Page 37 of Searching for Beautiful
They joke about Christian’s morning grumpiness and his obsession with teaching himself guitar. Apparently, he’s pretty independent and doesn’t like to need things from other people. I can definitely see that about him.
“Part of it is just because he likes to learn. He reads my books from school for fun, and teaching himself the guitar started out as the same thing. Now he loves it. ”
“That’s cool. ”
A few minutes later, Brenda sits a huge plate of food in front of me, another for Sally, and then one for her. “Should we wake him up or brag later that he missed breakfast?”
I say, “Brag later,” at the same time as Sally, and the three of us laugh.
Looking down at the plate, I’m not sure where to start. There are tortillas and beans and meat that I assume is the chorizo she mentioned. She also piled scrambled eggs and fruit onto my plate. Honestly, I’m a little out of my element. We do sauce and pasta (though not for breakfast). Since she mentioned the chorizo, I start there, putting a bit in my mouth. Two chews later I feel like my mouth is erupting into flames. “Oh my God!”
Sally and Brenda both look at me with wide eyes. I’m fanning my mouth and my eyes are actually watering.
“You don’t do hot, mija?” Brenda asks, obviously shocked, while Sally jumps up and grabs me a drink, which I immediately suck down.
Now, it’s only my cheeks that are burning. “No, no. It’s good. I just wasn’t expecting it. ”
Brenda reaches across the table and grabs my hand. “Just like my Christian. He can’t handle the hot, either. ”
…
The rest of breakfast goes by without any incidents. I don’t eat the chorizo. Brenda smirks every time she looks at me, and Sally harasses her for not warning me she likes to eat food hotter than an inferno. Christian never makes an appearance.
But I have fun.
I love listening to their banter. They don’t ask me many questions. A little bit about Dad, his job, and making sure he won’t mind that I’m here. They both apologize when I tell them about Mom, but it’s the kind of apology that feels like it’s healing some of the emptiness inside me, not the pitying, uncomfortable kind.
“I have an idea!” Brenda claps her hands. “Do you want to go to the center with me? They’re having a girls’ day, no boys allowed. We’ll listen to music and have lunch. Play games. ”
“Umm, sure. Yeah, I’d like that. ” The cool part is, it’s true. I’m not ready for this day to end.
Brenda gets another one of those grins on her face that reminds me of Christian. Sally kisses her cheek and says, “I’ll clean up while you girls get ready to go. ”
I run next door to grab a couple things while Brenda finishes up at home. I’m a weird mix of excitement and nerves, but I decide not to focus on it and just enjoy myself.
A few minutes later, I actually twiddle my thumbs in the car. I’m not sure what to do or what to say and that seems to work better than anything else.
Brenda sits next to me in her flowy skirt, happiness radiating off of her, and I wish there was a way to siphon some of her positive energy. To not dread something as simple as what we’re going to do.
But it’s not really simple, is it?
I pull my hands apart and rub them on my jeans. All I want is to push those thoughts of before and now out of my head. I just want to live in the moment—find a way to, anyway, and my only chance is to stop myself from dwelling.
“So…have you done this long? The volunteering?” I ask.
Brenda turns and nods. I sit back in the seat.
“I haven’t been at this center very long. Just since we moved here. ” Her accent tints every word. “I’ve done it before, though. It’s hard being a teenager. I didn’t realize that until after Angelica. I want to be there for kids who might not have anyone else there for them. ”
Author: Nyrae Dawn
Her voice is soft, almost sad, making questions spring to life inside my head. I try to decide if I should ask about it or not. It’s hard, reading someone else’s pain. Knowing the right thing to do. I’ve drowned in my own so much, had so many people add to it—on purpose or not—that I want to tread the surface carefully. Little ripples dancing across the water instead of jumping in and causing a huge wave.
Ellie and Diana caused me waves. Even Dad, though not in the same way. The last thing I want to do is make the water flood over someone else’s head, too.
“Can I ask who Angelica is?”
The corners of Brenda’s eyes tilt down a little. “My daughter. I think I told you Christian has a sister. She’s a few years older than he is. ”
