“Julio, I can’t do this anymore,” I say softly. “If El Libertador—Sheriff Moss—screws us over … I can’t … I won’t … I’m not helping out anymore.”
Julio’s jaw clenches and unclenches. “You think I need your help? Look at the kind of ‘help’ you’ve given me. Look at what you’ve done. And now you’re saying you won’t do what it takes to fix your mistakes?”
A tear slips down my cheek. “I shouldn’t have done any of it to begin with. I shouldn’t have worked myself to death. Mama and Papi had their chance, Julio, and they got caught. If they wanted to come back to the US, they should have found a way. We should not have been their meal ticket.” Everything about the way I was raised screams at me to shut up. Did I really just say these things out loud?
“Meal ticket? Is that what this Arden teaches you?”
No. That’s all mine. But he has taught me how to have fun. That it’s important to have fun. But I won’t tell that to Julio. Mostly because he still doesn’t see that we are the ones who’ve turned into the indentured servants. It’s not like we can ever get back these years that we’ve lost working our butts off to get our parents here.
But is fun more important than family? Of course not. Have I been treating it like it is? I’m afraid of the answer. But having fun isn’t wrong. Being with Arden isn’t wrong. Is it?
It’s like I don’t know who I am now. Like I’ve lost my identity in the mix of all this.
“It’s Mama and Papi’s fault they got deported,” I tell Julio. “They weren’t being careful enough. It is their responsibility to take care of us, not the other way around.” These things are all true, but it feels wrong to say it.
Am I betraying my family or have they betrayed me?
Slowly he shakes his head. “You are not my sister. Get out. Get all of your things and get out. You no longer live here.”
I didn’t see that coming. Not at all.
“Julio, please. Please just listen to me.”
“I’ve heard enough. More than enough. Be out by tonight.”
Twenty-Six
Arden adjusts the telescope in his room to look for Orion’s belt. The night is clear and the luminaries are crisp, begging to be observed. Orion is one of his favorite constellations because it’s the first one he found on his own, without Amber’s help. He’s almost got the lens in focus when his phone rings. By the ring tone, he knows it’s Uncle Cletus.
“I’m coming bright and early in the morning, old man,” Arden says, tightening the knob for the lens. “I haven’t forgotten about you.”
“I swear you came out of your mama’s womb talking, didn’t you, boy? That’s not what I’m calling about. It’s Carly.”
The name is like a physical blow to Arden’s stomach. He’d been trying to forget that name, to somehow lift the mark it made on his heart. But his heart still jumps at the sound of it. “What about Carly? Is she okay?”
“She came clean with Julio about all she’s been doing with you and about your little cop-car adventure. He kicked her out. She’s staying with me now.”
Arden presses his forehead against the telescope. Julio kicked her out. That idiot. She’s only sixteen. Still in school. Trying her hardest to do what’s right. And he hauls off and kicks her out. And whose fault is that? he tells himself. If it wasn’t for me, none of this would have happened. “If she stays with you, I can’t come over anymore. I told you what Dad said. If he sees us even remotely near each other, Carly’s family is screwed.”
“I know that, boy. That’s why I’m calling you and telling you that I no longer need your services on the weekends. Carly’s going to help me out around the house while she’s here. But you don’t step foot on my property, Arden. Not until Carly gets on her feet and finds her own place. You two don’t need any unexpected run-ins with your pa. You know that’s what’s best, don’t you?”
Arden nods into the phone. It’s what’s best, but it’s the complete opposite of what he wants. He wants to drop everything and speed over there and enfold her in his arms and apologize for ruining her life and beg her forgiveness and kiss her until she does. Walking past her in the halls at school is like walking past his own happiness in human form.
“Tell her … Tell her…”
“There’s not much to tell her, son,” Cletus says gently. “I suspect telling her anything would just torture you both, don’t you reckon?”
Arden sighs. “Yeah.”
“Listen, she won’t want for nothing while she’s here. She tried to give me rent money but I wouldn’t take it. She’s saving up to get her own place, and a car. I’m letting her borrow my truck to take to work. I never did like her riding her bike all alone at night anyways.” A pause. “She wants to cook me breakfast in the mornings, and do my laundry and such. Earn her keep. It don’t feel right, if you ask me. That little girl’s been through so much already.”
“Better let her, though,” Arden says. “She hates feeling like a charity case.”
“That’s what I figured. Pride sticks to that girl like a skinny tick.”
“You’re a good old man, Cletus. No matter what the rumors say.”
“And you’re still my favorite pain in the neck. I just got a few things going on right now. You’ll call me if you need anything, won’t you, boy?”