“We’ve come right home every day and started our homework, too,” Sophia added, glancing at me.
“That’s perfect.”
“I told Christian he could pick me up for school today,” Sophia inserted. “I’m just going to school and back.”
“You should have asked permission first,” Tía Isabela said.
“Why? I would go with Delia otherwise. It’s just a ride to school, Mother.”
“Be careful, Sophia. I know when I’m being deceived.”
“I’m not deceiving you! Damn.”
“Watch your language at the table.”
Sophia looked down at her plate.
“You can go with Christian, but I don’t want to hear anything about speeding or side trips or anything else, understand?”
“Yes, Mother,” she said.
Sophia looked satisfied, which only made me worry more.
Tía Isabela returned to her reminiscing about happier days with her husband, but some warning was buzzing in the back of my mind. It would be with me all day. I tried to think about anything but my schoolwork, and when I had the opportunity, I wrote the additional letter to be given to Ignacio.
When the school day ended, I hurried out to my car. Fani, who had her own car, too, was already in the parking lot.
“You want to come over to my house for a while?” she asked. “We can discuss you-know-who a little more.”
“Thank you, Fani, but I have an important chore I must do.”
She bristled. No one turned down an invitation from Estefani Cordova.
“Can I come over right after I do the chore?” I quickly added.
“Well, how long will you be?”
“Not more than an hour,” I said. She wasn’t happy, but my quick thinking saved me.
“If you’re much longer, just don’t come,” she told me, and got into her own car.
I hurried to mine. All of the students were leaving the school now, and I caught sight of Sophia and Christian walking quickly to his car. I sped up and nearly got a speeding ticket, because a policeman who was following me pulled up alongside and wagged a warning finger at me. I smiled, nodded, and slowed down. He drove on.
Ignacio’s brother, Santos, was out front when I arrived. I was surprised to see him. If he was finished with school, he would usually go to work with his father’s crew. I noticed he was carrying some tools. He paused when I drove into the driveway.
“Where did you get that car?” he asked immediately.
“My cousin.”
“You’re really rich now, aren’t you?”
“I’m not. Mi tía is. What are you doing?”
“I’m repairing these steps,” he said, nodding at the front steps.
“Your mother is inside?”
He nodded. “Can I look at your car?”