“Aunt Julia. Can you promise me?”
“What?”
“What I asked you. That you would think about us being together.”
“I promise you. I’ll think about it. There,” Aunt Julia said, mustering a smile, “does that make you happy?”
“Yes, it does.”
Mary’s lunch period was at noon, so as soon as she got to school she went directly to the cafeteria and found Renata sitting with Evangelina. Fortunately, Evangelina stood up as soon as Mary sat down. “I have to finish my algie,” Evangelina said.
“She’s not leaving because of you,” Renata explained after she left. “She really does have to catch up on her algebra. She’s flunking out in just about all her classes. She wants me to tutor her, but it’d be like dumb and dumber. Hey, you weren’t in history this morning. What happened to you? And where’s your baggie lunch?”
Mary wanted to tell Renata about Kate. How odd that she had never before felt the need to share what she was going through. But she decided to hold back for the moment. “Aunt Julia and I had a long conversation this morning.”
“And?”
“She’s not staying with us. We were counting on Papa’s insurance money, and yesterday we found out we were denied, and now Aunt Julia says she’s going back home.”
“Tell me exactly what happened.”
“I asked Aunt Julia if she could stay with us or if Mama and I could go live with her, but she didn’t want us to. It turns out that she has cancer.”
“Wait, you’re going way too fast for me. Start at the beginning. I’m missing something here. Why would you ask her to live with you?”
Mary took a deep breath. She could feel her eyes redden. “It’s a long story.”
“Well . . .” Renata moved closer to her. She was willing to listen.
Words came out fast. “Kate got accepted into Stanford. A school in California. She really wants to go. It’s her dream. So I thought one solution was for Aunt Julia to live with Mama and me while Kate was away, or Mama and I could move to San Jose where Aunt Julia lives. I thought we could use the insurance money, but then it turns out that we were rejected because the insurance company claims Papa committed some kind of fraud. He didn’t tell them he had a heart condition.” She stopped to breathe briefly. “But even if we had the insurance money, Aunt Julia said no.”
“She said no?”
“When she first said no, I thought it was because she was selfish, but it turns out she’s ill. She has cancer. I feel terrible for doubting her.”
“Wow. I don’t know what to say. Where to start? Kate is actually thinking of going away to college? Are you kidding me?”
“It’s her dream. Don’t hold it against her.”
“I’m not holding it against her, it’s just that dreams have to adjust to reality. The reality is that she can’t leave you and your mother alone. Talk about being selfish.”
“Do you think so?”
“Well, what do you think? What would you do? Would you go away and leave her and your mother alone? Tell the truth.”
“But it’s not the same. I would never be able to get into a place like Stanford.”
“But you have your own dreams. You want to be a great painter. Remember that school fair when you donated one of your paintings? And remember what the man who bought it said, that he would buy paintings like that anytime. You’re a great painter already. My point is that you wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice your dream for the sake of your mama and your sister if it ever came to that.”
“I don’t know,” Mary said. Tears welled up in her eyes.
“Listen to me,” Renata said. “Guess what.”
Mary took a napkin from Renata’s tray and wiped her cheeks. “What?”
Renata put an arm around Mary, took an orange that she had already peeled, and offered her half. Mary contemplated it for a few seconds and then placed it on the table in front of her.
“My mother has this friend who’s a social worker. She called her — you know Mom, she really gets into these things. Mom told this Mrs. Fresquez, that’s the name of the social worker, all about you and your sister and your mother, and Mrs. Fresquez says there are definitely programs that can help with medical care for your mom and help for you and your sister.”
“Yeah?” Renata’s words made the tears come even more abundantly, but for a different reason. It felt good to have someone worry about her.
“I got Mrs. Fresquez’s number. We can go tomorrow after school. Kate could come if she wants to. You think Kate would want to?”
Mary sniffed. Kate. She looked around the cafeteria for her. “Maybe.”
“Knowing Kate, she’s probably too proud to accept help. But what else are you going to do? You’re running out of options.” When she saw that Mary had stopped crying, Renata moved closer and whispered, “What happened between Kate and Simon?”
“How’d you know?” Mary asked, raising her head.
“Are you kidding me? Bonnie’s cell phone has been burning up telling people the news. Even us puny sophomores knew all about it by second period.”
“But it only happened last night.”
“What did Kate tell you? Tell me, tell me, don’t hold back a single dirty detail.” Renata was pretending to be gossipy, but she was also truly itching to know, Mary could tell. But how could she say anything without divulging that Kate hadn’t come home?
“I was asleep when she came in last night,” Mary said.
Renata cocked her head. “How about this morning?”
“She told me she broke up with Simon. You know Kate. If she doesn’t feel like talking, she won’t.”
“She wasn’t upset? When you saw her this morning, I mean?” The two girls stared at each other — a friendly stare, a who-will-blink-first kind of stare. Mary had a feeling Renata knew Kate hadn’t come home. “Kate’s not in school this morning,” Renata continued. “Everyone knows everything around here. This is big, Mary, huge. Bonnie’s walking around drooling and fawning over Simon.”
“Stop,” Mary said gently.
“Okay. But where’s Kate? Think carefully about the lie you’re about to tell me. You already said she didn’t say anything to you before she left this morning, so you can’t say she’s at home. She didn’t come home last night, did she?”
“She came home.” Mary was glad that she could be truthful about something.
“You’re utterly hopeless. That’s all right. I’ll get my information elsewhere.” Renata stuck her tongue out at Mary. “She was out with another guy.”
“No way!” Mary tried to make it sound as if that was absolutely impossible.
“That’s what Bonnie’s saying. She’s saying it was Simon who broke up with Kate. Is it true?”
Mary could not believe all the rumors that had spread in the four hours since she spoke to Bonnie. “Did she happen to say why?” She tried to sound annoyed, but she was actually more concerned that people might know about Kate and Reverend Soto.
“No. You know, Simon’s not a bad guy. Girls like Bonnie would not hesitate to snatch him.”
“She’s Kate’s best friend.”
“Bonnie’s her own best friend, trust me. She’s been eyeing Simon all along. He’s just her type too. You know all she wants is to get married and have babies, and Simon with his restaurants fits the bill just perfectly.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Cause I’m an observer of human nature, girl! Personally, I never liked Simon that much. He’s a little too goody-goody. You and I need someone wild and dangerous, like him.”
Mary followed Renata’s hot gaze to the front of the cafeteria and her heart leapt. Marcos was standing with a tray in his hand, looking around for a place to sit. “Look at that body, those eyes,” Renata said. “If he ever even smiled at me, I’d melt. Oh. Oh. He’s looking straight at us.” Mary looked down and covered her face with her hand. “Mary, Mary.” Renata was shaking her arm, whispering. “He’s walking. Here.
He’s, like, going to sit with us.” She stopped talking and proceeded to nervously dismember her half of the orange.
“Hey,” Marcos said. He was standing at their table.
“Hey,” Mary said. Renata shot Mary a shocked look.
He sat down without asking if he could. “I had this great idea for the mural I wanted to show you.”
“Renata, this is Marcos. Marcos, this is Renata.” Someone had to be polite.
“Hey,” he said, smiling at Renata. Renata was totally mute.
“She actually can talk,” Mary said. “Ouch.” She experienced a sharp pain in her foot, the kind that comes when the person sitting next to you stomps on it.
“You’re a junior, aren’t you?” Renata had found her tongue again.
“Sort of,” Marcos said. “I’ve missed so many classes they’re threatening to make me come back another year.”
“Why do you miss so many classes?” Renata asked.
“Renata!” Mary said.
Marcos shrugged. “I had to take care of business.” He scrunched his eyebrows to make himself look scary. Renata gulped. He turned to Mary with a grin. “Want to know what I’m thinking . . . for the mural?”
“I guess,” Mary said.
“Wait, are you guys in art class together or something?” Renata said.
“Or something,” Marcos answered. “I have to do this mural as a community service thing, and I think I got Mary here to help me.”
“Oh.” Mary could see that Renata was torn between wild curiosity and her desire to give them privacy. Curiosity won out, and she stayed put.
“Well,” Mary said to Marcos, “what’s your idea?”
He opened the spout of his milk carton. “This mural I’m supposed to do. It’s for this center where they teach English as a second language and they also have these programs where they try to make Chicano kids learn about their culture in Mexico. It’s like they want kids and even old people to make it here in the U.S. but not forget where they came from, you know what I mean?”
“Yes,” Mary said.
“Which center are you talking about?” Renata asked.
“The one in Socorro.”
“I know that one. You’re going to paint something on that?”
“On one of the outside walls.”
“Cool. What you gonna paint?”
A strange feeling came over Mary as she listened to Renata and Marcos. Renata and Mary had grown up together; they were in many ways closer than she and Kate. But just then, as Renata talked to Marcos, Mary wanted Marcos to be talking only to her. “Wow,” Mary said, amazed at what she was feeling.
“What?” Marcos asked.
“Nothing. I was just remembering something.” Mary felt she had probably done more lying that morning than she had in her entire life.
Marcos took a folded piece of paper from his back pocket. He turned it toward Renata and Mary and spread it on the table.
“What is that?” Renata asked, squinting.
“Two eagles,” Marcos said.
“Oh!” Mary exclaimed. One of the eagles was exactly like the one in the drawing she had given Papa.
“Is it that bad?” Marcos asked.
“No,” Mary said. She was unable to say anything else.
Marcos looked somewhat confused, but he went on, “This one’s an American bald eagle and this one’s the Mexican golden eagle — you know, like the kind on the Mexican flag, only here I have it flying. I didn’t do a very good job at showing the two eagles with their wings spread.” He stopped and looked into Mary’s eyes, waiting for her reaction.
Mary felt pride, as if she herself had done the drawing. “It’s great,” she finally said.
“Really?” Marcos asked, excited.
Renata clapped as if something wonderful had just happened. Mary could tell by the way she looked at her that there was no jealousy or envy in her heart. She’s a better person than I am, she said to herself.
“I didn’t say the drawing was great,” Mary said. “I meant the idea is great. You don’t have any perspective on the wings, and the eagles look like skinny chickens, but the idea is good.”
Renata elbowed Mary. “She’s kidding, she’s kidding. The eagles are awesome, just fab!”
“It’s a start,” Mary said, trying not to show any more emotion.
“We’re still on for Saturday morning, right?”
“I never told you I could go.”
“That’s right. You said you were going to check. I’ll call you on Friday.” A few boys at a nearby table were staring at Marcos. He nodded in their direction as if telling them that he’d be right there. Then he pushed himself off the bench and picked up his tray.
Mary didn’t want him to leave. “Work on the drawing,” she said quickly. “You’ll need to have a detailed sketch before you start painting.”
“Yeah. I’ll work on it.” He smiled at Mary and winked at Renata, then went to the table with the boys.
When he was out of earshot, Renata said, “Oh. My. God. What was that all about? You have A LOT of explaining to do.”
“There’s nothing to explain. Mr. Gomez asked me to help him with some drawing, and then he asked me to help him with that mural.”
“You’re in love with him.”
“Pleeease! Don’t be silly. I don’t even know him. Besides, he’s in a gang.”
“I saw you light up like a Christmas tree when he was talking to you. You’ll have to work out this gang thing, but you’re in love with him. You don’t even know it yet, but you are.”
“I have to go to my locker. You coming?” Mary picked up the uneaten half of the orange. Suddenly she thought of Kate. She searched for her one last time around the cafeteria, but Kate was nowhere to be seen.
Her heart, the same one that had just soared, plummeted to the ground.
They pulled into the El Camino Hotel and parked in front of number 157. She could see a light in the room through a crack in the curtains. Nothing’s going to happen, she told herself. I just need a place to rest.
“Are you sure you’re all right with this?” Andy asked. There was something that made her feel safe in the way he said that. “I can drive you home if you want.”
For some reason his words reminded her of Simon. She and Simon had gone out for three months before they kissed in his car, and when they kissed, she felt Simon’s lips tremble as if he were afraid she was a mirage too beautiful and good to be true.
“What was your boyfriend’s name?” Andy asked.
“Simon.”
“You were thinking of him just then, weren’t you?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“You said earlier that you broke up with him. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that right about now, you’d probably be thinking about him. What’s he like, Simon?”
“Simon is your standard nice guy,” Kate said. “He’s hardworking, dependable, steady.” She let go of the door handle and leaned back in the car seat.
“Why’d you break up with him?”
“I’m not sure what happened.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “I think he broke up with me. He wanted to get married. He wanted to take care of me and Mary and Mother.”
“And . . .”
“I asked for more time, but I guess he could tell that I was really saying no.” Kate exhaled. “Maybe there’s something seriously wrong with me. I don’t know. I’ve had this stupid dream about going to Stanford for so long that I’ve never let anything or anyone interfere with it, not a nice guy like Simon, not my little sister, not anything. If Father hadn’t died, I would have ended up fighting him to keep that dream.”
He turned the ignition switch on for a moment and opened both of the front windows. Immediately a cool breeze blew through the car. She heard the roar of noise from Interstate 10 and imagined each truck that went by as a wave crashing on a beach.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” he said. He reached over and gave her hand a tiny squeeze. ?
??Do you love Simon?” He didn’t take his hand away.
She closed her eyes and concentrated on the warmth of his hand. More. What she felt asked for more. With Simon, she was content, full, at peace. With Andy she felt the need for more conversation, more emotion, more touch. Which of the two feelings was love? She opened her eyes and remembered that he had asked a question.
“I’m sorry, what did you ask me?”
He chuckled. “Do you love him? Do you love Simon?”
She shook her head. “Mary has never dated anyone and she knows more about love than I do. She says that when she paints, she sees this light in whatever she’s painting, and this light is the same as a light she recognizes inside of her. This recognition of lights is what she calls love. It’s all very joyful, but it involves hard work at the same time to keep them together. I think that something along those lines is probably what it means to truly love another person.”
“Wow,” he said.
“What?”
“I was just thinking about your sister’s love. That’s beautiful, but unreal, not human. Most of us have to settle for the regular human kind of love. Regular human love is all we’ve got.”
“And what’s regular human love?”
“Wanting the other person physically and emotionally, hurting with their absence, needing them, that’s part of it.”
She closed her eyes again as she spoke. “I’ve always felt that my dream to go to Stanford, to be a doctor, is similar to how you defined love. It’s wanting something very badly, searching for it at all costs, needing it. I always felt ashamed when Father used to preach against ambition, because I knew I had it in me in the worst possible way. And now I don’t know whether I’ve been blinded by it so I can’t see what is really good for me — like Simon.”
“Or it could be that Simon is not the right person for you. You can’t really force yourself to want someone. You do or you don’t.”
“I thought I wanted Simon.”
“Is he like you? Is he ambitious?”
“No, not in the sense of wanting what he doesn’t have. He’s happy already. He’s going to run one of his father’s restaurants. He’s content with that.”
“Maybe you need someone more like you, someone who believes there’s nothing wrong with ambition. It’s how God gets things done in the world.”