Ellen hadn’t texted! She hadn’t even hugged Rafa back! Then suddenly Rafa was in Ellen’s apartment. She felt dizzy and flustered, and also kind of smug.
It was a tiny studio. There was a fold-out couch, a tiny coffee table, a counter, a small fridge, a portable stove, and a microwave. Rafa went to wash her hands and came out trying to puzzle what kind of space-time anomaly was happening in that bathroom to allow a toilet and a showerhead to exist at once in the same spot.
It was messy, which Rafa hadn’t expected. Ellen had always been so careful and tidy. But then, she did have a toddler.
“I don’t have much,” Ellen said apologetically, opening the fridge.
Rafa peered at the fridge from under her arm. It was mostly empty. Rafa could feel the lines around her face deepening. If she kept this up, she’d have a permanent scowl by the time she reached the age of thirty.
“I can make some egg fried rice,” Ellen decided.
Rafa stepped back and almost tripped on something. She looked down. It was the toddler, who was staring at her with the roundest brown eyes she had ever seen. Christ, she was the cutest thing. Where had Ellen found her?
Oh, right. Gabi had been shoved onto her by a relative.
“So, what’s your story?” Rafa asked, crossing her arms and sitting on the floor by the coffee table. Gabi cocked her head, swaying a bit where she stood. “How long have you been with Ellen? Where were you before?”
“With Uncle,” Gabi said vaguely, then asked loudly: “Who are you?”
“Ellen already told you, I’m her friend,” Rafa said patiently.
“I know,” the kid said, cross. “But… you’re an Aunty?”
“No,” Ellen answered firmly, turning to look at them but not stepping away from the counter. “Rafa is Rafa, not an Aunty. She’ll help us with your daycare for a bit because she’s such a good person, but that’s it.”
“Okay,” Gabi said, looking away. She gave one last suspicious look at Rafa and walked to the other side of the coffee table and started to doodle—well. Lines? Blobs? This was cute as shit.
“Why can’t I be an aunty,” Rafa muttered.
“Lots of Aunties,” Gabi told her. “They take care of me for a while. Because Mom and Dad went far away and they left me, so now someone has to—” she paused, focusing as if remembering something and wanting to get it right. “—deal with me.”
“Wow,” Rafa said flatly.
“Yeah,” Ellen said quietly. “My cousin Chad just showed up here looking like he was afraid she’d start biting, said some stuff about his girlfriend, and left. She had nothing but a little backpack. I need to buy her some toys…”
Ellen started muttering about budgeting. Rafa was torn between feeling charmed and immensely relieved that Ellen still did this, still muttered under her breath when she was deep in thought, like she used when they were kids and she was trying to figure out where exactly to put her foot so she’d be able to climb up a tree.
She quickly opened her mouth to speak so as to stop herself from exploding into tears.
“That happened with Ellen too.”
“What?” Gabi muttered, distracted.
“Ellen’s parents went far away and then Aunties and Uncles took care of her,” Rafa said, propping her cheek up on a fist. “I was lucky, you know? When my parents went away, some family friends of theirs took me in right away.”
“You have an Aunty?” Gabi asked, eyes widening. She had that look little kids got sometimes, like whatever they wanted to know was the most important thing in the world.
“I had an Uncle,” Ellen corrected.
Rafa’s brain zeroed in on that word like a shark scenting blood in water. “Had?”
Ellen was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “It’s complicated. Aunt Gloria got sick and died years ago—and I’m an adult now, so I’m independent—so I’m… on my own. Mostly. I don’t really see Uncle or Miry much. But I’ll deal with it.”
She sounded sad. Rafa wanted to punch someone in the face. “Miry?”
“My sister,” Ellen said. “Well… distant cousin, by blood. But she’s my older sister. She’s good,” she added when Rafa opened her mouth to snap that a good sister wouldn’t abandon her. “I’m the one who won’t see her. I don’t want to cause more problems between her and her father. After I deal with things, I’ll apologize for this and we’ll go back to being close.”
“After you deal with things,” Rafa parroted.
Ellen sighed again and waved a hand around. “I’d just go back to being a burden if I went back now. Look at me—my job sucks, I still have years to go to get my degree, I can’t afford a bigger apartment than this, and now—”
She cut herself off. Rafa glanced at Gabi. Of course Ellen would never say anything front of the kid. But fact was, Gabi’s presence severely impacted Ellen’s life. How was Ellen going to take care of a toddler in this tiny space? She didn’t even have a bed, she had a couch, and now she was sharing it.
Rafa felt her heart do some sort of gymnastics maneuver that it really wasn’t meant to, twisting around in fear and longing. It hurt.
“I have a guest room,” she blurted out.
The sound of Ellen’s spoon scraping against a pan went silent.
“No,” Ellen said quietly, and then more firmly: “You offered to pay the daycare already. That is enough. Don’t offer more than you should.”
Rafa’s stomach fell, she didn’t even know why. “I’m the one who decides how much that is!”
“You already got the daycare,” Ellen cut off. Her back was a rigid line, her shoulders tense. She didn’t turn around. It was a strangely compelling figure, Ellen standing so tall and firm specially when Rafa remembered she was so much taller than her. She fought down a blush. “That’s enough. Okay? Thank you.”
Rafa wanted to fight. She wanted to shout and argue and somehow convince her—the room was there, she barely used it, why not—but right as she opened her mouth she noticed Gabi had gone still like a mouse beside her.
“Okay,” Rafa said gruffly, doing her best to smooth out her harsh expression.
Ellen’s posture relaxed all at once. “Okay. Let’s eat, then I can drive you home.”
“All right,” Rafa said, sad, recognizing a dismissal when she heard one.
***
Rafa couldn’t focus on work.
That was unthinkable. This was what she loved, and she was getting along swimmingly with Kaya, and she wanted more than anything to do this perfectly so Connor would nod seriously at her, which was his version of effusive praise. But instead she was hunched in front of her laptop, scowling at her screen, and trying to figure out why she felt so much like utter shit.
So what if Ellen didn’t want to move into her guest room? Ellen could make her own choices. It didn’t mean she hated Rafa. Sure, it was upsetting, but it wasn’t the end of the world. Why did Rafa feel like it was the end of the fucking world?
“Are you done with work, then?”
Rafa’s spine snapped into perfect straightness all at once.
Great. What the fuck was Connor doing here? Rafa looked around. Where was Kaya? Crap. She had zoned out harder than she’d thought.
“No,” Rafa admitted.
“I have been standing here for five minutes,” Connor informed her, dryly disappointed. “You were scowling at your screen that whole time.”
“I have things on my mind,” Rafa muttered. “I’m not too late sending those emails, anyway…”
“Not too late,” Connor agreed in a tone of voice that made it clear just how disappointing he found it that she was content with doing things half-heartedly. Rafa felt her heart shrivel up inside her chest like a raisin. “If you have a problem with something related to your tasks—”
“I don’t,” she quickly cut in.
“—or your coworkers—” he continued, expression darkening at her rudeness.
“No, everybody’s cool.”
“Rafaela,” he snapped.
Rafa looked away.
“If something is wrong, you must inform Kaya, your supervisor,” he finished crossly.
She sighed. “It’s something with a friend. You won’t know Ellen, you didn’t know me yet then. We were like ten and she was a neighbor and then her stupid family whisked her again… I found her again, but she won’t accept my help…”
“You need to focus on helping yourself,” Connor told her, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. She blinked up at him, surprised. Connor wasn’t a touchy person at all. “Understand? Set aside frivolous friends you haven’t seen in a decade and focus on work. This is what is important. This is your life.”
He was wrong and also an asshole. But he looked worried and intent and he never touched her, so Rafa’s temper couldn’t win against her childish pleasure that Connor was worried for her. So she nodded and smiled, listening to his advice.
When he left, she turned back to her screen.
Frivolous friend you haven’t seen in a decade. She hated the way he had put that.
Was this how Ellen thought of her?
As a dumb little kid she used to know a decade ago, about whom she didn’t care anymore?
The thought didn’t make her feel small or even angry. It made her feel afraid, like the world was about to end.
Oh, she thought.
She didn’t want Ellen to leave her again. She wanted to—to—to grab Ellen. Ellen had disappeared before and now—Rafa felt almost feverish with the need to keep her. That was why she was feeling like shit: the fact that Ellen had pushed her away when she’d offered to bring her closer.
Stop acting like a baby, Rafa snapped at herself. She doesn’t need to live with you for you to be close to her.
She fished her phone out of her bag and sent off a text. She felt a bit guilty for offering help when what she wanted was to selfishly keep Ellen close, but what else could she do?
Rafa: Hey. Hope you charged your stupid phone today. I know you don’t want help with more money shit, but how about other stuff? I can babysit if you need time to study or something like that. I work and have class too so I don’t have tons of free time, but I bet you’d like a break on weekends or something.
Rafa: I wanna help somehow, all right? I couldn’t help you back then, couldn’t stop your uncle from whisking you away. So let me help now, with Gabi. If nothing else, the kid deserves it, right? So just consider it.
There, she thought to herself.