“Oh come on. I’m not just people. I’m her grandmother. I deserve to hug my granddaughter. Come here, mami.”
Sofia recoiled, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck. I turned her away, putting my body between her and Guadalupe.
“I’m sorry,” I said firmly. “Maybe another time.”
“So there will be another time?” My mother brightened just as I realized how I’d backed myself into a corner.
“Um.”
“Please, baby.”
“Mama.” Sofia started to squirm.
I set her down and let her scamper back upstairs to join her cousins, then turned to my mother with a sigh.
“I just miss you,” she said. “I missed a whole life with you. In rehab, we have to take accountability for these things. We say sorry to the people we wronged. Joni and Marie came that day. Lea came later. But you and Matthew and Katie…and sweet little Sofia…I never saw any of you.”
I bit my lip. I wanted to tell her that was because we’d shown up countless times before. That she had already missed the parts of our lives when we needed or wanted her. Now we had to be even more careful because we’d been burned too many times.
A squeal rang out from the top of the stairs, where Sofia was happily playing hide-and-seek with the “hooligan boys,” as Matthew had taught her to call her cousins. She played tough, but I knew on the inside she was just as fragile as anyone. Maybe even more because it was just her and me.
“I’ll think about it,” was all I said. “But right now, I really do have to leave. Enjoy your lunch, Mom.”
“I’ll see you soon, mami!” she called.
But I shut the door without answering. Once again, I didn’t know what to say.