Page 106 of The Right Garza
Chapter THIRTY-TWO
“I miss them so much.”
Lexi
“Read us another one, Aunt Lexi!”
Anoomphhleaves me as Uncle Franco’s youngest spawn dives onto my belly like I’m a freaking mattress, while the others laugh like it’s the funniest thing.
I slam the book shut and roll her off me. “That’s it for the night, you little rascals. It’spastyour bedtime.”
All five of them whine in protest, giving me sad faces. I don’t fall for it this time, though. I’ve been trying to get out of here for the past two hours, but each time they’d give me sad faces and puppy dog eyes I’d end up caving and staying for “ten more minutes” to play games or read them stories. The little rebels know it’s well past their bedtime and are using me—sucker that I am— to stay up late. Uncle Franco warned me they were tricksters, and I didn’t listen.
“Come now!” I clap my hands to get them into action. “Under the covers.”
Realizing that I’m now immune to their tricks, they begrudgingly do as they’re told.
“Now, close your eyes and say your prayers before I turn out the lights.”
Eyes squeezed shut, small hands clasp together, and an inharmonious chorus of whispers ensue.
Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep;
Keep me safely through the night
And wake me up with morning light.
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take
Amen.
I switch the lights off, close the door behind me, then pad down the hall. I find Mama in the kitchen pouring a cup of tea, wearing a frumpy nightie and with large rollers in her hair.I love her so much.
“Have they finally gone to sleep?” she asks me.
I snort. “I doubt it.”
“No escuchas,”she scolds me.“I don’t know why these little ones do not like to sleep.”
As a cacophony of noise from the adults drinking and gambling out on the veranda spills into the house, I arch an answering brow at her and grin. It’s almost midnight. “I think you’re the only person in this house who actually likes to sleep, Mama.”
On cue, a yawn pries her lips apart and she shakes her head. “And then they crawl around likecaracolesin the daytime.” She dunks a teabag. “You never told me if we will have to go away when all the work starts?”
“No, Mama. I’m doing add-ons. There’ll be no knocking down of any walls or anything so your life will be disrupted as little as possible,” I tell her. “Things will, of course, be noisy and messy in the daytime, but you’ll be at the restaurant anyway, so all should be fine. Plus I’ve put Uncle Lenny in charge of overseeing everything since this is his wheelhouse. You don’t need to worry about anything, Mama.”
I’ve decided to use the “reparation” money to build on three more rooms and two bathrooms to the house. The living situation here is just too crazy. Too many occupants for such a small space. And since it doesn’t seem as if anyone plans on leaving anytime soon—if ever—I’ve chosen to do it for the sake of the kids. We have the land space to accommodate the additions. The backyard will shrink to next to nothing, but something had to give.
“Okay, that is good.” Mama picks up her steaming mug and moves in to kiss my cheek. “Buenas noches, hija mía.Te quiero.”
As she shuffles out of the kitchen and down the hall, I grab a beer from the fridge and amble out to the veranda. Leaning against the wall, I take a swig of beer and watch the Mendez family drink, eat, play, and enjoy life.
The morning after my balcony moment with Trent, I woke up with a strong and aching urge to be around my family. Inexplicably,mind-bogglingly, I’d suddenly missed them in a way Ineverhad before.
So I told Trent I needed to be with them for a while and, without question, he drove me here.
