“Gracias, Antonio. Anything you can do.” Mamá wrapped the phone cord around her hand. “It’s just that it’s been over twenty-four hours and they haven’t told us anything. We’ve been so worried.”
I looked at Mamá’s eyes. There seemed to be a sense of relief in them. I waited for her to finish.
“No, no. Don’t worry. I won’t say a word. I know he has his pride. Yes, I’ll make sure to tell her. Adiós.” Mamá hung up and placed a hand over her heart.
“Well? What did he say?” I asked.
“Your uncle talked to some friends he has on the police force. He says Papá’s fine. That they haven’t officially charged him with anything yet.” Mamá ran her fingers through her hair. “It’ll all be fine. He’ll be home soon.”
“He will? When? Today?” Frankie ran down the stairs.
“I’m not sure, mi hijo. But soon. And Lucía, Antonio also apologized for not bringing you home from the dance. Said he didn’t know that you weren’t feeling well.” Mamá gave me a small smile. “You must’ve given him quite a scare when he realized you were gone.” She looked down as she went to twist her wedding ring and realized it wasn’t there. “I keep forgetting.” She shook her head.
“I’m sorry they took it,” I said.
Mamá put an arm around me. “Nothing for you to be sorry about. It’s not your fault. Antonio even thinks they might return it. Although whatever we had hidden away they’ll probably keep … just to prove a point.”
I looked down. It was my fault. I’d confided in Ivette. Even letting it slip that Papá had hidden things in the floor. Guilt ate me up inside. But how could I tell my parents that this was all because of me?
Mamá tugged at her ear and touched her diamond stud earring. “Look. Thanks to you, I still have these.”
They were the only valuables the soldiers didn’t take. I was glad she’d let me wear them to the dance.
“I’m gonna check the mail,” Frankie announced.
Mamá nodded and picked up a broom that lay against the wall. She started sweeping the foyer and porch.
“Maybe you should take the earrings off,” I said. “What if someone sees you?”
She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. If the government wants to take them, they will. But for now, I’ll wear them. Your father will love to see that I have them on.”
“Hey, Lucy, there’s a note for you,” Frankie said coming back inside.
“For me?”
“Yeah, it’s from Ivette.”
“I don’t want it. Throw it away.”
Mamá stopped sweeping. “Lucía, I know you’re upset. But Ivette’s been a good friend to you. She called three times yesterday. We can’t blame her for what her mother thinks.”
I could certainly blame her. And if Mamá knew what she’d done, then she’d understand why I was never going to talk to her again.
“She told me yesterday that she was leaving today with the brigades,” Mamá said.
“Mmm-hmm.”
“You know that can’t be her idea. It has to be her parents’. I’m sure fashion is not a priority for the brigadistas.”
“So?”
“Don’t you want to talk to her before she leaves? She’s probably nervous, and it may be a while before you can see her again.”
“Fine.” I snatched the note from Frankie’s hand. “Let me see what she says.”
“You don’t have to be so rude!” Frankie shouted as I ran up the stairs.
In the quiet of my room, I opened the envelope and read the letter.
Dear Lucy,
I’m sorry for everything that happened to your family. I know you think I had something to do with it, but I promise that I didn’t. I’m leaving for Varadero with the brigades in a few hours and I was hoping to talk to you. If you get this message in time, please call me.
Your friend,
Ivette
I put the note on the bed. Maybe Ivette hadn’t betrayed us. Maybe she was telling the truth. But then how did the soldiers know to look under the tiles? I paced around the room. Frankie had been sick in bed the whole time, so he couldn’t have told anyone. Mamá and Papá hadn’t said anything, either. Who else could it be?
The front door creaked as it closed. I grabbed the paper and walked downstairs. Mamá and Frankie had gone outside, and the black hallway phone seemed to wait for my decision.
If I could slip up and tell Ivette about Papá hiding the valuables, maybe she’d accidentally told someone. She always loved to gossip. But then why not just admit it? Or at least give us a warning so we could move the stuff?
Frankie’s voice filtered into the room through the open window. “Can’t we see Papá even if he’s in jail?” he asked Mamá.
I looked at Ivette’s note one more time. My decision was made. I crumpled up the paper and threw my friendship away.
