Page 76 of Pride and Protest
“I can’t come over every night,” Dorsey protested.
“Should I just let you know when the girl will be there?” The senator raised his eyebrows. Dorsey nodded and left the room without a goodbye.
When Beverly saw the town car driver buzz the apartment for Liza, she crossed her arms roughly. “Your limousine is here. Enjoy this week with your friend. You’re going to need it to realize everything you gave up.”
“See you, Ma.” Liza’s relationship with her mother had never been great. But these six weeks since Chicho had left with Colin tested her more than ever. She would never understand why she and her mother were so at odds about what was important and fundamental. It seemed like an unbreachable gulf. After all the arguments, after all the boiled-over anger, the only thing left was hollow sadness. She wanted a mother-confidante, a mother-cheerleader, a mother’s unconditional love. But those things always seemed to evade her.
The ride was quick. She could have taken the train, but Liza knew Chicho wanted to make a point.
Look what I can do now.
I made the right choice.
The cobblestone streets in old Alexandria rumbled pleasantly underneath the town car. It was amazing how a thirty-minute ride could change the landscape so dramatically. From harsh brutalism to quaint eighteenth-century brick homes. A horse-drawn carriage pulled up alongside them at a red light, and Liza tapped on the window to get the sleek black horse’s attention.
When the car stopped, Liza pulled a tight smile across her lips. No matter what was said, she would keep her face in a neat, friendly smile. These ankle boots seemed like a great idea until the low tread met the cobblestone.
The ground was slick with chilly rain that had iced over, and Liza’s foot slipped on a shallow pool of ice. She braced herself for the fall by flinging her hands out, and she hit the pavement before the driver could catch her. It was softer than she expected, and she was relieved that she hadn’t broken anything until she realized the softness was warm and stinky, and her hands and shoulders were covered in horseshit.
“Oh my god, girl, what are you doing down there?”
Colin reached for her, then quickly withdrew his hand.
“Liza! Are you okay?” Chicho rushed to Liza’s side, but then also pulled herself back. “Sorry. This is a Rosetta Getty blouse. Can someone help her, please?”
Chicho’s little brother, Alfredo, scuttled out of the house and smiled. “Ew, you stink.” But he graciously took her arm anyway.
Colin covered his face and shooed Liza and the boy around the building. Once they were out of earshot, she nuzzled Alfredo.
“Ew, gross!” He laughed.
“Do you like it here, Fredo?” Liza asked.
“My school is awesome, and the people are nice.”
“That’s good,” Liza said. “Go get my bags and put them inmy room. Tell your sister to take out my good jeans and the gross shirt. She’ll know what I mean.”
Half an hour later, Liza was showered and sitting awkwardly in the living room in her snug jeans and aGrab ’Em by the Pussyshirt, listening to Colin describe every politician he had ever met. She tapped her phone to call up Dorsey’s texts. They were becoming a comfort to her, something she had come to expect every day. She texted:
At Play Cousin & BFFs house.
His reply was quick, as if his phone had been in his hand.
How is that going?
I fell in horse manure so...
Genius plan! Make them want to make you leave immediately.
I think I still have shit somewhere. It’s coming off in waves
It’s the hair clip.
You’re right I should take it off
Three dots.
No, wait. It’s the bra.
