Even Rosie rolled her eyes at the dramatics.
“Go pick a movie and behave yourselves,” Saint told them. Then he looked at Rosie. “Rosie, go make sure they pick something appropriate, because they need supervision from someone more mature than they are.”
A chorus of, “Rude,” “Now that was just uncalled for,” and “Give him a girlfriend and all of a sudden he’s got jokes,” followed the group to the living room.
As soon as they were out of earshot Lola turned to Saint and said, “That was all your fault, you know.”
He nodded. “I had to give them something or Alex wouldn’t have let the topic of El Hogar go.”
“Ah.” Made sense. What better way to distract from neighborhood gossip than with personal gossip about someone who was usually very private.
“Anyway, you can go ahead and join them in the living room. I’m going to order these pizzas. Anything in particular you want?”
“I’m good with anything except anchovies.”
He nodded and pulled his phone out of his pocket, before turning away.
Lola stood there for a moment. She could hear and see the cousins in the living room with Rosie, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to go hang out with them just yet. What if they asked more questions about her and Saint, like what they were doing with each other now? She couldn’t answer that question, because she didn’t know. Yes they’d said they were friends, but it didn’t feel that way. It felt like less, but it also felt like more. She felt like she was on a jungle adventure and at some point she’d gotten lost but she hadn’t realized it until she stumbled across a path. Now she was standing there wondering if she should follow it, scared about what would await her at the end.
Unwilling to join the rest of the group without Saint, Lola decided to be helpful and straighten up. She collected the discarded fashion show outfits that had been left strewn across the kitchen floor, then carried the pile to Rosie’s room. She sidestepped toys, books, and shoes on the floor until she reached the bed. She dropped the pile there and was getting ready to exit the room when something caught her eye.
There, on Rosie’s dresser, stood four pictures of a woman who had to be Rosie’s mother. She had Rosie’s button nose, naturally arched eyebrows, and perfect bow-shaped mouth. She was beautiful in the way that made everyone stop and stare. What was surprising was how young she seemed. In the first picture, which was a selfie, she couldn’t have been much over eighteen with her edgy bob dyed fire-engine red. In the picture of what was obviously their wedding—she was wearing a white sundress and holding wildflowers and Saint was in a special-looking uniform—she looked a bit older, her hair grown out a bit and now the color of clover honey with blond highlights. The next picture was of her cradling a large baby bump and smiling down at it. It couldn’t have been taken long after the wedding photo because her hair had grown out a few inches showing rich brown roots. The final picture was of the obviously exhausted but ecstatic couple holding their newborn daughter. They both looked rumpled and a bit sweaty. Saint looked like he’d come straight from the field in a smudged white shirt, fatigue pants, and dusty boots while his wife was still gorgeous despite her frizzy ballerina bun, red-rimmed eyes, and swollen bottom lip where she’d visibly bitten it hard enough to break the skin. There wasn’t much of Rosie to see as she was bundled up until only her pudgy cheeks and tiny nose showed. It hardly mattered. The love in the picture practically radiated from the frame.
Lola turned to search the rest of the room for more pictures of Rosie’s elusive mother, but there were none. The rest of the pictures on the walls and nightstand featured only Rosie and Saint or Rosie and members of the Vega family. She felt her curiosity grow. It was clear that the woman loved her daughter, so where was she? What had happened to her? She was so young. It didn’t seem possible that she was gone gone. Then again. Lola knew better than anyone that how things looked from the outside were hardly ever how they really were.
“The pizza should be here soon,” Saint said from behind her, causing her to jump.
Lola spun around. “I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I came to drop off the things and then I noticed the pictures and...” She trailed off. What could she say?I was jealous of the woman you loved enough to marry and have a kid with and I wanted to know if she was prettier than me?That was immature as fuck and Lola refused to stoop to that level.
“If you want to know about her, just ask,” he said.
“Where is she?”
“She’s dead. Car accident. Rosie was a baby.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He nodded.
“You must’ve loved her a lot.”
He was silent, then cleared his throat and looked back out toward the dining room. “Let’s join everyone else. I don’t trust my cousins to keep things G-rated around Rosie.”
Message received. Saint would not be discussing the love he had for his dead wife with the girl he’d dated in high school.
She followed him out into the living room where they sat watching Disney+, laughing at the cousin’s commentary, and eating pizza when it arrived. After the cousins had left and they’d settled Rosie in bed, they discussed all of the functions a new community center would have to serve and what types of buildings would be most likely to provide them with a base to begin. Through it all Lola felt the specter of Saint’s wife hovering over her shoulder and whispering in her mind that no matter how right this all felt, Lola didn’t belong there—that Lola was nothing more than an interloper.
At the end of the night when he walked her to her car, gave her a long hug and a kiss on the cheek, Lola whispered back to his wife that she wasn’t there for Saint. She was there for El Hogar. Now, if only she could believe that.
12
Lola had never been Miss Popularity. She had acquaintances and people she was friendly with, but it was all very surface level. She was an intense person, she knew that, and she knew that many people didn’t understand it. Most people didn’t want to think deeply about things like she did and they certainly didn’t want to go out of their way for other people like she was ready to do at the drop of a hat. Most people were just trying to survive and that was totally fine. But it left her feeling lonely a lot of the time, which was why she was grateful to have reconnected with Yara. Even when the woman was smirking at her like a smug asshat.
“What?” Lola huffed.
“I’m just wondering if you’ve noticed how breathy your voice gets every time you say his name,” Yara said.
Lola would’ve known exactly who Yara was referring to even if they hadn’t just been discussing the list of properties she and Saint had put together. Mostly because she did know that she basically sighed his name now. It was annoying and completely unlike her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
