I folded the clothes before me, resisting the eye roll I wanted to send her. “I’m not pale. It’s just almost winter…and I’ve actually gained weight since you saw me last.”
She laughed while tossing a tomato and then a few peppers into the blender. “En las nalgas.”
I snapped my head around right as she hit the blend button, drowning out any response I might have.
Cruz came out a second later and hugged my mother’s side. Once the blender had finished, he tipped his head back.
“Why do we need salsa, Grandma?”
My mom clicked her tongue. “Salsa goes on everything, mijo.”
“But aren’t we having soup?” His little nose scrunched, and I smiled, remembering when I stood in my stepdad’s kitchen, asking him question after question until he finally set me on the counter and let me watch him cook.
“We can put salsa in the soup, too, if we want. But I’m going to have your mom make us some chips. How does that sound?”
“I love it when she makes chips.”
I knew better than to argue.
“So, Henrietta, mi amor. When are you going to tell me about this boyfriend?”
“Why do you assume I have a boyfriend?” I pulled a handful of corn tortillas from the package, then grabbed a knife and cutting board.
My mom stirred and prepped the salsa while keeping her head down. “The leather property patch on the back of the couch that says you belong to a man named Archer.”
My hands froze, my pulse hammered, and my eyes scanned the living room. I had left it out?
Shit. Shit. Shittttttttt.
Wait. How did she know it was a property patch? My mother sighed and reached for the pan she’d gotten out for me. “Warm your oil. You act like you’ve never done this before.”
I grabbed the oil, poured a generous amount into the pan, and then flicked the burner. My mouth was dry, and my voice cracked as I tried to explain. “It’s new, but we’ve been friends for a little while.”
“You never said.” She moved around me, putting things away. I hadn’t talked to her since Archer arrived and we started our friendship. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, but my mind was so preoccupied, and the deep loneliness I usually felt wasn’t there.
“He just moved in last month, but we’ve been around each other almost every day.”
I didn’t see her face, but I heard her scoff. “He’s dangerous, Renny.”
Cringing at her nickname for me, I started quartering the pile of tortillas.
“Can you try calling me, Wren? I picked it out; it keeps me safe…”
Her eyes rounded as she gaped at me. “That’s what I just called you. Renny is Wren, and you’re lucky I called you that instead of your given name, Henrietta. You were named after my grandmother, who would roll over twice in her grave at how you’ve spit on her.”
Shaking my head, I continued to slice. “I mean no disrespect, but Renny is a part of Henrietta. Wren is a beautiful bird that can endure and last in tough environments…they’re resilient.”
My mom’s hand was on her hip as she glared at me. “And this name keeps you safe?”
“Yes, it does.” However, that wasn’t true after Saul had recognized me. My new name didn’t do shit for me.
“If safety is so important, why are you willingly driving around with ¿el diablo?”
I leaned in, whisper-yelling back at her in shock, “Really, the devil? Archer is the devil, now?”
My mother’s face didn’t change; she merely shrugged slightly. I shook my head while slowly adding the chopped tortillas to the pan.
“Do you know what he’s a part of? You have no idea why it’s so dangerous to be near him.”