This Side of Providence (23 page)

“So what happened with you two?” I ask her. “Why'd he move out?”

“Shit. How much time you got?” Kim's smiling but I can tell she's not happy.

“All I got is time,” I say. When I finish the first one, I grab another slice.

Kim pours herself another drink. She keeps making me coffee 'cause I say I've quit everything stronger and when we run out she promises to pick some up at the grocery store next
time she goes out. We talk about her and Chino, how he cheated on her with some Guatemalan chick who works at the Price Rite and now Kim refuses to go grocery shopping. There's two sides to every story, but I know my cousin's no saint. I figure she's telling the truth about it, otherwise he'd be here with everyone right now to welcome me home.

After we eat I ask my kids to show me their report cards. Luz brings me a paper with straight As on it.

“Wow. Look at you, superstar.”

“Actually, it's not straight As. I got an A-minus in gym because I never did a pull-up, but the teacher felt bad ruining my record so he gave me the full A. But technically, I don't deserve it.”

Cristo's got a million excuses when he hands his over.

“It's gonna get better next term, Mami. When I get extra credit on this project I'm doing with Teacher.”

“What teacher is that?”

“Miss Valentín,” he says.

“You know she's the only one he ever talks about,” Luz adds. He's too busy making a face at his sister to see me roll my eyes. Luz tries to elbow him, but I reach out in between them, tickling them both. She pulls away, but he lets me catch him, laughing so hard he chokes on his soda.

“What about your teacher this year?”

“Mrs. Reed,” Luz says.

“I can answer for myself,” he says, still coughing.

“Then why don't you?”

“She's all right,” he says, looking at me now, “but she doesn't really like me.”

“Not true,” Luz tells me. “She'd like you fine if you weren't tardy all the time and turning in your homework so late.”

Cristo kicks her in the leg, but she doesn't even wince.

“Here, look at my project so far.” Cristo comes and sits on my lap to show me a binder full of loose pages. “See, these are all different poems, about love and nature and stuff. I'm putting them together to make a book, with a real cover and everything.”

“A book of poetry? Wow, aren't you a romantic.” I pretend
to read the poems. “You understand all this?” I ask him. “Seriously?”

“It's not that hard, Mami. If you slow down and really read it.” He takes the binder from me and closes it gently, like it's one of those old books from a museum with pages that dissolve between your fingers. “I know you don't like books, but maybe you can look at it sometime, when it's done.”

“Of course, sweetheart. I will love any book you make.” Then I kiss him and tell him I like a lot of things I didn't used to like, and I hate a few things I used to love. He says he'll give it to me once it's finished and looks like a real book.

While the kids get ready for bed Kim brings me into her bedroom and gives me a nightgown to wear and some old socks of Chino's that I can use as slippers. I help Luz pull out the couch and the three of us climb into bed together just like we used to when we first got to New York and were staying in Chino's apartment in the Bronx. I'm in the middle with one kid on either side. As soon as they fall asleep, they curl into me, tucked into balls like when they were tiny babies inside me. I lean over and kiss Luz on the top of her head. The smell of her hair makes me want to cry. All those years I was using, I couldn't smell anything, but now that it's back, I can hardly take it.

The living room is dark, but there's enough light coming from the street to see Cristo's face. He's thinner than when I left, and a little more grownup looking, I guess. And he looks even more like me. I reach out to touch his hair. The curls are long again, like when he was a baby. I brush them with my fingers until my arm gets tired and then I rest it on his pillow, still holding onto his head.

“You are always gonna be my baby,” I whisper to him in the dark room. “No matter how big you get or how old you are.”

I close my eyes and think of Trini, my sweet little girl, and a smile comes across my face. Suddenly I feel my eyes fill up and when I open them, tears run down my cheeks and onto the pillow. I feel her missing from the bed, like how people say you can still feel your leg after it gets cut off. My nose is running and I have to bite into my knuckle to keep myself from sobbing. I take a deep breath and focus on lying still. I think of the night
before, how I was lying in a prison bunk with Candy, and how crazy it seems that twenty-four hours later I'm here on a pull-out couch with my children, free to come and go as I please.

But I don't have all my children.

The first thing I do in the morning is call Scottie. The number I have for him is old and it just rings and rings. Then I call his sister's house and leave a message on her answering machine. I try to sound real nice, just saying that I'm back and I want to see my daughter. An hour later I call again and leave the same message. When I don't hear from him by lunchtime, I call the boxing gym where he works and tell the manager it's an emergency about his daughter and that he needs to call this number right away. Scottie's real pissed when he calls back and finds out it's just me.

I tell him I want to see Trini and he says she's with his sister but he can bring her to me after work. I make myself say thank you, but when he asks me how I like being free, I hang up the phone.

I don't want to be alone in the house so I go to the flea market at Atlantic Mills to do my last-minute Christmas shopping. I buy sweatshirts and socks for my kids and a suitcase with wheels for Kim. All my money is gone now and I'm happy that I don't have to keep thinking of ways to spend it.

When I'm still in the parking lot I see one of the ladies who works at the needle exchange carrying supplies into the building. She sings a song to herself about outlaws. I remember bringing Trini with me one time last year, when I couldn't get anyone to watch her. At first the lady pissed me off 'cause she said I couldn't bring anyone under eighteen into the room, but then she came out and stood with the stroller so I could go in and exchange my needles. I remember her singing a few Ricky Martin songs to keep Trini distracted. She was the first person who knew I was a junkie and still looked me in the eyes, so I always liked her for that. She looks my way now, like she knows I'm thinking about her, but I turn away before she sees
me. I put all my presents into the suitcase and wheel it back to Kim's. I keep my head down when I walk down Manton, praying nobody will recognize me.

Scottie never comes by. I call him and his sister again, but nobody answers. This time, the answering machine don't even pick up. When Kim comes home I borrow her car and go by the house. I can't remember the last time I was alone in a car. I keep forgetting how to shift so the car stalls on all the hills. The driveway's empty so I figure nobody's there. I wait for a while, watching the neighbor walk his Doberman up and down the street. When he lets the dog take a dump in the yard I laugh.

Once it's dark I can see lights on in the house. I get out of the car and knock on the front door. The door's been repainted so many times it barely stays shut. His sister's inside with her boyfriend watching a baseball game on their wide-screen TV. A space heater in the corner makes the room so hot I don't step inside. She says Scottie's working late tonight so I should go by there. As I'm walking back to Kim's car I hear her yell out, “Welcome home,” and then I hear the boyfriend laugh like it was the punch line of a real funny joke.

As soon as I get to the gym I see his old Cadillac. Trini's car seat is in the back, next to a basket of dirty laundry and some pizza boxes. Her stuffed elephant is on the floor next to an empty sippy cup. The sign says they're closed, but a bunch of guys are working out inside, all sweaty and shirtless. I recognize most of them, but I don't say hi and neither do they. When I ask for Scottie the manager tells me he's in the back office cleaning up.

I see Trini first, sitting on the floor in the middle of a huge pile of white towels. Only her head is visible. Her hair is darker than I remember it, and it's tied back in two pink ribbons. She's singing a song to herself, but when she sees me she stops. We lock eyes. I am smiling as I bend down to look at her.

“Hola, mija,”
I whisper like I'm telling her a secret. “I been waiting a long time to see you.”

She flashes a quick smile before hiding her face in the towels. Scottie is not in the room, which doesn't surprise me. Trini lifts up her head and stares at me.

“You know who I am, don't you?” I touch her arm and
squeeze her chubby hand. She pulls it away from me. “You remember Mami, don't you, baby?”

She blinks and looks down at my hand. I turn it over, showing her both sides. She touches my scar, then pulls her hand away.

“Where's your daddy, Trini?
D
ó
nde est
á
tu papá
?”

She opens her eyes wide and says, “Daddy's working.”

I fix one of her ribbons, retying it into a large bow. She stares at my hands again.

“Do you like my ribbon?” she asks me.

“Si, es muy bonita.”
I move some towels and help her stand up. She takes a few steps away, but keeps her eyes on me the whole time.

“My favorite color is pink,” I tell her.

“I know,” she says. “I like pink, too.”

I am smiling at her but tears are filling my eyes. I don't want to cry, but I can't stop myself.

“Are you sad?” she asks.

“No, I'm very happy.” I wipe the tears off my face and smile at her again. When I try to hug my daughter she twists out of my hands. She goes back to stand next to the pile of towels.

“Can you help me find your daddy?” I hold my hand out to her. “Come on, let's go look for him.”

She sucks on the end of her hair, just like Luz when she's nervous. When she finally gives me her hand, I hold it gently, like I'm holding something already broken. We walk down a wide hallway and into a storage room in the back.

“There he is,” she says, pointing to a wall of boxes.

I see the cigarette smoke first, then his long, skinny body steps into view. “You found me,” he says with a bright voice. He is talking to her, but looking at me. He stamps out his cigarette on the concrete floor.

“It's late. I figured it was best to come to you.” I'm trying not to sound as pissed off as I feel.

“I know it's late. Things got crazy. My bad.”

“She should be in bed.”

He laughs. “You hear that, pumpkin? Mami thinks it's bedtime.”

Trini looks at me. I can see her trying to fit the pieces together, trying to match the word
Mami
with this lady standing next to her, not quite holding her hand.

“What do you think,” Scottie asks her, “do you want to go to bed?”

She shakes her head. He reaches down to tickle her as he passes by.

“I didn't think so.”

“It's nine o'clock, Scottie.”

He looks at his watch. “She just took a nap.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Relax. She's fine.”

We follow him back to the office, no longer holding hands. Trini drags a box filled with plastic horses to a small rug under his desk. She stands them in two lines, facing each other.

“I want to take her home.”

“And where exactly is that?” He stands with his back to me, folding the towels into perfect squares.

“To Kim's.”

“No way. There's not even a bed for you there.”

I step closer to him, ignoring my instincts. “How would you know?”

He shrugs. “I see Kim around, we talk.”

“Then you should know it's only temporary. I'm gonna get my own place.”

“Let me know when you do and we can work something out.”

He won't look at me.

“She's my daughter, Scott.”

“I know that,” he says. “She's mine, too.”

I watch Trini knock over the line of horses like dominoes.

“Fine. But I want her on Christmas.”

He snaps the towel to flatten it, which sounds like a whip cracking.

“Okay. I'll bring her over after we open presents with my sister.”

“And then she can spend the night.”

“I don't think she'll want to.”

“Bullshit.” I spit the word at him, wetting his arm. “I'm her mother.” I look at my daughter again. Her lips are moving, but I can't hear what she's saying. “You should think about her, not you.”

“I am thinking about her. If I was thinking about me I'd ask you to pay me back for the money I spotted you.”

I look at him like he's crazy. “What money?”