then pulls the curtains shut.
“Are you expecting someone?” Abuela looks at him evenly.
“No.” He scowls. “I need to sleep.” He peers out the window again for a long moment, then goes to the couch and sinks down. “God, can you two stop staring at me for a second?”
Abuela just goes to the kitchen and I hear her on the old cord phone, calling Tino’s for a large pepperoni.
“You can’t keep doing this!” I snap because I’m pissed.
“Whatever.” He looks at me for a minute. “Those new?” He narrows his eyes and points at me.
“What are you talking about?” I’m confused.
“You got some money lately or something? You keep complaining that you’re so poor.” He snorts. “Those earrings look like they’re worth some bills.”
I touch my ear protectively. “They were a gift from Abuela.” Then I wish I hadn’t said it. Will he start bugging her for more stuff now? “None of your business.”
“You’re so full of shit, Temi. You act like you’re so much better than me, but you take from her even more than I do.” He scoffs and rubs his forehead. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He slaps his thighs and shouts it. “Fuck!”
I step back. He’s clearly out of his mind in some way. “Eddie, settle down.”
“I’m fine.” His voice is dull, low and quiet. “Everything is fine.” He rubs his head, then sits up. His eyes dart to the window again. “Did anyone call?” There’s a tension in his voice that I don’t like.
I shrug. “I don’t know. No. Who would call?”
When he doesn’t respond, I head to the kitchen. “He’s getting worse,” I whisper to Abuela. “You have to make him stop.”
But what he should stop, or how she should make him do this, are beyond my comprehension. Eddie is like a stone around her neck. A weight on her ankle. A tumor she can’t get excised, because it’s woven into her essence.
“You know I love him, too. He’s my grandson.” Her voice holds rebuke.
“I do know that. It’s just—”
She knows. “Temi, let’s go out for the day.” She announces it like an edict. “I will get my pocketbook. I want to visit the farmer’s market and buy some sunflowers for you. Let’s go enjoy the city together. Maybe you bring me by some art gallery. Show me where your pictures will go.”
“Really? I mean, great.” She doesn’t usually have this much energy, but it sounds awesome. And we need to get away from Eddie, so his ugly mood doesn’t poison ours.
“I’ll just order the food for Eddie. Don’t worry. You and I will eat better, mija. We’ll go to that café you like, the one where the sun makes patterns on the glass.” She looks a little sad again.
“Great!” I grab my purse, too, and slide on my sneakers. This is turning out to be a perfect weekend… the night with Locke, the promise of more time with him, and now a full day with Abuela. Life can’t get any better.
The day goes by full of fun, but when I pull the car up in front of the house that evening, things go wrong. Fast.
The door is hanging open a few inches, gaping like a mouth without teeth. All the lights are out, too.
“Oh, no.” A sick feeling comes over me. “What’s going on?” I put my hand onto Abuela’s arm. “Just wait a minute, okay? I’m going to go check it out.”
I get out of the car and head to the front door.
“Eddie?” I call out once, then again, as I push the door a few inches wider. “Hello?”
I debate whether to go in or not. It could be that he simply left the door open, but something about the dark house makes me feel uneasy.
There’s no answer. “Eddie? Are you in there?” I call louder.
It’s silent, so I figure it’s safe enough to push the door all the way open, and fumble with my hand on the wall for the light switch.
“Oh, no.” I put my hand to my mouth and step back. “Fuck. Oh God.”
The room is torn apart. Couch cushions slashed; stuffing tumbling out like the guts of slaughtered livestock. Abuela’s figurines are smashed, white porcelain shards dotting the carpet like sharp snow.
I step back out, one foot, then run to the sidewalk. With trembling hands, I dial 911 as I head back to my car. “There’s been a break-in at my house. Please send help.” I give the address and get into the vehicle, to hide, to be safe, in case