Mothered (31)



“Why the sudden rush?” Grace had met both of Miguel’s sisters a couple of times, but his family lived in Philadelphia, so she didn’t know them super well. Still, she knew Carolina had been with Thom for at least four years.

Miguel gave the sky a why-me shake of the head. “And good brother that I am—”

“You’ve been in Philly?”

“Working my underappreciated ass off. Drove home last night. And why the rush? Carolina’s convinced we’re all going to be in lockdown again, forever next time. Maybe she’s afraid . . . I don’t know. But it suddenly seemed like life or death, now or never, so she chose right the fuck now.”

“That was good of you—you are a good brother. And I’m sure Carolina appreciated it.”

He conceded with a little smile and a one-shouldered shrug. Their appetites somewhat satiated, they ate at a more relaxed pace.

“It was good to get away for a few days, see the family,” said Miguel. “You look really awesome, by the way. Your hair. And I swear you’ve lost ten pounds since last week.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Very noticeably.”

Grace hadn’t noticed it herself. “I think my mom’s a vegetarian.”

“Is that why you’re so mad at her?”

“I never said I was mad at her.”

“No, you just dragged me away like she was an infectious disease. Things aren’t getting better between you?”

Grace slumped back in her chair. Now that Miguel had mentioned it, she felt thin, in a malnourished sort of way, and wished she’d asked for a double order of bacon.

“She’s not the problem, really.” She put her fork down, mildly nauseated now that she had to find words for what she’d been experiencing. “I’ve been having the worst . . . They don’t even feel like dreams. I mean, they’re nightmares. Scary. But also real.”

“About what?” He sounded eager, but as he happily devoured the rest of his breakfast, it made Grace feel even more alone. To him, this was something interesting, a new thing to talk about, not a mental health dilemma.

“Hope has been in a lot of them. But I started this”—she held out a piece of her short hair—“while I was . . . sleepwalking.”

“Wow. Looks very professional.”

She gave him a smirk. “I didn’t do all of it in my sleep—I just started it.”

“It makes you look younger. I’m serious, you look good, healthy.”

While she appreciated the compliments, it was clear he wasn’t grasping that this was a problem. But she hesitated to voice just how confused she sometimes felt about reality.

“So I haven’t been sleeping well. And I’m also pretty sure I’m on probation at the job I just started. And then . . . well, I feel like an idiot, but I had this fear I might be pregnant.”

Miguel held the back of his hand to his mouth, as if something unexpected might come flying out. He took a second to compose a response.

“Congratulations? Or . . . ? I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone.”

Time stopped. Grace gaped at Miguel. This was the confirmation she’d been wanting—that they had not slept together—but that meant it wasn’t only her head that was messed up but her body too.

The back door opened, and Jackie came out carrying a big jar full of water and tea bags.

“Sun tea!” She grinned at them—

and in that grin Grace saw Lexis and her brown teeth

and Barbara with the scissors in her hand

—and left the jar in a patch of sun and went back inside.

“Does your mom know?” Miguel asked.

“What? God no.” For some reason, the idea disgusted her.

“Thought maybe that might explain all the nutritious food. Well, except for the pie.”

“No, I—my period’s late. It’s never late, but everything’s making me paranoid.” So paranoid that now she didn’t believe Miguel’s earlier compliments. She didn’t feel healthy and couldn’t imagine she looked it. She even questioned the conversation they were having, where and when—and if—it was happening; it felt less real than the dreams.

Miguel reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry. You have a lot going on and I’ve been AWOL—against my will, but still.” His grip—his flesh—helped to authenticate the present reality. “So, first things first . . . Who is this mystery man you’ve been hooking up with? And why am I just hearing about it now?”

Grace choked back a sob. If only she had something as easy and titillating as a secret lover to reveal. She started at the beginning, with the first dream about Hope and the paper dolls, and told Miguel everything. Well, nearly everything—she left out the part about being a professional catfisher, and referred to Hope’s kidnapper as a “bitter ex.”





20


A couple of hours later, Jackie came out to fetch her sun-brewed tea and offer them slices of cherry pie. She made a peppy little waitress of herself and asked if they needed anything else. Grace was tempted to request a refill of their pitcher of water, but didn’t. They thanked Jackie, gushing over her pie, and she retreated to the house to give Grace and Miguel their space.

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