I try three separate times to start up a conversation with Nico during the ride to my aunt’s lakefront house near the northern part of town. I was hoping he would weigh in on what summer camp he wants to attend or what flavor cake he would like for his birthday party, but he completely ignores me. He even goes as far as putting on his superhero-themed headphones while I’m speaking.
Not even my aunt, who always manages to make Nico smile and laugh, is able to pull him out of his bad mood when we arrive at her house. He is so caught up in his thoughts that he almost forgets to give her a proper greeting until she reminds him.
With a reluctant groan, he kisses her cheek before turning away from both of us.
“What happened?” Josefina watches Nico retreat into the guest bedroom with his overnight bag. Her dark, professionally dyed hair and glowing tan skin make her look younger than her fifty-seven years. If it weren’t for her rare scowl emphasizing the few wrinkles surrounding her brown eyes and mouth, I would guess her to be around forty.
I brush my hand through my unruly hair. “He had an accident last night and had to go to the emergency room.”
“I wasn’t talking about his stitches.” She stares at me with a perfectly arched brow and her arms crossed tightly against her chest.
I release a deep sigh. “It’s a long story.”
“Perfect. You can share it while I cut your hair.” She drags me into the kitchen. The sight of tamales cooking on the stove makes my mouth water and my stomach grumble.
“Haircut first. Dinner after.” She pulls out a stool for me before gathering the supplies.
She lays out a few combs, a spray bottle full of water, and a pair of scissors. The silver clippers she plugs into the socket gleam from the sun shining through the window overlooking Lake Wisteria, taunting me.
Sometimes, I’m tempted to ask her to shave off my short beard, but then I’m quick to shake off the thought. Once upon a time, I shaved at least twice a week, but now, taking care of my beard feels like a massive effort. If it weren’t for Nico hating when it reaches a certain length, I doubt I’d bother with trimming it.
My aunt gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “No te preocupes. I’m only using those to clean up your edges.”
That loosens some of the tension in my shoulders. Josefina has been styling my hair since a middle school haircut went terribly wrong, so I trust her not to completely botch it. She might tease me about finding a good barber since I can afford one, but I know she secretly loves helping me, so I haven’t bothered replacing her.
No te preocupes: Don’t worry.
Like Julian and me, she loves feeling useful, even with something simple like cutting my hair.
There is nothing I want more than to make my aunt happy for the rest of her days. She deserves it after all she has done for me, including taking me in and raising me like her own son when my father passed away soon after my mother had.
I take a seat at the counter and wait as she sets herself up behind the barstool.
“¿Dime lo que está pasando?” She picks up the spray bottle.
“I let Ellie go.”
My aunt aims the nozzle at my face and shoots at my eyes.
“Hey!” I wipe the droplets away with a scowl. “What was that for?”
“How could you do that to her?”
“How could I do that to her? What about what she did to me? And to Nico?”
Her brows rise. “What do you mean?”
I explain everything that has happened in the last twenty-four hours while my aunt combs through my hair. When I finish, I peek over my shoulder.
“You’re right. She shouldn’t have kept Nico’s condition a secret.”
¿Dime lo que está pasando?: Tell me what’s going on.
I didn’t realize how much I needed my feelings validated until now because, with Nico treating me like public enemy number one, I was questioning if I made the right choice.
“I know,” I say with a sigh.
“Pero…” She lets the sentence hang.
“Don’t tell me you’re defending her now,” I mutter under my breath.
My aunt swaps the comb for the pair of scissors and shoots me a knowing look. “No. What she did was wrong, but I’m sure she had a good reason to risk her job for a secret like that.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “No reason will ever be good enough.”
“For you, no, but for Nico, it probably was, which is why he asked her not to say anything.”
I sit with my aunt’s comment for the rest of the day and question why my son hid the truth from me in the first place, and worse, why Ellie agreed with him.
The Kids’ Table group chat I share with Julian and the Muñoz sisters chimes from three new text notifications. I consider ignoring them and taking my horse out on the trail like I had planned, but curiosity wins.
I pat Penelope’s side and ask her to hold on a few minutes before pulling out my phone.
Pero…: But…
LILY
You fired Ellie?!
DAHLIA
What? No way.
LILY
Yes.
ME
Who told you?
My aunt promised not to say anything until this weekend, when Nico and I finally attend Sunday lunch after spending the last month filling our time with playdates, so I’m not sure how Lily found out.
I don’t have a chance to consider a list of likely suspects because my phone beeps again.
LILY
Doesn’t matter. Focus on the subject at hand.
DAHLIA
I liked her.
LILY
Me too. She made the best chocolate chip cookies.
DAHLIA
And homemade bread and pasta and pizza. Seriously, the woman has more recipes than Betty Crocker.
LILY
Don’t forget about her pozole. If I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed she was Mexican too because it’s THAT good.
LILY
Dare I say it was better than Josefina’s.
*Lily unsent a message.*
DAHLIA
Slick.
DAHLIA
Too bad I already took a screenshot.
Lily follows up with a water gun emoji pointed at a smiling face.
JULIAN
You two do realize this is a group chat, right?
They both reply with a single “yes” text message.
ME
I can tell you’re both really concerned about why she was fired.
My cousin sends me a private text instead of replying in the group.
JULIAN
I take it that conversation with Ellie went well?
ME
Unfortunately, it was cut short by Nico being rushed to the hospital.
Julian’s name and contact photo pop up on my screen. I battle between letting it go to voicemail and answering before choosing the latter.
My cousin skips past hello and asks, “Is he okay?”
“Yeah. Just needed some stitches on his chin, no thanks to Ellie.”
“Thank God. What happened?” he asks in that no-bullshit tone of his.
I tell him the same story, although I go into greater detail than I had with my aunt, mentioning that I had taken his advice and opened up about how I was feeling, only to find out she betrayed my trust.
“Damn.” Julian whistles to himself.
“Yup.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Find someone to replace her after we come back from our trip.”
“Hm.”
“What?”
“Are you sure the trip is still happening?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because Nico sent me a text not too long ago asking me if I was free and interested in going to Hawaii. I thought he was joking, but now it all makes sense.”
I scrub my face with a curse. “Whose phone is he borrowing?”
“Ma’s.”
My drawn-out sigh is one only a parent can muster. “I told her to monitor him for a reason.”
“Yeah, but you know how she likes to be a cool grandma.” My cousin laughs. “Anyway, Nico also let me know that his birthday party is canceled until his nanny is rehired.”
“He did what?”
“Dahlia and Lily got a text too. Oh, and you might want to check if his mother got one as well. Not that she was ever going to come anyway since she hasn’t made it to his last two.”
The base of my neck throbs from an incoming headache. “Fuck me.”
“Speaking of the little devil,” he says, “he just asked me if we could take my private jet instead of yours. Should I say yes? I’ve always wanted to visit Hawaii, and now I have the perfect reason to.”
I rub my pounding temple with my thumb. “Unbelievable.”
“You’ve got to admit it’s impressive how smart he is.”
“Yeah. If only he applied that same effort toward his homework.”
Julian lets out a soft chuckle. “What are you going to do with him?”
“I have no idea.”
Much to my annoyance, it turns out Nico isn’t the only one missing Ellie. I do too, although I never thought I would. Despite my best efforts to forget about her, it’s impossible with all the little reminders she left around the house.
A hoodie forgotten in the dryer. The stainless-steel water bottle, which she called her emotional support bottle, left to dry on the dish rack. Her guitar abandoned on the coffee table, untouched since Nico’s accident.
The last few nights, I have gone downstairs expecting to hear the sound of a guitar playing, only to be met with silence.
Perhaps if I get rid of the very reminders of her, then the guilt weighing on my shoulders will disappear as well, which is why I make a split-second decision to text her.
ME
You left your guitar and a few things here. Do you want to meet me somewhere so I can give them to you?
I spend the next five minutes waiting for a reply, only to find myself annoyed when she leaves me on read.
ME
Nico claimed your water bottle as his own now, so good luck trying to get it back.
I groan at how pathetic I sound.
To stop myself from texting her again, I busy myself with painting a new miniature figurine I designed. My latest creation took me two weeks of trial and error, and I nearly broke my thirty-thousand-dollar machine in the process of replicating Nico’s latest favorite superhero, but the stress was worth it.
Once my hand aches and my eyes droop from exhaustion, I shut the desk lamp off and head to my bedroom, checking my phone for any new messages. While the Muñoz-Lopez group chat has twenty missed texts and the Kids’ Table group chat has ten additional unread ones, my text thread with Ellie remains quiet.
I have no right to feel disappointed at her ignoring me, but I do, and I’m not entirely sure what to do with that.
