Page 14 of Betsy
5
Betsy
Ifelt a little like Santa must on Christmas morning. Except I’m real and there was no way I was going to ding-dong-ditch this good news. I wanted to see the looks on everyone’s faces when I told them I had the money to start the process of getting Camilla a green card.
I glanced at the clock on my dashboard. If I hurried, I’d be able to catch all the adults at the same time. There was a twenty-minute overlap when Papi got home from the night shift at the newspaper before Mami and Tia Alma left to whichever client’s house they were cleaning that day and Tio Sergio took the little ones to school before continuing his job search.
Our small craftsman was bursting at the seams, but I knew Mami especially liked having her sister close. Once Tio Sergio found steady employment, they’d start looking for a house for themselves, although I doubted they’d move too far away. Then again, housing in Southern California wasn’t easy to come by, and a person needed to build a time machine and pluck some gold nuggets out of the river like a regular forty-niner to be able to afford four walls and a roof.
On a street full of houses with stucco façade and tile roofs, ours was the only dwelling with cedar shingle siding. It stuck out like it didn’t belong, and yet I liked this house more than any of the others. Maybe there was a deeper meaning there. Maybe I just didn’t like Spanish-style architecture. Could go either way.
I parked and hurried along the concrete walkway toward the front door. Asher had used an app to transfer the money from the band’s bank account to my own. All I had to do was write Papi or Tio a check. The family hadn’t decided which option would be best in getting Camilla to the States so she could stay permanently. Fly her over on a B visa and hope the process of obtaining a green card could be expedited within the one-hundred-and-eighty-day window, or save the money the plane ticket would cost and allow my father to be the sponsor, since he’d become a citizen over a decade before. Citizen sponsors bumped the preference to first from second with a permanent resident sponsor.
But then it could take who-knew-how-long until my cousin was reunited with her family. Yes, she was twenty-one and officially an adult, but those in the United States didn’t fully understand the family relationship dynamics of people in Latin American countries. Leaving Camilla in Argentina had to have been like leaving half of her heart for my aunt. And even though Camilla had tried to sound positive last time I talked with her, there had been a hollowness to her words. Logically, she knew her parents and siblings had to take the opportunity when it presented itself, but deep down she felt a little abandoned. How could she not? She didn’t have a single member of her family left in the country.
At least she’s safe, I told myself. Unlike a lot of others seeking to make a new life in the United States, my cousin’s safety wasn’t being threatened. There wasn’t a desperation, a life-or-death outcome dependent on her being here now. We had the time to wait and go through the proper channels. To do things the legal way with paperwork, red tape, and sometimes years of waiting. Not everyone had that luxury.
“Hola!” I called loud enough so I could be heard throughout the house. “I have good news!”
Mami poked her head out of the downstairs bathroom doorway, a tube of lipstick in her hand. “Ah,mija, no need to shout.”
Stampeding elephants herded down the stairs in the form of Diego and Ava. “Betsy, can we have a dance party before school?” Ava asked.
“Por favor.” Diego looked up with pleading eyes.
I patted them both on the head. “Maybe after I talk with the grown-ups. Here.” I pulled out my phone and opened the music app, finding the sound track forEncanto,then starting “We Don’t Talk About Bruno.” Lin-Manuel Miranda was a genius. “Practice your moves, then when I’m done, you can show me what you’ve got.”
Diego snatched my phone out of my hand while Ava sashayed after him.
“Now, what is this hollering about good news?” Papi lowered himself into a chair, his head heavy on his neck like he could barely keep it upright any longer. If he didn’t make it upstairs soon, his chin would hit his chest and he’d snore right here for the next six hours.
“Where are Tio Sergio and Tia Alma?” I looked around but didn’t see either of them.
“Hermanos!” Papi’s voice boomed.
Tia Alma descended the stairs, her hands by her ear as she secured the back of an earring to its post. Tio Sergio was right behind her. She made a sucking noise with her teeth. “The neighbors will complain if you keep shouting.”
Papi made a rolling motion with his hand in my direction. “Betsy has something to say.”
Four pairs of eyes stared at me. “I have the money for Camilla.”
Tia Alma inhaled a sharp breath and covered her mouth with steepled palms.
“Well, maybe not all, but I have enough to start at least.”
Mami pulled me to her side and kissed my temple. “Cómo?”
Of course she would ask how, seeing as I usually only brought in enough income to make rent on the studio and pay for my room and board here. Maybe it sounded weird that I still lived at home, but we were South American. Living with our parents until we married was a part of our cultural heritage. Mami would probably have a heart attack if I moved out before I had a ring on my finger.
“I was hired as a live sound engineer for a band going on tour. They paid me part of the fee up front.”
“I am speechless.” Tio Sergio enveloped me in a bear hug. “Gracias, sobrina. We will repay you when we can.”
I shooed away his comment. “Nonsense. Family helps family, no?”
Papi’s eyes beamed with pride. “Sí.”
“So,” Mami interrupted. “Who is this band?”
