Make Your Home Among Strangers

—But you’re here for this, she said, her grip tighter. Come tonight, keep me company. I have to be up the whole night for the prayer.

 

Her grip loosened and her hand slid down my wrist, her curled fingers hooking mine.

 

—I promise it’s not scary, she said. It’s really powerful. We all feel so strong together. You’ll see it. Come, I’ll wait for you to get your things.

 

I tried to hide my mouth from Leidy’s view, but the apartment was so small, I knew she could hear me. I said, Okay.

 

Mami laced her fingers with mine and squeezed so hard my fingertips throbbed.

 

—I’m going to shower, she said. I need to shower. Get ready fast, okay?

 

Even from all those feet away, I saw over my mom’s shoulder Leidy’s nostrils flaring, her head jutting forward as if ready to ram me.

 

—I’m happy you’re here for this, Mami said, reaching for my hair and pulling it over my shoulder, fixing it a little with her fingers. I’m proud you’ll be part of this with me.

 

—Of course, I said. Me too.

 

I caught only the tip of Leidy’s ponytail snapping out of view as she ran away, the bedroom door slamming a second later.

 

Mami didn’t even turn around. She only said, Your sister’s got the baby.

 

She hugged me then, pulled me into her and rubbed my shoulders. She let one hand slide down to the small of my back, where she rubbed a wide, warm circle—a motion she’d always done when we were sad or sick and bent over a toilet, a small solace as our bodies convulsed with a stomach flu or shook with despair at the way we’d let some stupid boy hurt our feelings. I felt my back rest at the familiar touch, at the comfort her hand there still sent through me. She gave me a kiss on my forehead as she pressed one last circle and then let me go.

 

—The baby keeps her so busy but that’s how it is, isn’t it? she said as she walked to the bathroom.

 

Once the water in the shower was running, Leidy came out and went for my arm as I stepped around her and into our room to pack some things. I smacked her hand away.

 

—Don’t play around with this shit, she said.

 

—I’m not, I said like a reflex. Dante was asleep in his crib, but I was the only one who lowered her voice. What was I supposed to tell her? I said.

 

She looked at the crib, then snorted through her nose.

 

—In case you’re wondering, she said, this is why I don’t tell you anything.

 

I dropped to her bed, which still held the chaos of my accidental nap, and stared up at the ceiling, the texture of it blinking back with hints of glitter to make it seem nicer than it really was. She walked to her dresser and grabbed her purse, slung it over her shoulder. Then she picked up Dante from his crib. He murmured but managed to stay asleep.

 

I pulled at the crown of my hair the way Ethan would—my forehead was shellacked in sweat left over from the conversation with my mom—and said, Leidy. Come on. Please don’t be mad at me about this. Do I really have a choice?

 

But she was at the bedroom door already, Dante perched backward on her hip with his limbs dangling away from her, his eyes closed. I jumped up and followed her through the apartment, said, Where are you going, when she opened the front door, the exposed fluorescent tube lights in the apartment’s hallway buzzing low under my voice.

 

—Don’t worry about it, you’ve got enough going on, she said.

 

After the slam came Dante’s crying, high and receding as Leidy bolted down the stairs. I ran to the window: Leidy strapped Dante into his car seat, then stomped to the driver’s side. She rested her head on the steering wheel for a second and then turned the key in the ignition. She didn’t look up at the window, not even once. Behind me, the shower shut off, and I scrambled to my room, to the things I was supposedly gathering.

 

I dumped everything in my book bag out onto Leidy’s bed, then put certain things back inside: my toothbrush, my wallet, a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt for sleeping in, underwear, a small towel of Dante’s I grabbed from the dresser. Focusing on packing for the sleepover aspect of the vigil made what I’d be doing that night feel more normal. This was what I’d come for—to face this head-on and drag my mom away from it. The word infiltrate hovered in my mind, somehow feeling more cumbersome than the betray betray betray my dad had thrown around a year before. I tossed my deodorant back in the bag. I looked at my pillow and wondered if I could cram it in there.

 

Mami came into my room with her hair wet, but she wore the same black shirt and loose black pants she had on before. Did Leidy leave? she said. I told her yes, but Mami didn’t seem at all worried. She looked at me—she’d redone her eyeliner—and said, Don’t be so worried, your sister knows what she’s doing. I let myself believe her, made myself remember everything Leidy had kept from me over these last weeks. Mami checked the buttons on her blouse and said, Ready? And I slung my bag over my shoulder and moved and we were out on the street, the moon low in the sky, Mami not even looking twice at the vacant parking spot, our steps falling into the same rhythm.

 

 

 

 

 

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