I was aching, wanting to go to him.
“You asked me how I knew how to handle your mom?” He looked my way now, his whole face twisted up. “It’s because that’s how Sarah was.”
I was bowled over, but I wasn’t at the same time.
“I know I should miss my sister, and I know she was sick. They gave her so many fucking diagnoses, but man,” his voice grew hoarse, “here’s the worst shit ever. I’m glad she’s gone.” He looked my way, that same stricken look coming over him. Bitterness flashed in his eyes before he turned away again. “I can’t remember a time when life was fine at the house. No peace. No quietness. Just always fucking Sarah, and her problems, and whatever she decided to hate the second she got up for the day. She was never happy. She was never–and she was vengeful. If I had a good day, and she didn’t, she’d break something in the house and blame it on me. Mom was scared of her. Titi doesn’t remember her the way she was.
“To Titi, Sarah was loving and the best big sister ever. Every time she says something, Mom and I just give each other a look and don’t say anything. I mean, fuck. My God. She’s been gone a year and four months and I still can’t bring myself to remember the good times. Swear to fucking God, I don’t remember any. I’ve tried. I hate that I feel this way, that I still loathe her, even when she’s gone. I think there was one Christmas where she was nice, one fucking holiday. And by her being nice, she didn’t throw a temper tantrum that the whole day wasn’t about her. I hate my sister. She’s dead. I should be mourning her. I was told that when someone dies, you automatically remember the good because that’s what we should remember. Not the bad. The bad doesn’t matter anymore. Just the good, but not me. Not for her. I can’t remember shit, and I get mad about that, that I can’t because fuck me.
“There should be something. Right? She couldn’t have been bad all the time. What kind of brother am I, that I’m unable to do that? Everyone thinks I’m this easy-going guy. Jokes on them. I think of her and I’m relieved she’s gone. That’s the twisted shit inside me. And Burford went to see Titi yesterday.”
Now it made sense.
Now the dots were connecting.
Now I knew what we were doing here.
I reached over, my hand sliding into his.
“I have no idea how the visit went. I can’t bring myself to call and ask. I don’t want to hear that it went well. That Titi lit up, seeing Burford because of course she would. She’d be so happy, not having any clue that Burford’s the reason she’s half paralyzed. And I know, in my head, I know that’s wrong to think. Sarah crashed the car, for whatever fucking reason, and trust me, some switch flipped in her. Burford’s account, the eyewitness accounts. Even a cop saw it. It was on camera. My sister was driving along. Everything was fine, and you can see in the car that Burford is smiling, laughing at something. She turns around to say something to Titi, and Sarah got this look. She got all hard and vengeful. I know that look. Seen it all my life, almost every day, and she yanked the wheel. She drove head on into a semi. Swear to this day. I can’t shake the feeling that she wanted to kill Burford or Titi that day, but she didn’t realize she might go too. I can’t shake it. Burford walked away with barely a scratch. Semi tried to turn, save them, but because he did, he hit Sarah head-on, and Titi was right behind her.”
He drew in a breath.
“I can’t figure out what I’m pissed about, that Burford wants to make amends? That Titi will love that? Or fuck, because I think that in some way, of both of them making amends, that Sarah’s going to be let off the hook? She did that. She wanted to hurt herself, or Burford, or Titi. They’ll heal and move on and what? No more blame put on Sarah? Fuck that. I know that’s what they’ll do. Burford blames herself, feels bad about the whole thing, but she never knew Sarah for who she really was. Not really. Titi, she’s all good. Sarah was all bad.” He turned my way, his whole face so hard. “I knew how to handle your mom because I grew up handling someone just like her. My own sister got off easy by dying. How fucked am I, that I think that? This is the guy you chose to fuck.” He shook his head, shoving up to his feet. “I can’t–I need some time.” He took off, heading down to the beach.
I let him go, because I understood.
I let out a small sigh and reached for my phone, turning it on.
More texts buzzed through, but I went to my dad’s and hit call.
He picked up right away. “Hey, honey. How are you?”
“If you’re coming to town because something new has happened with Mom, I don’t want to hear it.”
He was quiet on his end, and that told me he was coming because of her.
I’d made my decision. “I’m done, Dad. I’m done with her.”
“Honey. Mara. She’s your mother–”
“No. She’s never been my mother. I have no idea what it’s like to have a mother, but I do know what it was like having a father. I wanted to call and thank you for that.”
“Mara, this doesn’t sound like you. Are you okay? Did something happen?”
I closed my eyes. It’d been so long where it was about me, not her. I smiled to myself, looking down at the towket with a tear in my eye. “Thank you, Dad. But I don’t want to hear about whatever new is going on with her. I’m done.”
I ended the call.
Turned the phone off.
And sat there, watching the ocean waves, waiting for Cruz to come back.
37
CRUZ
My phone was ringing. All my roommates knew I’d taken a beach day, so it wouldn’t be them. Then I looked and had to laugh. “Hey, Mom.”
She was quiet for a second. “You sound upset.”
I didn’t deny it. I didn’t confirm it either.
I gripped the phone tighter. “You sound happy.”
She sniffled. “I am. It was–it was a good day, yesterday. You won both games and…”
I looked down, saying gruffly, “I don’t want to hear about it.”
Her voice got quiet. “Titi was over the moon. I videoed some of it, but she wouldn’t stop smiling when Sabrina came over. She was still beaming this morning. She crashed last night. She was just exhausted, but it was a good day.”
“Mom…”
She kept on, her voice getting a little louder, “Sabrina told me how you’ve been treating her.”
“Mom–”
“That’s not the son I raised. You don’t tell people to leave others the ‘expletive’ alone. You don’t glare at them or treat them rudely. Do you hear me?”
“Mom.”
“I said, ‘Do you hear me?’ You know how I raised you. I need to hear that you know how I raised you.”
Like a general giving her orders. I almost smiled at that. “I hear you, Mom. You didn’t raise me to be like that.”
“If you see Sabrina, I’m not saying you need to be friends with her, but don’t be mean. She is not the one who caused the accident. You can’t be angry at her for being kind, for making Titi laugh. She’s not a bad girl.”
I grunted. “She called a friend of mine a cunt.”