Right girl wrong side, p.13
Right Girl, Wrong Side, page 13
A smile lit up her face. “I thought it would make a good Christmas tree ornament.” She dangled it in the air, holding it by her thumb and forefinger. “What do you think?”
“Yeah. I can see it.”
“I’ll probably make a few more. Maybe Mom and Dad would like one for a Christmas gift.”
“I’d like one too.” She glanced at him. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
“No, yeah. It’s fine. I’ll make one more.” She tried to act cool about it, but he could tell his request pleased her.
“See any more of those guys?” He gestured to the ocean.
“Not yet. Mostly dolphins.”
He stared at the waves, watching a glistening arc curve out of the water. “Mads, wait,” he said, pointing. “Look! Out there!” They scrambled to their feet, shielding their eyes from the sun with their hands.
“Oh gosh! Is it really?” Maddy bounced up and down on her heels.
He couldn’t have been happier for her, or for the two of them. This was a bonding moment. He now saw those couldn’t be orchestrated. They just happened.
She grabbed her phone from her canvas bag. “I’m going to try to get a video.”
“Hurry then.”
She filmed as the creature moved down the shore.
“Mom! Dad!” he called to his parents. “Look out there! A whale!”
But by the time they focused their attention on the sea, it had disappeared, submerging itself in the waves like a big submarine.
Maddy replayed the video. “Got it!” she said, holding up her phone.
“Amazing,” he said when she played him the clip. “You enlarged it?”
“Yeah, and sharpened the contrast.”
“There will be no parents doubting you now.”
She frowned.
“Mads?” he said. “Are you okay?”
She sat back down in her chair. “I’m really sick of playing the cello.” Her admission came out of left field. She was a genius at that. He’d been to her concerts. Extremely gifted.
“Wait.” He sat down beside her. “What?”
She hung her head and said glumly, “It’s all Mom can talk about. Julliard. Dad too. I mean, what’s the big deal? Just because the place is famous.”
“Maybe they think that’s what you want?”
“No. I’ve tried to tell them.” She sighed. “They just never listen to me.”
He rested his arms on his bent knees, studying the waves as they rose in regal white crests, then fell with great splashes. “What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know yet.” She motioned to her macrame whale. “This?”
“Work with your hands?”
“It’s really fun, you know?” She angled her chin toward the clouds. “Creating stuff.”
“Music’s creative.”
“Not really if you’re not writing it.”
“What about the greats who perform it? The masters put their own spin on a piece. Sometimes improvise. Think—Yo-Yo Ma.”
“That’s just it,” she said. “I don’t want be a great master. Or even a minor one.”
He laughed at her joke. “I see.”
“Just because you’re good at something doesn’t mean you should be forced to do it, right?”
“I agree.”
“I mean, the cello is easy for me. I don’t know why. Just is.”
“You’re a natural.”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
“That doesn’t matter so much if it’s not what you want to do.”
“It’s not that I hate playing,” she told him. “I like getting things right.”
He stared down at her handicraft. She hadn’t missed a stitch. “You’re very detail-oriented. I can see that. That’s an asset. A skill.”
“I like other artsy stuff too,” she said. “I tried papermaking once in art class. That was cool.”
“There are lots of programs where you can explore that. College programs in art, if that’s what you want.”
“Mom and Dad would never send me.”
He frowned because he feared there was some truth to that. “You could always send yourself.”
“Doubtful.”
“There are scholarships for talented people,” he said. “You’ve still got two years left of high school. There’s still time for you to take more art classes. Feel out what you’d like.”
She gave a resigned pout. “Mom and Dad make my schedule. I never even have a say.”
“Yeah. But.” He waited until she met his eyes. “What if they didn’t?”
“Are you kidding? They’d never listen to me. They think I’m just a kid.”
“What if I talked to them?”
Moisture glistened in her eyes. They were baby blue like the sky and still filled with innocence, despite the jaded exterior she put forward. “Wait. Would you? You mean you’d do that?”
Ryan sighed, wanting to help her all he could. No wonder she’d been in such a funk. She’d felt railroaded into a career that loomed ahead of her, and she wasn’t even sixteen. “I can’t make you any promises,” he said. “But I’ll do what I can. And anyway, Mads.”
“Huh?”
“You can’t be afraid to chart your own path. You will be an adult and on your own one day. It might feel like it’s far away right now, but that future’s honestly right around the corner for you.”
She smiled, and he saw her childhood self again. The trusting little sister who’d looked up at him and had followed him around the house, pestering him with question after question about why butterflies had wings and how birds could fly. “You really think so?”
“I do think so.”
“Is that what you did?” she asked him. “Chart your own path?”
“Yeah.” His shoulders drooped. “And it wasn’t always easy around Mom and Dad.” That much was real. He’d gone ahead and done what he’d wanted anyway. Once he was in grad school and paying his own ticket, they didn’t have much influence. He’d never turn back now. He just wanted his parents to be cool with the decisions he’d made.
She grinned like he’d let her in on a secret. In a way, he guessed he had. He didn’t talk to many people about his parents’ disapproval of his career. It made him feel lesser. Although it shouldn’t. “Thanks, Ryan.”
“Anytime.”
After a beat, she asked him, “So. You and Evita? Where did you go?”
He gazed at her, hoping she wouldn’t say anything to their parents. “Out for coffee.”
She smiled, seeming to like that idea. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I won’t tell.”
The Machado family poured onto the beach in their bathing suits with Nanny and Quique scampering about like wild things. The children spotted Maddy and Ryan and raced toward them. Evita was busy hauling two coolers down from the deck. Robby went to help her with her heavy load. It looked like they were planning to have a picnic lunch on the beach like his family had done yesterday.
“Kids!” Kendra called, holding a brimming beach bag. “Come back here!”
Chachi was already trudging after them through the sand, but Nanny and Quique got to Maddy first. Their small faces glowed with curiosity and wonder.
“What are you doing?” Quique asked Maddy, staring at her macrame.
“Making a whale.”
“Can it swim?” Nanny asked.
Maddy laughed. “Don’t think so.”
“Can you teach me to make one?” Quique asked next.
“Er. I don’t know.”
“Quique. Nanny,” Chachi said, sounding stern. “What have your mom and I told you about staying on our side of the beach?”
“Why are there sides?” Nanny asked with big, sad eyes.
Chachi took her hand. “There just are.”
Quique’s eyebrows knitted together. “I don’t like sides,” he said. “I like whales.”
Maddy covered her mouth and giggled. “I like whales too.”
“Come on, you two,” Chachi said, corralling Quique in front of him and herding his kids toward the Machado umbrella where Kendra had laid out a big picnic blanket. “Sorry,” he said to Maddy and Ryan. Ryan watched Maddy’s gaze trail them as they walked away, then both kids turned around and gave her a little wave.
Maddy bit her lip and grinned.
***
That evening after dinner, Evita’s family sat around the firepit enjoying the warmth of the flames in the evening chill. Ryan’s family were inside at the kitchen island, playing cards.
“What are they doing in there?” her dad asked.
“Playing bridge, I think?”
“Bridge?” Chachi said like that was weirdest thing in the world.
It did seem a little formal to Evita, but what did she know about the Hatfields? Maybe to them it was a casual game? Like poker or something.
Her mom took a sip of wine. “Figures.”
Kendra stood up. “I’d better check on the kids to be sure they’re really sleeping.”
Evita suspected they would be. They’d been wearing themselves out on the beach, so appeared to have less energy for tormenting each other at night. In fact, this vacation seemed to be doing them good. It was nice seeing them interact with the greater family, and her parents adored them.
She’d noticed them talking to Maddy earlier, wondering what they’d said. She was also curious about Ryan’s conversation with his sister and hoped it went well.
Robby and Eunice had just started to relax after putting Luisa down in her crib, then a whimper sounded through the baby monitor. Robby sighed, appearing deflated.
He raked a hand through his hair and moaned. “It never ends.” He said it like he was joking, but Evita suspected there was a lot of truth in that.
Eunice looked like she wanted to cry. “She’s already eaten a dozen times.”
“Maybe it’s just gas?” Evita’s mom said.
“Or maybe she needs changing?” Evita’s dad chimed in.
Robby and Eunice stared at each other like zombies, each waiting for the other to volunteer. Evita could almost hear their telepathic communications.
Please, please, please.
No you.
But I went last time.
I went the time before.
We’re both so tired.
Ugh.
“Wait.” Evita held out her hand. “I’ll go.”
“What? You?” Eunice asked in a daze.
“Yeah, me.” Evita stood. “I know how to handle a baby.”
“You did very well in the Suburban,” Chachi ribbed.
“Funny, Chachi.” Evita would not be deterred. Robby and Eunice needed a vacation. A real one. At a tropical resort somewhere that didn’t allow kids.
“Are you sure?” Eunice asked, sounding grateful.
“No problem.”
Robby’s dark eyes sparkled. “Thanks, sis. We owe you one.”
Ryan saw her come in the door and waved from the kitchen. Maddy seemed to be in a good mood. When he told some joke, she leaned toward him and laughed. It was maybe the first time Evita had heard Maddy laugh since they’d been here, and it made her heart happy.
Being a teenager was so hard. Even when you were outgoing and had lots of friends like she’d had. Maddy was more introverted, so it was nice to believe she and Ryan might be developing their sibling relationship. Evita didn’t know what she’d do without her brothers. She loved their wives like family too. Their children as well.
She climbed the spiral steps to the bedroom where Luisa was winding herself up. Crying louder and louder, verging on hysteria. Evita quickened her strides.
“Come here, little one.” She reached into the crib and held her. All softness and warmth, and bristling agitation.
She rubbed the baby’s back and she let out a surprisingly loud belch, relaxing in her hold. Evita giggled. “Maybe your Tita was right,” she said softly. “Maybe it was gas.”
“I told you so!” her mom called loudly from the deck outside, her words drifting in through the partially opened French doors in the suite.
Evita sighed and shut off the baby monitor. Prying ears. My family! She changed Luisa’s diaper while speaking soothing words, then swaddled her in a blanket.
She sat in the rocking chair in the corner and cradled Luisa in her arms, singing her a song about a mother hen and her baby chicks in Spanish. It was one her mom used to sing to her, and that her Abuela had sung to her mom before that. “Los pollitos dicen pio, pio, pio…”
The infant stared up at her with big bright eyes, almost like she knew and understood. This lullaby was a part of her. A part of her heritage and family’s tradition. Her fussing became a soft cooing sound and then her eyelids drooped. First one and then the other. Finally both of them at once. Evita sang another tune, and then another. Wondering what it would be like to have a baby. Maybe not so bad when they were like this.
“You finally got her back to sleep, huh?” Ryan said with a husky whisper. He stood in the open doorway.
Evita smiled. “She dropped right off, after I burped her.” She continued rocking as Luisa slept.
“Oh yeah, babies can have an issue with that.”
She studied him curiously. “You remember from Maddy?”
“I do.” He chuckled. “She was a bit of a fussy baby too, but she grew out of it.” He shook his head. “And into a teenager.”
Evita laughed quietly. “How did things go today when you talked with her?”
He sank his hands in his pockets. “Actually, pretty good,” he said, appearing pleased. “Thanks for encouraging me to talk with her. That was the right move.”
Evita smiled. He was such a good big brother. She knew what it was like having one of those. No, two.
Ryan leaned into the doorframe. “You’re very good with her,” he said, indicating Luisa. He surveyed the contours of her chubby cheeks and rich black hair. “She’s a cutie.”
“Yeah.”
“Robby and Eunice are a little burnt out, huh?”
She chuckled softly. “Wouldn’t you be?”
“Oh I’d definitely be,” he said quietly. “Anyway. My family’s turned in, and I’m pretty beat, so I’ll probably say good night. Maybe try to get some sleep.” He cleared his throat. “Before Chachi and Kendra turn in.”
She shifted Luisa in her arms. “Would you like some earplugs?”
“Earplugs?” he asked like she’d offered him the best kind of candy.
“Yeah. I didn’t know my mom had brought them, but apparently she bought several after spending a week with Robby and Eunice—and Luisa—in LA.”
She carefully dug into her shorts pocket, trying not to disturb Luisa’s peaceful slumber. “She gave these to me before dinner once she realized that’s why I’d been tired earlier. On account of Luisa. Well, and Robby.”
“Are you sure? You need to get your rest too.”
“That’s the beauty of it,” she said lightly. “My mom gave me two pairs.”
He approached her with stealthy steps and took one set of earplugs. “Thanks,” he whispered. “I’ll wear them in good health.” When he got to the threshold, he turned. “Thanks for going out for coffee with me. It was fun.”
“It was fun,” she said. She considered how warm and sweet he was. How much she enjoyed being around him. “We’ll have to do it again.” Please say that you want to do it again.
“Yeah.” He laughed. “For sure.”
Yes. Her heart cartwheeled. She wished that he’d say when, but when he didn’t, she decided to bait him a little. “Now that you’ve got my number—” she teased.
He held up his phone. “Exactly.” He slid his phone in his pocket like he wanted to say something more. After a beat, he pursed his lips. “If only our parents weren’t so ridiculous.”
“This is silly.” She sighed. “We’re too old to be this swayed by our folks.”
“You love your family, Evita. You don’t want to hurt them.” Understanding dripped from his words. Resignation too. “Just like I don’t want to upset mine.”
“It’s not Maddy who’s the problem,” she pointed out.
“No, she’s cool. She saw us leaving today but promised not to say anything.”
“Really?” Evita wasn’t as much surprised as pleased. “That’s good.”
“Yeah. So it’s not her we’ve got to worry about. Or your brothers and their families.”
They both frowned. “It’s our parents,” they said sadly together.
A painful lump lodged in her throat. Then another truth occurred. Maybe—totally without meaning to—her family was hurting her by not allowing her to make her own choices, and Ryan’s family was doing the same to him.
“I thought things were going so much better.” He clucked his tongue at the lost opportunity. “But then today, with the music—”
Evita’s heart clenched. “I know. That was my father.” Shame swamped through her, but Ryan’s face was every bit as red as hers felt.
He blew out a breath. “Mine too.”
“I think everyone’s settling in, anyway,” he said. “Establishing a routine of sorts.” He shrugged. “At least we’re holding things together.”
“Yeah.” But in some ways, she felt the situation was combustible, about to blow apart. As much trouble as they’d had, she couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t glad to be here. She’d loved being around her family and the surprise opportunity to reconnect with Ryan too. “Do you think they’ll ever get along? Our moms?”
He shook his head. “I wish I could say yes, but that somehow seems like a fantasy.”
“I’ll try talking to my mom again tomorrow,” Evita said.
“Same.” He raked a hand through his hair. “To my dad as well.”
“Yeah. Me too.” Evita sighed.
Ryan tapped the doorframe. “Well. Guess I’d better go.”
“Good night, Ryan.”
“See ya, Evita.” She heard Robby’s voice in the hallway.
