The Lesbiana's Guide to Catholic School(90)

“Okay, Mami,” I whisper. I don’t wipe my own because it feels better to hold her hands. I’m so surprised I can’t think straight. She wants us to stay. . . .

“I know I said some stupid shit to you and your brother over the years.” She shakes her head and rubs the backs of my hands with her thumbs. “?Sabes qué? I don’t care if you’re bisexual, gay, whatever. I just want you to talk to me. I didn’t know. How could I have known when you don’t talk to me? Neither of you. I have to find out from your brother after he almost . . .” She pulls a hand away from mine to cover her mouth. I can’t believe how much I relate to her right now. I guess I understand why Cesar hasn’t talked to me, if it feels anything like talking to Mami.

“I shouldn’t have put that on you, Yamilet. What happened with your brother is not your fault, I know that, I hope you know that. I’ve been unfairly hard on you, and I’m sorry for that. I need you to know I appreciate everything you’ve done for us. It’s more than anyone your age should have on their shoulders. I’ve been so worried about Cesar, and somehow still missed the signs. And look at your hands, mija, I—” she takes a sharp breath and lets it out shakily. “Just promise me you talk to me before you get to that point. I know I haven’t made it easy, but please talk to me if you need anything, okay, mija?”

“Okay, Mami. Thank you,” I say.

She wipes my eyes.

“So . . . you’re okay with it?”

She cups my cheeks in her palms and kisses my forehead. “Mija, I love you. That’s never going to change.”

“I love you too, Mami.” I scoot so I’m sitting next to her and slide my arms around her, letting all my muscles go weak. She’s okay with it. She still loves me.

“You tell me if anyone gives you or your brother any trouble, okay?”

I take a deep breath and let it out measured. “Um, Dad did. . . .”

She slow blinks. “Excuse me?”

“I told Dad in October. He hasn’t talked to me since then. That’s why I didn’t want to go see him.”

She starts muttering profanities in Spanish I won’t repeat, then pulls her phone out of her pocket and stomps out of the room.

Even with Mami on my side, being home still doesn’t feel right without Cesar. I’m worried about him, but hopefully the worst is in the past. At school, I have Bo to make me feel better. Plus, Mom being supportive makes things a lot easier. I can’t even put into words how nice that feels. I don’t have to worry about getting kicked out and having to support Cesar, too. I have time to decide what I want to do with my life now that I’m not in a hurry to support myself. Not knowing what I’m going to do is the biggest weight off my shoulders I could have imagined. The uncertainty is exhilarating because now I have a choice.

When Mom picks me up from school on Thursday, we don’t go straight home. Instead, we go get Cesar. Finally. I feel like he’s been gone a year.

Mom must have been busy all day, because when we get home, there’s decorative papel picado hanging from the ceiling. The intricate designs cut into the every-colored tissue paper looks like my mom did it herself. It’s not Easter yet, but there’s a bunch of colorful cascarones everywhere. There’s also pan dulce with bread dyed pink, purple, and blue on the table. It takes me a minute to absorb it all.

“Um, what’s the occasion?” Cesar asks.

“Es gay,” Mom says with a huge grin on her face.

Cesar and I burst out laughing. The pan dulce is made up of the bi flag colors, and the decorations are rainbow. Oh, Mom, she tries so hard. It’s really sweet.

“Hey! I’m cool, okay? You wanna be gay, you go be your gay li’l selves!” She pulls us both into a hug. I know she’s overcompensating, but it’s still nice having someone besides ourselves to celebrate with and just tell us we’re good.

“You didn’t have to do all that.” Cesar squirms out of the hug. I guess it makes sense that he’s a little overwhelmed. Up until very recently, I thought Mom would disown us if she found out, and now she’s all rainbows and gay pride. It’s a little dizzying.

“I did. Because I love my gay children! I love you!” She pinches both of our cheeks and kisses Cesar’s nose.

“Sure. What about the Bible?” He gives her a skeptical look.

“Mijo, if the Bible tells me I shouldn’t love my kids, then the Bible is wrong.”

Cesar and I share a telepathic look for whaaaaat? Mom has never said anything against her faith, ever.

“You’re being weird, Mami . . . ,” Cesar mumbles, and I don’t blame him. I know what she’s doing, though. She’s trying to make up for what Dad did. At Cesar’s comment, her smile disappears, and she looks into his eyes all sad, giving up the charade.

“Mijo, I’ve done a lot of praying about this. And the answer is clear to me now. How can I abandon my kids when they need me most? Now that I’ve seen what can happen”—she gets all choked up—“what can happen if I don’t support you with everything I’ve got, how can I not celebrate my children to the fullest? I’m not saying screw the Bible. I’m just saying, I love you, both of you, and that’s never going to change. The Bible also says to love everyone, and not to judge. And I believe God has a place in heaven for everyone with a good heart.” She taps both of us on our chests.