The Same Sky(57)

“What?” I said. “What are you doing at Dillard’s?”

“We already tried Forever 21, the Limited, and Macy’s,” Jake said. “Evian can’t find the perfect dress. It’s a freaking disaster.”

“You took Evian to the mall?”

“You weren’t here and her mom had to work,” said Jake matter-of-factly. “She can’t go to Homecoming in a sack.”

“So Marion’s going ahead with Homecoming?”

“I don’t know.” Jake’s voice dropped again. “But I don’t want to be the one to tell Evian, and that’s for damn sure.”

I heard Evian’s voice in the background, bossy and loud: “Jake! Are you even looking at this dress?”

“I am!” called Jake. “Hold the phone, Evian, I think that’s the one!” To me, he said quickly, “Got to run, honey. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay,” I said. “Jake …?”

But his attention was diverted back to Evian. “I’m not sure about the sequined headpiece,” I heard him say, and then the phone cut off.


Jake and Pete were waiting for me in the truck outside Austin-Bergstrom Airport. “I missed you so much,” I said, bending down to the passenger window to hug my dog.

“Hey,” protested Jake from the driver’s seat.

“You the most,” I said, climbing into the truck, scooting Pete to the backseat, and kissing Jake. He kissed me back, then handed me some pieces of paper stapled together.

“Hot off the presses,” he said.

“Oh,” I said. “The Bon Appétit?”

He waited, his eyes bright and trained on me. I looked down. In the grainy mock-up his agent had faxed, there was my husband in jeans and a dark shirt, standing with his boots crossed next to the pit. The caption read, “Best Barbecue in America? Bon Appétit Talks to Jake Conroe, Rising Star.”

“Rising star?” I said. “My God, honey! Look at you! Look at your hair!”

“They did it for me,” said Jake. “That’s called ‘product’ in there.”

“I’m so proud of you,” I said. And I felt it, too, coursing through me—pride and gratitude. “You’re a rising star.”

“True,” said Jake.

A security guard rapped on the truck. “Move along,” she said.

I opened the window, holding up the fax. “Look!” I said. “That’s him! That’s Jake Conroe!”

“I don’t care if you’re Lyle Lovett,” said the woman. “Move along!”

“Take me to bed, hon,” I said.

“Whoa,” said the guard.

“You heard me,” I said. Jake hit the gas.


On the way home, I tried to apologize. “I’m going to try not to be such a …”

“Meddler?” he suggested.

“Jeez!” I said. “Such a …”

“Instigator? Tyrant? Stone-cold fox?”

“You know me pretty well,” I said.

“I do.”

“Jane’s sad, but she’s going to be okay.”

“How about you?” said Jake.

“It’s hard,” I said. “I still want a baby. I’m not going to lie to you, honey.”

Jake turned onto Mildred Street. “I know,” he said. “I still want one, too.”

“You do?” I said.

“Of course I do,” said Jake. “But you know …” His voice trailed off. “I don’t have a great statement here,” he said finally. “I don’t have a moving conclusion.”

“Me neither,” I said. “It hurts, to want something you can’t have.”

“Yeah,” said Jake. He parked in front of our house, and I looked at his face, his ruddy skin. He smelled of barbecue and soap. I had always thought we’d be a family by now, but here we were, and it wasn’t nothing, what we had. It was a lot. I leaned into him, my sweet one.





45




Carla


I WENT TO THE American high school for three months. The teachers were kind to me, although I did not understand most of what they said. Before school, in between classes, and after school as I waited for the bus, I was nervous—not in the harrowing way I had been scared on The Beast, but in a more aching way. I was frightened of being singled out or ridiculed. I wanted so much to be noticed, and I also wanted to disappear.

Even in Room Sixteen, I was lonely. My mother stopped paying special attention to me. I began to feel angry at all the other children (including my new sister and Carlos), who had not been left behind in Tegu. I hated being sent to the Laundromat. I hated feeling sick all the time, and I hated the used clothes my mother brought me from Savers. I missed Humberto and wrote him endless letters in my school notebook. I would make something of myself, I decided, and then I would go back to Tegu with enough money to save us both. In the middle of the night, I prayed to God that Humberto would never know what had happened to me on the train. I prayed for God to make me a virgin again.

One night I heard my mother and Mario arguing in English, which meant they were talking about me. My mother was saying, “No, no, it can’t be true.”