Page 17 of A Dish Best Served Hot

Rosie’s eyes rounded. “Oops. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about that.”

Four dark heads turned in Leo’s direction.

“About what?” Kamilah asked in that, “well, well, well,” voice that only siblings could use to maximum effect.

“That we saw—”

A wet rag was slapped onto Rosie’s face, cutting her off.

“You have cherry goo all over you,” Leo said as he scrubbed at her face and used his palm to cover her mouth.

“Taking your four-year-old niece with you to stalk one of your girlfriends.” Kamilah shook her head in mock reprove. “I am appalled. At the very least you should’ve gotten her the coloring book first so she wouldn’t know what was going on.” She turned to Rosie and leaned in like one comadre getting gossip from another. “Who did you see?”

Rosie couldn’t answer because she was busy trying to pry Leo’s hand away from her mouth.

“Say one word, you little traitor, and I will never take you to get ice cream at our special place again,” Leo whispered loudly.

Rosie nodded and he let go.

“Guess what else happened today! Ms. Kirkland left during nap time and never came back. Then Mrs. Galván, the principal, came at the end of the day and told us that tomorrow we’re getting a new teacher!”

Exclamations of shock and disbelief arose from all around.

Then Rosie’s face fell and her shoulders slumped. “I think she left because of me. Because I wouldn’t talk to her.”

It was a mind-boggling situation. Saint’s chatterbox daughter would not talk at school. As soon as they hit the school grounds she clammed up completely and would not say a word until she was back with her family. Saint didn’t understand it. No one did. But one thing he knew for sure was that this was one hundred percent not Rosie’s fault.

He scooped her off the chair and held her close. “No, mi amor. She didn’t leave because of you.”

The truth was that Ms. Kirkland had probably left because of him. She’d been after him all year about Rosie’s silence and even though he’d done everything she suggested, she still treated him like a deadbeat dad. Never mind that Saint frequently worked overtime to keep a roof over his daughter’s head and food in her stomach. Never mind that his immediate family had been integral parts of Rosie’s upbringing since the moment he’d brought her home to Chicago just shy of her first birthday. Because Saint wasn’t there dropping Rosie off and picking her up every day, because he couldn’t abandon everything and spend his days in class with his daughter, because he couldn’t force her to engage in lessons, he was a shitty parent who couldn’t be bothered to care about his daughter’s education.

Her disdain for him had been clear in every interaction. After she’d tried to get his daughter evaluated for a bunch of learning disorders without his agreement, Saint had finally had enough. He’d gone to the director of the community center in charge of the charter school and filed a complaint. Ms. Kirkland would’ve been informed of it in the last few days. It was probably the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“I don’t know what that teacher’s problem is,” Leo said. “When I was in school, my teachers would’ve paid good money for me to sit nicely and not talk.”

“I’ll pay you money to not talk,” Kamilah offered.

Leo used his middle finger to rub an imaginary stain off the bar while making eye contact with their sister.

“Leo,” Saint warned.

“Come on, Rosie,” Kamilah said, holding a hand out to his daughter. “Let’s go show Tío Liam how you learned to do cartwheels in gym.”

Rosie wiggled to get out of Saint’s grip. “We gotta go outside because I still bump into stuff inside.”

“I bet I can do more cartwheels than you can,” Kamilah challenged her niece as they walked away, their voices slowly fading the farther they got.

“No way,” Rosie exclaimed. “You’re too big. You gotta be little like me to do ’em right.”

“I bet you ten dollars.”

“Okay,” she agreed readily. A beat later she said, “Hey, Tití?”

“What?”

“Can I borrow ten dollars?”

Kamilah barked out a laugh. “How are you going to try to give me back my own money?”

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