Page 82 of The Seemingly Impossible Love Life of Amanda Dean

January 2016

Black was Mandy’s favoritecolor, but today she wished she were wearing anything but. Abuela had made it through Christmas, but before midnight struck on January 1, she was gone.

It seemed Thanksgiving was her last good day. After that, and by the time Mandy returned from her second Thanksgiving, Abuela slept most of the day and was more out of it than not. Mandy felt there was little she could offer in those days. When she wasn’t working, she would spend her time at Isa’s doing laundry or dishes or whatever needed to be done so that Sandy or Isa, when they had time off, could sit by Abuela’s side. That’s all Isa ever seemed to do those days, work and come home to be with Abuela. Mandy hardly ever saw her even when they were in the same house together. Family would come and go, and the phone never seemed to stop ringing.

Mandy hadn’t been there when it happened. Around 11:30 p.m. on December 31, Abuela’s heart stopped. Mandy’s phone rang sometime shortly after, and when she saw it was Isa calling,Mandy knew. She answered the phone, “I love you for real,” and was answered by Isa’s sobs. And together they cried like that until Sandy took the phone and told Mandy exactly what had happened.

After that, Isa’s house felt empty.

Flowers and condolences poured in, and there were so many casseroles.

With all the planning that needed to take place, Mandy still hardly saw Isa. They hadn’t had a second to be alone and cry while holding each other, and as selfish as it was, Mandy needed that.

Time itself didn’t seem to know what to do with Abuela’s absence either. It seemed to completely spin out of control or drag on for an eternity. That morning it was spinning, but Mandy was dragging. She was going through the motions—hair, makeup (waterproof mascara, of course), getting dressed, except she still needed shoes, and that was where Mandy was stuck.

If there was anyone in the world who loved Mandy just how she was, it was Abuela—and if she were still there, she would likely laugh at Mandy’s selection of tennis shoes with her dress. But Abuela was gone. And there sat a pair of black heels, staring at Mandy as though saying,You know you should pick us. Yet Mandy hesitated.

Even the thought of sliding her feet into them felt wrong. Just as everything else felt wrong without Abuela. Mandy didn’t know much about death or how or why things happened, but something told her 2016 was going to be the worst year of her life.

“Are you still not ready?” Edmund appeared at the doorway of the walk-in closet. “If we go now, I can maybe make it back in time for the two o’clock meeting.”

A flush of heat raced through Mandy’s body. Abuela was practically her own grandmother, and Edmund acted as though her funeral were some kind of inconvenience to him. How many times had she dropped everything for him? Done everything he’d ever asked of her? She had gotten used to the fact that he was phlegmatic, and how he could compartmentalize just about everything in his life, but this? Something inside of Mandy snapped. Although she’d never done anything like it before, she picked up a shoe and threw it at him, hitting him right in the chest before the shoe fell to the ground. “You don’t have to go if you’re too busy. I mean whatever will they do without you at the two o’clock meeting. That issomuch more important than anything I’m going through today.”

Edmund picked up the shoe—because of course he did. Nothing could be out of place in his perfect apartment. “You’re upset.”

“Damn right I’m fucking upset.”

“Amanda.” Edmund hated it when she swore. And like always, he was so damn calm when grief burned so fiercely through Mandy she didn’t know what to do with it.

Mandy grabbed another shoe and chucked it at him, but this time he caught it. “Fuck you. Abuela is gone and all you can think about is work.” All he could do was think about himself.

“She wasn’t even your grandmother.”

If those words were meant to sting, they did. “If that’s what you think, then I don’t even want you to come with me.”

“You don’t mean that. Plus, how would it look—”

“I don’t care how it would fucking look.” She grabbed another shoe, but this time she didn’t throw it. She twisted it in her hands, and that for some reason seemed to make Edmundmore upset, but he didn’t say anything, his jaw tightening as he stood there staring at her like she was a child having a temper tantrum.

She glanced at his side of the closet—suit jackets hung from various shades of light to dark, ties on racks in color order. Everything was in place, and there seemed to be a place for everything. And then there was Mandy’s side. She was lucky she could find anything the way her clothes pressed in on each other. Most of the time they came off the hanger wrinkled, and then there was a pile on the floor underneath. It was the only place in the entire apartment where she was allowed to do things her way. The only place that said she was there. Was that because Edmund could close the door? Was it because the only time he saw the mess was when he was in the closet himself? She ran her hand down the kelly-green dress she wore weeks ago. She looked amazing in it, but it was one of the most uncomfortable dresses she’d ever worn. What the hell was she doing? Mandy started to laugh—the ridiculousness of it all slamming into her like a bullet train. “What do you even like about me?”

“Let’s not do this right now,” Edmund tried to reason.

“Then when? When do we do this? After your meeting today? Or maybe we can do this right before the wedding? Or even better, on the honeymoon? Or when we have kids—that would be the perfect time to do this. Because you don’t even need to answer. I already know there isn’t anything you really like about me—the real me. This.” She spread out her arms in front of her tornado-tangled clothes rack.

“Don’t be absurd. I love you,” Edmund said.

“Do you though? Do you really loveme? Or do you love the idea of me.” She looked back at the heel in her hand: black, plain,boring, and completely not her. It was something he had selected, and she just went along with it. But she was tired of doing that. “We both know you could have any girl you want, but you chose me. Why?” But Mandy knew why. She made things easy. She hid her mess in the closet and closed the door. She was agreeable and wore uncomfortable shoes and dresses because it made him happy. But was Mandy happy?

“That’s right, Ichoseyou. I. Choose. You.” Edmund stepped forward. Handsome, distinguished, successful Edmund in pressed black slacks and just-out-of-the-package bright white shirt—collar starched to perfection. Have him throw a jacket “lazily” over his shoulder, and he would be on the cover of a magazine. Mandy did love him—or maybe she was just as guilty of loving the idea of him. When she looked at him, butterflies didn’t threaten to erupt from her stomach. And today, on arguably one of the toughest days of her life, he wasn’t the one she wanted to wrap her arms around and hold on to.

She slipped on her tennis shoes and walked toward him, sliding the diamond off her finger. “We both know this was never going to last.” She placed the ring in his hand and left alone.

The service was set tostart at 10:00 a.m., so when Mandy rolled in fifteen minutes later than that, she was exactly on time—actually, she was a little early, but only just. No Jiménez family event ever started exactly when it was supposed to. There wasn’t a chance to say hello before they were ushered inside the church. The Jiménez family all sat up front, so Mandy sat next to her parents.

Mom muttered, “Edmund?”

Mandy shook her head. She would have to explain to them later what happened, and she would have to move back into her room for a while.

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