Chapter 19 #2
“Maya is boy crazy,” my mom said. “At least Jorge hides stuff like that from us. She tells us about every single boy she finds cute in her class. I think your father’s vein is going to pop out of his forehead any day now.”
“What do you think?” Maya trudged out of the dressing room in an ill-fitting dress. It was nothing but silver sequins and three sizes too big.
“I like it,” my mom lied. “No one else will have it.”
“Because no one else is shopping at TJ Maxx to get their dance for homecoming.” Without another word, she stomped back into the dressing room.
“Mamí, what’s going on?”
“Hormones,” she said with a sigh. “It happened to you, too, you know. Always snapping at me—”
“Mom, let me give you guys some money.”
My mom straightened, lifting her chin. “This is inappropriate.”
“There’s obviously something going on here,” I pressed. “Last time I was up there for dinner, you and dad were working overtime and I saw the stack of bills. Maya has been calling me for money to go out—”
“She’s been what?”
“Please, Mom. I’m worried.”
She was quiet for a moment, her eyes downcast. I knew she was perhaps a little embarrassed about all of this. But not knowing was eating me up inside.
“Your father lost his job.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. I played back the night of Carlos’s birthday: My dad had come back later than the store was open, not even in his uniform.
Nowhere in New York was cheap. ConEd, the common gas and electricity company here, charged up the wazoo, rent only kept increasing, and groceries continued to get more expensive.
I figured they must’ve been struggling, but if he’d lost his job, it was worse than I thought.
“What’s he been doing since?”
“Looking for a job. Ubering,” she said gently. “I’ve been picking up more hours. It’s just a little bit of a rough patch—”
“Mom, let me help.”
“Hijita, that’s not your job.” She shook her head vehemently. “I provide for my children, not the other way around. And with everything up in the air with the store, I won’t take your money.”
“Mamí,” I said, pulling her hands into mine. “You provided for me. Let me help you. We’re coming up with a plan to save the store, don’t worry about me.”
Tears dropped from her eyes, but she quickly swiped them away. “Of course I want to buy her a new, nice dress. But we just can’t afford it.”
I pulled her into a hug, resting my head on her shoulder, just like I did when I was younger. “Then let me. Before you say no, everything’s going to turn around soon enough. Let me help you out until they turn around for you, too.”
Before she could respond, Maya stepped out of the dressing room. She was wearing her socks and a tight black dress that was a bit too short. As a sister, my job was to be supportive so I tried to keep the wince off my face.
My mom, however, did not hold back, even though she was crying just a moment ago. Peruvian moms were able to check their emotions to keep their daughters from acting too old too soon.
She pointed her finger at the dressing room and said, “?Qué estás pensando? No.”
Maya opened her mouth to respond, but at another wag of my mom’s fingers, she stomped back inside.
“Let me talk to her and we’ll go somewhere else, okay?” I whispered to her, squeezing her hand. I entered the dressing room and heard Maya’s pissed grumbling to herself.
“Hermanita,” I said quietly, knocking on the door. “Can I come in?” The door swung open and I stepped in, her clothes on the floor and dresses hanging from every hook. She was still wearing the skintight dress.
“Mom is being so unfair,” she whined. “This is the only good dress in the entire store. Besides, Brian said his favorite color is black.”
I frowned. “Who’s Brian? I thought you were going to the dance with Jesse?”
She waved me off. “Jesse ended up being a little too into Game of Thrones. It was all we’d talk about. I know way too much about what those dragons get up to if you know what I mean.”
I bit back a smile and said, “I don’t think there’s going to be anything here for you.”
She shot me a dark look. “I’m not dumb, Ella, I know why we’re here.”
“Yeah, well, Mom found an extra hundred bucks in her purse.”
Maya straightened and whipped around to face me. “Really?”
I nodded. “What do you say we walk around and see if we can find you a dress?”
Maya bit her lip, looking at the door as if our mom could hear her, and said, “SoHo can be really expensive. I don’t think a hundred bucks could cover it.”
I frowned. “Hermanita, you shouldn’t be worrying about that stuff.”
“It’s hard not to,” she mumbled, looking down at her dress. “I’m not little like Carlito or oblivious like Jorge. I see the stack of bills on the kitchen table. We never get anything name brand. My room is right next to theirs. I can hear all the conversations.”
My heart cracked. As the eldest daughter, I was often a third parent to my siblings.
I tried to save them from the burdens I had to bear.
My parents weren’t very tech savvy and left all their papers lying around and their passwords were all the same.
In high school, I altered my paychecks so they got a quarter of my pay.
I lied and said we had a free lunch day at school too often so my parents would save their ten bucks.
College had never been an option for me until Leo stepped in because of all the whispers I wasn’t supposed to hear.
My job was never over, though. I couldn’t let them down just because I’d moved out.
“Maya,” I said softly. “There will be a time in your life when you’ll worry about this. When they’ll rope you into these conversations and you won’t be able to ignore it. But they’re whispering for a reason. You have time to be a kid and not worry about all of this, so take it.”
“I feel bad—”
I covered her mouth. “Maya, trust me. Have I led you wrong before?” She shot me a look. “Okay, besides the sleepover fiasco.”
Most Hispanic parents had mixed feelings over sleepovers, but our parents were a hard no.
Maya’s childhood best friend had begged Maya to ask our parents and I had encouraged her to try, too.
They lived at the end of the block and I didn’t think it’d be that big of a deal.
But it resulted in an hour-long lecture where at the end nearly everyone was crying
“Trust me on this one, okay? Let me worry about how much the dress costs and all of that. Change out of this dress and let’s go somewhere way cooler, okay?”
Maya gave me a small smile and nodded.
If I lost The Last Page, I’d only be hurting my family.
It was my job to make sure my siblings had everything that I didn’t. This was my priority. Nothing and no one else.