The Unlikelies

I reluctantly climbed the steps to the stage turned dance floor and let Ramon attempt to teach me how to dance. My friends made fun of me from their table, until they were all dragged up there. I felt like I was finally getting the hang of it when the lights blinked on and off and a tiny lady with long braids asked everyone to be seated.


“Where is Javi?” Gordie said on the way to the table.

“Val said he’s been really sick the past couple days,” I said.

“I’m not saying he had to lug boxes into truck beds. The dude could have shown up to be nice.” Gordie had a point.

A bowlegged man in jeans and work boots turned off the music and the crowd finally quieted down. The woman onstage was a social worker at the migrant center. She talked in Spanish and Gordie translated for us, because even though we were in the same Spanish classes, Gordie Harris was proficient and all I could say was Do you like to play tennis or football?

“Gracias,” the woman said.

“That means thank you,” Gordie said slowly.

“Yeah, just wait until we’re in a room full of Farsi speakers,” I said.

Val was a different person than she had been in front of the homegrown heroes luncheon crowd. She thanked the community for supporting her grandparents and her parents through difficult circumstances and credited the true heroes in the room, the men and women who worked so hard to make a better life for their children.

“Now what is she saying?” I elbowed Gordie, who was smiling and saying, “Aww.”

He stopped to listen. “And now she’s thanking us for our help and support.”

We all blew kisses up to the stage.

“Do you think her dad likes us yet?” I whispered to Alice when he shook our hands enthusiastically after the event.

“He should,” she said. “We’re a hell of a lot better than Javi and Mike.”





As much as I wanted to take Gordie up on his invitation to hang out in his basement, I resisted a final Just come over already. I can’t stop thinking about you text and stayed to help Val break down boxes and organize her clipboard for the next collection.

Alice left early to visit Izzy, and Jean had to finish getting ready for his Tiny Art Show. It was just Val and me on the steps of the church, sipping soda and resting our aching feet under the dim light of the cloud-obscured moon.

“You did it, Valeria, goddess of school supplies.” I clapped my hands. “I’m so proud of you.”

She bent down and played with her shoelace. “It wasn’t enough. I could have done so much more,” she said softly.

“Oh, Val, don’t say that.”

I tried to read her face. Her lips twitched back and forth like a rabbit’s nose.

And then the tsunami came. She sobbed and sobbed and couldn’t get words out. I put my arm around her petite frame and handed her clumps of receipts from a box to wipe her nose until the tears finally stopped.

“These families are my friends, my community, and they’re struggling so bad.”

I nodded.

“They get threatened, treated like garbage. They can’t earn enough to get ahead, and they’re constantly worried about their families back home.”

“You know, Val, we could use some of the diamonds to help the community.” I knew it was an impulsive thing to say. But I meant it.

She looked at me and smiled. “That’s so nice of you, but let’s wait, okay?” She took my hand and squeezed it. “I think we need an actual plan, not just to throw diamonds at random people here. But thank you so much for offering, Sadie. That means a lot to me.”

She stood and picked up her clipboard. “Sorry. Tonight was just really emotional for me.”

“You’re an amazing human being, Valeria.”

“It takes one to know one, Sadie.”

I stood up and took her hand and hugged her for a long time.

We were quiet on the way home, drained and ready for sleep. Right before she dropped me off, Val said, “Sooooo. When were you going to tell me you’re sleeping with Gordie?”

“I’m not sleeping with Gordie.”

“Yet.”

“Okay, yet.” I smiled and closed the door behind me.





I didn’t know what possessed me to check Ella’s mother’s Facebook page at midnight after a very long day. I should have taken a shower, painted my scraggly nails, slathered vitamin E oil on the monster tail, and gone to sleep. But instead, I logged on to NeighborCare. The same sad little dollar amount sat there, stagnant, next to the picture of Ella and her weary grandma.

I logged on to Ella’s mom’s Facebook page. At first, it didn’t register. Then I felt sick. And the sick feeling stayed with me deep into the night.

There was a picture of Ella’s mom in a tight dress and heels holding shopping bags from a clothing store with the caption Momma goin’ out tonite! And a picture of Ella’s mom in front of the liquor store holding two bottles of expensive tequila with the caption It’s goin’ down! And a picture of a group of women, clones of Ella’s mom, sticking their heads out of a cheesy white limo with the caption In yur dreams!

How could she? How could she spend that money on shitty clothes and liquor? How was she not saving it for Ella? I felt violated. And furious. And so, so sad.





The next morning I sulked around the farm stand mad at the world. I couldn’t stomach the endless stream of city people throwing credit cards at me like I was invisible and then running off with their flowers and twelve-dollar hunks of cheese.

I couldn’t believe how delusional I had been, thinking Ella’s mom would shower her baby with baby things.

I probably shouldn’t have called Shay when I was in a miserable mood.

“Hey, Sadie. What’s up?”

“I have a random question and can you just answer it honestly, please?”

“Yeah. What is it? You’re making me nervous.”

“Why did you let Gordie Harris think I had a date for Parker’s Valentine’s Day party when you knew how much I liked him back then?”

Silence.

“Shay?”

“I’m trying to remember what you’re even talking about. Where is this even coming from?”

I took a deep breath.

“Gordie Harris told me he saw you in CVS and asked you if he should ask me to Parker’s party and you turned around and took off. But I wasn’t going with anyone.” My throat ached. “You knew how much I liked that kid.” I couldn’t hold back the tears.

Silence.

“Okay, I have no recollection of that whatsoever.”

“I just want to know why you did it.”

“I don’t remember running into Gordie Harris. But you know what, Sadie? I don’t have time to sit around and reflect on it. I am completely overwhelmed. And instead of asking me how I’m doing and helping me deal with the fact that I am not dealing well at all, you just want to tell me how great your new life is with Pooch and Gordie Harris and some random bearded guy.”

She took a breath.

“I’m glad, Sadie. I’m glad you’re having so much fun. But I’m not. I just really need to go right now.”

And she was gone.

I sat there feeling like a horrible human being. Because Shay was right. I had been fixating on the idea that Shay was blowing me off without thinking about her at all.

Carrie Firestone's books