The bed is too comfy to get any real thinking done, so I hop off and sit on the floor. But I can’t concentrate there because Mom’s jewelry is a mess. She leaves bits of half-finished pieces scattered all over and doesn’t even bother separating her finished pieces from her works in progress. I start organizing her mess to clear my head. Frankly, she could make a lot more money off this if she set it up a little nicer and actually put any inkling of energy into marketing her Etsy store. Out of curiosity, I pull up her online store on my phone.
It’s pretty embarrassing, honestly. The pictures are frickin’ blurry, and the jewelry is posed against the washed-out dark blue carpet in my mom’s room instead of literally any other backdrop. It hardly does the vibrant colors any favors.
Mom doesn’t know the first thing about social media or technology of any kind. That gives me an idea. . . . Maybe I can surprise her! Revamping her Etsy store and making an Instagram for it could be exactly what she needs. I carefully sift through all her work and pick my favorite of each style. She has some basic jewelry she sells for cheap, like beaded earrings or necklaces with a crystal on a chain. Her handwoven bracelets are always a hit at the farmers markets. But my favorite is her beadwork.
The colors she chooses grow more vibrant when they’re woven together, like the design gives a life to them that wasn’t there before. Her beaded necklaces, earrings, and bracelets all remind me of Mexico. I haven’t gone since I was little, but I always felt more at home across the border.
I smooth out the white sheet on the bed and lay Mom’s finished pieces on top. They look nice, but the sheet does no justice to how cute they look on. Good thing I’m always down for an excuse to give myself a makeover. After doing my nails, face, and hair, I’m ready to model some jewelry.
“Cesar! ?Ayúdame!” I call out.
“With what?” he calls back.
“Just come here!”
“Ugh, fine.” Cesar comes in and stares at me and the jewelry on the bed. “Uh, what are you doing?”
“Making Mami rich.” I smile. “You’re my photographer.”
“Only if you come with me to get Takis.”
Hmm. I swear I just heard him tell some girl on the phone he’s sick and can’t hang out. Cesar’s definitely using Takis as an excuse to get me out of the house. He never even shares with me, which I would be annoyed about if I actually liked Takis. I think he might be passing up opportunities to do stuff to make sure I’m okay.
He doesn’t know what happened, but he has to know something happened. I’m sure the broken mirror and Bianca’s absence tipped him off. I used to spend almost every day with her, either at my house or hers, ever since we were little, but summer’s almost over and she hasn’t been to our house once since before school let out.
“But I’m grounded,” I whine.
“Mom’s at work.” He winks, which he apparently doesn’t know how to do without turning his entire head and opening his mouth to get his eye to close. “Besides, she wanted us to bring Do?a Violeta tamales anyways. She doesn’t have to know we also went to get Takis.”
It doesn’t take much convincing because personally, I don’t feel like I deserve to be grounded anyway. I’m sure she’ll un-ground me the second I tell her about my Etsy idea. Frankly, I don’t want Cesar walking to the corner store by himself. And Mami wouldn’t either. The guys he’s always fighting with don’t live far from us, and I swear he’s jinxed when I’m not around. I’d rather not risk it, even if it’s hot enough to fry an egg on the street. “Fine, but we’re taking pictures first.”
I hand Cesar my phone, and he starts snapping pictures before I’m ready.
“Not yet!” I rush to put on a bracelet and show off my wrist for the picture, but he shakes his head.