“She asked yesterday if your phone was broken.”
“I’ve been texting her.”
“I’mthe one who texts mom.You’rethe one who calls her.”
“Go spit out the toothpaste and then answer the phone. Don’t make mom worry.”
Josiah huffs and a bunch of toothpaste rockets out of his mouth. I expect him to leave the kitchen and do as he’s told but, instead, he picks up mom’s call right in front of me. “Hi, mom. Nardi’s here. Do you want to talk to her?”
“Yes, I do!” Mom’s voice rings through the air, tugging at my memories of balmy Belizean days, big Sunday dinners, and frequent visits to the sea. Her accent thick and clear as day, she yells. “Nardi?”
“I’m going to end you,” I whisper to my brother.
He sticks out his tongue.
“Nardi?” Mom calls my name again.
“Yes, mom. I’m here.”
Josiah leaves his phone on the counter and darts away. I guess his fear of talking on the phone is worse than his obsession with the device.
“What are you doing?” mom asks. “It’s been so long since we’ve talked.”
I scrunch my nose. “Mom, we talk all the time. I just haven’t been able to sit down for a long chat because I’m so busy.”
“Busy, busy, busy. When are you taking time to rest, Nardi?”
I deftly peel the potatoes. “I’ll rest when I retire.”
“The way you’re running around, you may get sick before then.”
Sick? Sick like Cullen?
I shake my head to clear it of the thought.
“You need to take care of yourself,” mom admonishes me. “What if you end up in the hospital?”
Cullen’s avoiding the hospital’s calls. He doesn’t want to hear the results of his latest test.
“I know, mom. I’m taking care of myself so I can take care of Josiah.”
Mom’s voice flutters with nerves. “Nardi, that isn’t what I meant. You know I love you both.”
“Yes, mom. I know.”
“It’s just that Josiah is so young and fragile. And I’m afraid he’ll be taken advantage of over there. You know how smart he is, but that doesn’t mean he understands the world. It would be so easy to get in trouble.
Here in Belize, at least we have people who’ve known us for years and can look out for us. I’ve heard how cold people are to their neighbors in big cities. They don’t even want to acknowledge each other despite living next to one another for years! If you’re not looking out for Josiah, no one will.”
“I’ll make sure nothing happens, mom. I promise.”
Her voice drops to a hurt whisper. “Of course you will, Nardi. I didn’t mean to imply that you wouldn’t. Oh, the words are coming out all wrong. I just want you to take care of yourself. For Josiah’s sake and yours. You’re both all alone over there.”
I finish with peeling the potatoes and plop them in the boiling water, being careful not to cause too much of a splash.
“Josiah’s doing well in school,” I say. “Everything is fine.”
“Oh yes. I saw a picture of him handing out a certificate at a school function. He looked so happy. He was practically beaming from ear to ear.”