10
“MamamamamommymomMOMMEEEEEEEEE!”
I squinted in the sunlight streaming through my window. One day I’d invest in blackout curtains. It would be the same day I could afford an actual bedroom, or at least double-paned windows to mute the squeaky breaks of the B61 bus or better ventilation so I wouldn’t smell the exact moment Mattie’s tenant decided to cook his favorite pork sausage. Basically, when I didn’t have to spend all my extra money on things like preschool and underwear and snack packs and all the other things small children need.
Sofia yanked at my arm like it was a water pump, jumping up and down in excitement. “Guess what? Aunt Kate said she would stay for breakfast, and she let me watch Daniel Tiger all morning, and you’ve been asleep forever, and we’re going to the park now, so get up!”
“Okay, okay, peanut. But first, Mommy needs to remember she’s human.”
Hand pressed to my temple, I forced myself out of bed while Sofia pounded back downstairs, leaving me to get dressed and find my way to the bathroom to splash water on my face. When I returned, Nonna’s dress was hanging over the back of my wardrobe door like a black ghost of last night’s fiasco. I stood before the wardrobe mirror, looking between the LBD and the pajamas covered with pizza-eating unicorns gifted from Sofia (meaning Matthew) last Christmas.
I snarled at my reflection. I’d scrubbed off my makeup so hard last night my cheeks were still red. Pillow marks streaked across the left side of my face, and my hair had frizzed up beyond belief.
I turned away, then hastily stuffed my hair into a messy bun. A shower could wait. I needed some tea.
Downstairs, I found Kate in the kitchen, already pouring me a cup.
“Oh, you saint.” I slid onto one of the counter stools as she slid the mug across the stained brown tile. “What are you still doing here?”
She shrugged. “You seemed a little worse for wear last night, and Mattie didn’t get home until God knows when. I thought it would be best if I stuck around when Sof got up.”
A glance at the microwave clock told me it was just after nine a.m. Which meant Kate had dutifully risen with my four-year-old at approximately five thirty in order to let me sleep in.
“You’re amazing,” I told her.
“I know.” She glanced back at the TV, where Sofia had plopped herself back on the sofa to watch the next episode of her beloved cartoon tiger, then leaned across the counter toward me. “All right. You going to tell me what the hell happened last night?”
I stared at my reflection in the deep brown liquid, pretending I hadn’t heard her.
Last night…hadn’t been pretty. Specifically, I hadn’t been very pretty. Not while I ran in Nonna’s wrinkled dress all the way to the Fifty-Seventh Street station. Not while I had felt lonelier than the rats gathered on the subway tracks while I waited for what seemed like hours for the F-train to rumble down the tunnel. And not while I had ruined my best black pumps jog-walking the mile across the Hamilton Heights footbridge from Carroll Gardens to Red Hook at close to two in the morning, praying I wouldn’t get mugged on my way there.
When I’d finally gotten home, Kate had popped up from the couch, half asleep in a pair of Matthew’s pajamas, informed me that Matthew had decided to stay at his friend’s uptown, then asked me blearily how the night had gone.
I’d lied, then run upstairs behind the privacy screen so I could cry alone.
But sisters know. They always know.
I sighed and stirred my tea. “I ran into Xavier.”
“Who’s—oh! You mean…” Recognition dawned on Kate’s face as she did a series of rapid takes between me and Sofia.
I nodded. “That’s right. In the middle of that stupid party. Apparently, he’s this big-time restaurant owner or something. Friends with all these rich people. He changed his last name, which is why I could never find him.”
Something twisted in my gut. Based on what I’d seen last night, he was one of those rich people.
“Holy shit.” Kate shook her head. “So, Jesus, what happened?”
I cringed. I really didn’t want to go into this. “We talked some…and then he followed me out of the party…and I sort of went back to his hotel room.”
“You what?”
A squeak from the TV told me Sofia was now half-paying attention. “Aunt Kate, can you please be quiet? I’m trying to watch my program.”
Kate and I both bit back giggles. When she was irritated, Sofia tended to talk like Nonna.
I motioned for Kate to button her lip, then called to Sofia. “Sorry, Sof. We’ll keep it down.”
“Thank you!”