Win Some, Lose Some

Travis tried to talk to me, but it wasn’t working, so he let me just kind of lie there for a while. The TV was on, but I wasn’t really watching it. I couldn’t even tell you what the show was. I didn’t really think about anything, either. Often when I’ve had a bad attack, I just feel kind of wiped out and empty afterwards.

Bethany showed up a while later and cooked dinner. I had no idea what we ate, but it was good, and I felt a little more human afterwards. I washed the dishes slowly while Travis and Bethany argued quietly in the living room. After a few minutes, Travis came back into the kitchen, all tight-lipped, and babbled something about needing to go grocery shopping. By the time I was done drying, he was gone, and it was just Bethany and me.

I had placed the final fork in the drawer and hung the little green hand towel over the handle of the oven before I looked up at my aunt. She stood and crossed her arms as she leaned against the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room.

“I thought this girl made you feel calm,” Beth said suddenly. “You look like you’ve been through a tornado.”

“It wasn’t her,” I said defensively.

“What was it, then?” Bethany pressed me for an answer. “Something with the car?”

“I don’t want it back,” I said, almost growling. I knew immediately that I made a mistake. Bethany’s eyes lit up like she hit some kind of jackpot, and there was no way she was going to let go of the topic until I told her everything. She was just too perceptive.

“You hated having to put it in the shop,” Bethany said. “Why the change of heart?”

I knew at that point that there was just no getting out of it. Besides, there was a grocery sack on the counter, which most likely held the ingredients to something delicious. So I told her about Mayra driving me to and from school and hanging out at the house afterwards. I told her about how we would sit on the couch, and she would touch my hair.

“You used to do that to Megan,” Bethany said. “Do you remember?”

“Do what?”

“She would lie down on the floor, and you would braid her hair,” Bethany said. “You were pretty young—maybe four or five—but you loved to braid her hair. You’d make a hundred of them all over her head and then take them all out again. Megan would just lie there and let you.”

“I don’t remember.”

“It was before Travis and I were married,” Bethany recalled aloud. “I’m sure of that. I don’t think Megan ever tried to do the same with your hair. She wouldn’t let anyone else do that to her, either.”

“I remember your wedding,” I said.

“I don’t see how you could.” Beth snorted. “You were in hiding throughout the whole ceremony!”

Flashes of Beth’s white dress and the itchy collar of the tux I had to wear as the ring bearer paraded between my ears. I never made it down the aisle—as soon as I saw all of those people, I hid underneath the pastor’s desk, and they couldn’t make me come out. Mom ended up missing most of the wedding.

“Want to go sit down in the family room?” Beth asked.

I nodded and followed her downstairs. When she got there, she dropped down on the left side of the loveseat, which made me cringe. It didn’t look right—not at all. Mayra was supposed to be sitting there or at least someone with brown hair, not blonde.

“What is it?” Beth said as she looked at me sideways. “I must be doing something wrong.”

“Mayra sits there,” I told her.

“And plays with your hair?”

“Yeah.”

“Then sit down with me,” she commanded.

I sighed and sat down next to Bethany. Flopping over sideways, I placed my head in her lap and tried not to tense up too much as her hand touched the top of my head. It didn’t feel like it did when Mayra touched my hair—not at all—but it wasn’t bad.

“Like this?” Beth asked.

It wasn’t, but I nodded anyway.

“We never continued our conversation,” she reminded me.

“I don’t think you ever really started it,” I told her.

Beth laughed.