“Tatum, I’m not sure about this.”
“Belén actually did give us permission to go out. She just didn’t know what I had in mind.” I listed for Blanche the same reasons we should go that I’d given Tilly. “It’s better this way. Bonus, I’ve now told a trusted adult where I’m going just in case something should go wrong.”
She nodded slowly. By the lines in her forehead, I could see how hard it was for her to choose between Belén and me. “I have one condition.”
“What’s that?” I was ready to agree to anything if she was willing to give us the green light.
“You talk things out with your father when he gets home next week. Tell him, and Belén, how you’ve been feeling. Show them the work you’ve completed and your plans to do more.”
I knew she was going to say that. And even I could admit it was a good idea, in theory, but in practice? “I see what you’re trying to do here, and I appreciate the thought, but it might not do any good. I’m pretty sure they’ve already made up their mind about me.”
Blanche gave me a look that was unmistakably an effort to make me see how stubborn I was being.
“Fine. I’ll try.”
“Nothing is immovable, Tatum. Everything is negotiable.”
I smirked and nodded at the TV. “Did you learn that from The Golden Girls?”
She smiled back. “It might have been The Facts of Life.”
The morning of Sol Jam, I got up early to make sure I had all the chores on my list completed in time to get cleaned up before we hit the road.
The list, written on Belén’s signature stationary, read:
? Clean all bathrooms
? Vacuum all carpeted floors
? Sweep all hardwood floors
? Dust baseboards, crown moldings, and ceiling fans
I gulped. This was going to take forever. I opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out the caddy of cleaning supplies. Might as well start with the messiest part first and tackle the bathrooms. As I was pulling on the floppy yellow rubber gloves, Tilly knocked softly on the door frame.
“Morning.”
“Good morning,” I said, waving a gloved hand.
“Look at what I just found slipped under my door.” Tilly held out a folded piece of paper.
Matilda,
A little magic for your adventure. Be good to each other.
All My Love,
Abuela
“What does she mean, magic?” I asked.
Tilly revealed an envelope in the hand she’d kept behind her back. “She left us a gift certificate for pedicures. And the spa happens to be on our way to the concert.”
I’d never been to a spa before, never had a pedicure, never had my hair done other than the occasional trim. Belén hadn’t been the kind of mother figure who told Tilly and me that we were beautiful inside and out, nor had she filled our heads with dreams of a fairy-tale ending. Now I understood why, but I was grateful for Blanche and her ways of making us feel special on a special night just the same.
“That was so sweet. She’s the actual best,” I murmured.
Tilly nodded. “I haven’t spent enough time with her this summer. That definitely needs to change.”
“Let’s take her out to tea or something before she leaves,” I suggested, pulling the toilet brush from the supply caddy. “Do you think we’ll have enough time to go to the spa after I get all this cleaning done?” I wanted to make good on the deal and do what Belén had asked, but hanging out with Tilly and getting my toenails done sounded awfully tempting.
Tilly reached down and grabbed the feather duster from the caddy. “We will if I take half. How about you do the bathrooms and the vacuuming, and I’ll take the dusting and the sweeping?”
“Really?” I felt my mouth pop open in surprise.
“Really.”
My heart almost exploded into little pieces all over the tile floor. “Thank you,” I said shyly.
“You would do the same for me,” she replied, tapping me on the head with the duster. “Let’s get a move on. And make sure it’s spotless.”
I stuck my tongue out at her. “You are so your mother’s daughter.”
Tilly just shrugged and did a chassé step out of the bathroom.
Buoyed by Tilly’s selflessness and the growing anticipation of the event to come—or maybe it was the fumes from the disinfectant—my mood went from a five to a ten as I sprayed the mirror and buffed away the water spots.
In fact, my summer had gone from a five—okay, a zero—to something a whole lot better over the past few weeks. Sure, I’d racked up a criminal charge, but I’d managed to start my own business, complete a handful of jobs, and earn actual money. Ashlyn and I may have had a small, minuscule, infinitesimal misunderstanding, but it seemed we were on the road to reconciliation, which, if I was really lucky, would begin at Sol Jam. Ash and I hadn’t exchanged any more emails, but I knew she’d make good on her invitation to see each other. The truest part of me needed to believe that, to believe that she was ready to accept that all I wanted to do was protect her.
Blanche had been a glittering, lovely surprise. I found myself hoping more than once that she’d extend her visit and just stay forever. I may never have a real, maternal relationship with my stepmother, but my stepgrandmother was awesome, and I wasn’t going to take her generosity for granted. She made me want to keep going, keep making good choices, even when the deck was stacked against me. She’d also given me some insight into how Belén ticked, which I was starting to see was worth its weight in gold. I wasn’t sure exactly how I’d use it, but I’d promised Blanche I’d try. And I would.
“Is there any more dusting spray?” Tilly called from downstairs. I checked the cabinet and found a new can. I wiped the last of the counter clean, picked up the caddy of supplies, and headed downstairs to my next bathroom.
“Here you go,” I said, handing the can to Tilly, who was surveying the living room.
“Thanks.”
I glided a finger across the glass-smooth coffee table. “I think you missed a spot.”
“Is my mother rubbing off on you?” she asked with a laugh.
Making jokes with Tilly, hanging out and giggling together, and going on a sort-of road trip—these were the things I’d always dreamed of doing with a sister, but had never imagined the one who lived with me could be a viable option. Tilly was definitely on my list of good things.
There was still a gaping trench between my father and me—an ocean, in fact—but I’d also promised Blanche that I’d talk with him. He was my dad. He had to love me, no matter what, right? Blanche’s belief in me gave me some hope that my dad would let go of his disappointment and start to see for himself that I had simply gotten stuck in a bad situation, not made a bad choice.
Taking a short break from my chores, I grabbed my phone to dash off a quick email.
Hi Dad,
Just wanted to tell you I’m glad you’re coming home soon. I can’t wait to tell you more about what I’ve been up to all summer. It might be a long conversation—brace yourself. I miss you.
Love,