to sew Lily’s pin k-and-wh ite backpack.

“What happened?” I ask, surprised to see it torn.

Abuela shoots me a look. “Lily won’t say, but when she came home, one of the straps on her backpack was broken.”

“Do you think someone broke it on purpose?” I hate that that’s my first instinct, but I’m always worried someone is going to pick on Lily.

She shakes her head. “No se. Maybe it just got caught on something and she’s embarrassed. It’s an easy fix.”

“I hope that’s what happened.” From the cabinet, I grab myself a big bowl and start to spoon in some of the chicken stew, which is still warm on the stove.

“Why are you walking like a little old lady?”

“I’m not,” I lie.

Abuela pushes her glasses up so they rest on her head. “I have eyes, mija.”

With a sigh, I sit at the table across from her. “I learned the hard way that I wore the wrong shoes for my first shift.” I show her my red and blistering feet and she grimaces.

“¡Ay! That looks painful. Let me get you something to soak them.”

“I’m okay, Abuela, really.” Of course, she won’t hear it, immediately retrieving a bucket and filling it with warm water.

“Here,” she says, setting it down in front of me.

The combination of sinking my aching feet into the warm water and taking a big bite of Abuela’s warm stew makes me feel whole again. “Thank you so much.”

She comes over and kisses the top of my head. “Siempre, mi amor.” She rejoins me on the other side of the table.

“If you leave that, I can finish it,” I offer. But she waves her hand at me.

That’s the thing with Abuela— she always wants to take care of everything herself, tending to everyone around her before caring for herself. Sometimes I like being doted on, but I do wish she’d occasionally let me and Lily dote on her, too.

I swallow another bite of the stew. “How was your day?”

“Bien, bien,” she murmurs, focusing on the backpack. “Pero, this uppity woman came in to complain about a skirt of hers I hemmed three years ago.”

“What?!”

“¡Sí! She says she hadn’t had time to try it on until now and when she put it on, it didn’t sit right. As if bodies can’t change over three years?” She sucks in some air through her teeth, shaking her head. “Some people.”

“That’s wild, Abuela. What did you say?”

“I told her I would fix it for her.”

“Abuela!”

“Well!” She huffs. “She had this cute little baby with her and I just turned to marshmallow. I couldn’t say no while he was looking at me.”

I smile at her, pulling my feet out from the bowl and drying them off. “You big softie.” I rise to put my plate in the dishwasher and give her a side hug on my way to the counter. “I like that about you.”

She pats my arm and leans her head against me. I give her a kiss on her head. She works so hard for us; I’m happy I was able to get this par t-time job to be able to give back to her, even if it isn’t much.

Abuela is essentially a single mom, since we lost Abuelo years ago to cancer. Thankfully, Titi Mariana and Titi Luisa help fill in the gaps whenever they can. We know they’d be there if things ever got really bad, like a safety net. Sometimes the emphasis on family above all else in our culture can be a little toxic, but I lucked out to be part of a pretty wonderful one.

The three sisters get together a few times a month to play dominoes or trade chisme or go to the “club,” which is actually a local community center that has a bimonthly 50+ Latin Night. Abuela never misses a chance to go with her sisters and dance with the crowd.

I think of Titi Mariana and Titi Luisa like yin and yang. They’re both older than Abuela, but all three look younger than fifty by a lot. Titi Mariana loves when people tell her she seems too young to be a grandma. She’s loud and bright and fun, while Titi Luisa, a devoted Catholic woman who never married, is sof ter- spoken and more reserved. We love them both fiercely.

After I load the dishwasher, I walk into the living room, expecting to see Lily, but she’s not there. I check her room, which is a huge mess, by the way, and she’s not there, either.

“Where’s Lily?” I call out.

“Oh! She’s staying over at Ruby’s tonight,” Abuela says from the kitchen. “And I’m off to Titi Mariana’s for a little bit.”

“On a school night?” I ask, and Abuela shoots me a look. “I meant that about Lily, not you!”

“¡Sí! You stay at Sophie’s on school nights all the time,” she reminds me.

“Oh. That’s true.”

“It’s good for her, I think,” Abuela continues. “I’m happy she’s found a good friend.”

“Yeah,” I agree, though I find myself feeling a little skeptical of Ruby. “Me too. Anyway, have fun. Tell Titi I said hi. And don’t stay out too late.”

Abuela rolls her eyes at me, but leans down to kiss my cheek. “Yes, mami.”

I watch her go. When the door closes behind her, the house feels eerily quiet. I wish Lily were here with me. Since she started high school, it’s felt like we’ve seen less and less of each other. Part of me is proud of her for settling in so nicely and so quickly. But the other part of me just misses her.