Page 128 of New Growth
“So… what should we do about it?” he asked with a level of vulnerability I hadn’t expected.
I exhaled deeply, my mind a tangled mess of emotions and exhaustion.
“I just wanna lie down.”
He studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. Let’s lie down.”
Slowly, we climbed onto my bed, lying side by side but not touching. Together, we just stared at the ceiling, listening to the faint hum of the record still spinning downstairs.
“Tell me about your mom,” I murmured after a while.
El turned his head slightly to face me. “What?”
“You never talk about her,” I said, shifting onto my side to look at him.
His jaw tightened, eyes flicking toward the ceiling again. “Why do you wanna know about her?”
“Because I want to know you.”
El’s jaw flexed as he exhaled slowly, his fingers drumming against his stomach. “Well, she died when I was a few days old, so I didn’t know her.”
I hesitated. “Still, I’m sure you’ve heard stories about her.”
His lips twitched like he was debating whether to indulge me or shut the conversation down completely.
“I have.”
I waited, but he didn’t continue.
“Tell me one,” I pressed.
His eyes flicked toward me, then back to the ceiling. “I only remember one. When she was pregnant with my eldest brother.”
I stayed quiet, letting him take his time.
Finally, he sighed. “My mom was… bold. Stubborn as hell. Apparently, it was her way or no way. My dad used to say she had a habit of doing whatever she wanted and dealing with the consequences later.”
Sounds familiar.
“Anyway, when she was about seven months pregnant with my brother, she decided she wanted some fried fish. Not just any fish—fresh catfish, straight from the bayou. But my dad was working late, and none of her brothers were around, so she just… went by herself.”
I lifted my head. “Wait. Went where?”
“To the swamp,” he said like it was obvious.
I squinted at him. “The fuckingbayou? Tell me she didn’t—”
“Of course she did,” he confirmed, rubbing his jaw. “She took a little rowboat, paddled out past the shallow waters, and started fishing. Seven months pregnant. Alone. At night.”
“That’s insane,” I muttered, half impressed,half horrified.
“It is,” he said, smirking slightly. They said she had been out there for hours. Finally, she caught a decent-sized fish and started rowing back when she realized she wasn’t alone.”
I sucked in a breath. “Oh, hell no.”
“Mhmm,” El hummed, closing his eyes as if he could picture her. “There was an alligator circling the boat.”
I sat up fully. “You’re lying.”
