Chapter 26
Gramma turns to Vianca. “Did you show Eve her room?”
“Not yet. You’re going to stay in my room,” Vianca tells me. “And I’m bunking with West in the living room.”
“You don’t have to give me your room.”
Vianca waves her hand through the air. “West and I stay up all night anyway when he comes. Popcorn, zombie movies, Twizzlers. It’s a whole thing we do.”
“It is,” Gramma says. “Take her room. You’ll never get any sleep otherwise.”
I think popcorn, zombies, and Twizzlers sound fun.
Vianca shows me to her bedroom where a twin bed with a trapeze sits under a window.
In the corner is a desk and computer and beside that a bookshelf.
An oversized crème fabric chair takes up the other corner with a thick burgundy throw rug underneath it.
It’s all so cozy and wonderful and just the type of room I would have loved to have.
“Dad put your duffel on the bed,” she says. “Make yourself at home and come on out when you’re ready.” With that, she spins her chair and is gone.
“Hey,” West says, coming on in. “What did you think of the grand tour?”
“West, your family is amazing. I can’t believe you grew up in all this love.”
His head tilts in this adorable and curious way that asks why “love” is amazing to me when to him it’s normal. He holds out his hand. “Come on out. Dad’s making his world-famous nachos for Vianca’s birthday.”
Smiling, I take his hand, and he leads me into the kitchen where tropical music fills the air with a fun drum rhythm. Maria sits on a stool at the island, and there’s a lower section to accommodate Vianca’s chair. Mr. Wolf stands at the stove stirring something that smells delicious.
Gramma hits the blender and starts dancing to the rhythm.
We take seats beside Vianca and Maria, and everyone starts talking at once. Vianca and Gramma, West and his dad, Maria and Gramma, then Vianca and West, Mr. Wolf and Maria, then Gramma and West…and on and on it goes, one conversation bumping into another.
I sit quietly, taking it all in, loving it. Every once in a while, someone asks me a question and I answer, then they’re off on another tangent. It’s exactly what a family should be like.
Gramma puts a frothy drink in front of me and winks. “I make the best virgin margaritas around.”
We serve ourselves nachos, and I have to admit, they are the best nachos I’ve ever had. We all eat right here in the kitchen, piled around the island. If it had been me, this would be the best birthday ever.
Eventually, everyone’s done eating, dishes pile in the sink, and we move into the living room. Maria cranks the music louder, and they all start dancing.
Mr. Wolf grabs Maria, and Vianca does some crazy spins in her chair. West dips Gramma, and she curtsies to Mr. Wolf, and on it goes.
I don’t know what to do, so I sort of hover near the wall, smiling, watching all of them, trying to act like I belong but not quite fitting in.
I wonder if this is what an animal feels like in a zoo.
Looking out through the bars at all the people having fun, wondering what it would be like to be out there.
West slides over to me, crooking his finger.
My cheeks warm.
West pulls me up tight against him. “Hey, Blue Eyes.”
He moves with me across the floor, making it so easy to follow. I’m reminded of that time he hummed and slow danced with me on the rooftop.
“No mushy stuff.” Maria pushes between us.
West grabs her hand and the three of us dance together. Gramma joins in, and Vianca, then Mr. Wolf, and we all do some sort of goofy thing in a circle.
Soon, I’m laughing so hard I can’t breathe. It’s just plain fun being silly, and I find myself hoping and wishing for more of these moments with West and his family. The companionship. The friendliness. The warmth. I’ve never known anything like it.
Finally, the music stops and everyone crashes onto the couch and chairs. Vianca opens her birthday presents next, and then we have banana splits—her pick over traditional birthday cake. Soon the sun is setting. I wish I could do this day all over again.
Maria comes out of the bathroom from her bath, grabs a book, and climbs right up into West’s lap. In the overstuffed leather chair, he snuggles her in right beside him, opens the book, and Maria begins reading.
I listen to their rhythm, her first, then him, then back to her. They’ve obviously done this several times. He raises his voice at one particular point, and she giggles and snuggles into his side.
I take in her wet hair, her cloud-patterned pajamas, and his tattooed arm cradling her.
What a lucky girl to have so much love. Her eyelids start to droop, and he continues reading, lowering his voice to accommodate lulling her to sleep.
I continue watching them, warmed to the core by their special moment.
“Okay, sleepyhead, time to put you to bed,” Gramma calls from the kitchen.
“Nooo,” Maria whines. “I’m not tired.”
“I know. I know. Let’s go.”
West picks her up and sits her on her feet. He straightens her pajamas. “I’ll see you tomorrow, cutie.”
Maria hugs him and kisses him on the cheek. “Night, West.” With a yawn, she pads over to hug me too. “Night, Eve.”
I return her embrace, loving the cuddle of it.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes to tuck you in,” Gramma tells her.
“Want some coffee, Eve?” Mr. Wolf asks from the kitchen.
“Sure. Anything I can do to help?”
“Yes, come keep me company.”
West grabs my hand and leads me into the kitchen. We both take seats at the island while Mr. Wolf grinds beans. Vianca’s already here, flipping through a magazine and sipping hot chocolate.
“What’s going on with Maria?” West asks.
His dad looks up from the coffee pot. “Your Aunt Ty did another disappearing act and this time she didn’t come back.” Mr. Wolf turns to me. “My sister would rather party than be a mother.”
“There’s more,” Vianca whispers.
West looks up at his dad who lets out a long sigh. “We found bruises on her.”
Everything in me stills.
West drops his head into his hands.
Gramma comes back into the kitchen, immediately picking up on the mood. “What’s wrong?”
“We told West about Maria,” Mr. Wolf says.
Gramma shakes her head. “That girl’s seen more tragedy in her tiny six years than most people do in a lifetime.”
If only they knew…and suddenly I feel compelled to assure them she’s going to be okay. Gently, I say, “Yes, but the rest of her life will be one filled with safety and love.”
West lifts his head and looks at me. Really looks at me to the point I feel it in my very core. Then he reaches over and simply takes my hand, and with that gesture, he silently tells me that he hears me. He hears me.