Page 65 of Something in Between

“You know, when I was your age,” Millie says to me, “I had a relative like Lola Cherry.”

“Was she as beautiful?” Lola says.

Both women start laughing again.

“No,” Millie says, “and it was a he. Uncle George resembled a potato, but he could snap your rear hide faster than a buffalo stampede.”

“I like him,” Lola says. “Does he have a girlfriend?”

Millie bursts into laughter and holds out her hand as if she’s going to address that in a moment. “The thing is,” she says through her giggles, “he was blind!”

Both women roar. As they do, I set the table and Mom puts the lumpia and pancit in the center along with plates of boiled pork and vegetables.

“That’s good aim for a blind man,” Lola says in amazement.

“It was,” Millie says. “And he did have a brother. He was blind too. They had contests to see how many of us they could whack on birthdays and holidays.”

Just when I think both women are done laughing, Lola says, “I changed my mind. I don’t want either of them for a boyfriend. I need a man to see all of my beauty.”

Mom hands me a hot plate as the two women howl. “Millie should come keep Lola Cherry company more often,” she says with a smile.

Royce never even had the chance to meet Millie or Lola Cherry, I realize, and I bet he’d like both of them. I kept him separate from my friends, my family, not only because I wanted to be alone with him, but also because I was worried about him getting to know everything about me. I was keeping him at arm’s length. But I wish now that I’d been much more open from the beginning.

Ilike you, Jas. I don’t care what you are. I just want to be with you.

If he doesn’t care where I’m from or what I am, why can’t I do the same for him?

* * *

It’s Christmas Eve when my parents finally hear back from an immigration lawyer. Dad thinks the fees will be too expensive, and even though I was able to get a few fee waivers for my college applications, I still cost my parents more money this month than I normally would. No one told me how expensive applying to colleges would be. It’s crazy how everyone expects you to go to the best colleges but then no one tells you how to get there.

Dad sits on the floor, messing with the train track for the toy train that runs around the base of the Christmas tree. “We need to keep looking for a lawyer,” he says. “This one’s consultation fee is equal to a week’s worth of groceries already. If we go to trial, it’ll be even more...”

“I already made an appointment,” Mom says.

Dad looks up from the track. “So cancel it.”

“He’s got good references.” Mom pauses. She stands up and turns on the radio to a station playing Christmas music. Little bell sounds tinkle from the speakers. “Anyway, Millie offered to pay the consultation fee.”

“Millie can’t pay the consultation fee,” Dad says. He likes Millie, but he doesn’t like accepting money. He’s proud, like I am.

“Why not?” Mom says. “We can get a better lawyer this way. Do you want to be ripped off?”

“I’m feeling ripped off right now just having this conversation. Handouts from your boss? I don’t want to be in debt to a rich old white woman. Or for you to be either. You shouldn’t owe anyone anything. They’ll take advantage of you.”

I side with Mom. “She’s really nice and doesn’t deserve that,” I say.

“Neneng.Butt out. This isn’t your conversation.”

“This conversation belongs to all of us,” Mom says. “Jasmine wants to live in America too. And if you haven’t noticed, your daughter is a National Scholar. More than I can say for you.”

“I work with my hands,” Dad says. “That means I know how this world runs—through hard work.” The train comes around the track and falls off onto the carpet.

“We need a good lawyer,” Mom says. “You can’t fix legal situations like ours with your hands. You’ve been watching too many gangster movies.”

“Yeah, Daddy,” I say. “We need to put our best foot forward. If Millie wants to help, then let her. Hasn’t she been on our side all along? Didn’t she give Mom a job? Just think of it as a Christmas bonus.”

“Christmas bonus...?” Dad echoes. He returns the train to the track.

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