Luci gives us long hugs before she goes out again.
Xochitl goes to her room to sleep. I head to the kitchen.
Wendy’s there with the cereal box. She looks my way and lifts it up.
I nod.
She pours.
We sit and slurp. Clink spoons on bowls.
Wendy says she’s so sorry about Manny.
I nod.
“You were brave,” she says.
“Don’t, Wendy.”
She reaches over and clutches my arm. I can see in her eyes she’s about to try to say something hopeful. Then she stops. And that’s good.
“You’ve been up all night,” she says. “You should sleep.”
“I can’t.”
Wendy takes her bowl to the sink. She sits down again. “Should we work?”
The way she asks … the way she’s looking at me … The way she looked at me last night … when I was the most lost …
We might be broken up. But she’s here. And I’m here. And if we’re working and we keep on working, then maybe my mind can get unstuck from seeing stuff I can’t stop seeing. “Yeah, Wendy. If it’s okay.”
“I want to, Teodoro.”
“Me, too, Wendy.”
“I’ll get our stuff.”
“Just work,” I say.
“Yes, Teodoro. Just work.”
* * *
Wendy heads out to get set up. I can’t get started till I call home.
Mami picks up.
“I wasn’t expecting you this early,” she says.
My heart pounds. I swallow a lump in my throat.
“Are you there, Teodoro?”
“Mami, yeah, I’m here. How are you and Papi?”
“Good. I no longer work for Walmart. Papi and I are headed to the Depot in a while. We’re both on ten to six.”
“Wow, Mami. How is that?”
“I’m going to learn a lot about paint. Your papi likes it.”
“Mami?”
“Yes, Teodoro?”
“I miss you guys.”
“Are you all right, mijo? You sound—”
“I’m good. I’m fine. Just missing you. Wendy’s waiting, so … I love you, Mami.”
“We love you, too, Teodoro.”
I hang up and dial again.
Caleb picks right up.
“Brah from another mah! What is up?”
I tell him I’m going to stay in New Mexico. And I’m gonna step in all the possible crap.
I ask him if he’ll check in on Mami and Papi.
They sound good on the phone, but I need to know for sure.
“Of course, T. I’ll check in on your folks.”
“Thanks. And, Caleb?”
“Yeah, man?”
“I’m gonna call more often.”
“You okay?” Caleb says.
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
“No.”
“I get it, T. Breakups suck.”
“It’s Manny. He’s in the hospital. I can’t talk now, but I’ll tell you soon.”
“Tell me soon. I’m gonna be worrying.”
“I promise. Love you, brother.”
“Love you, brother. Take care.”
“Oh, and, Caleb?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t tell my parents yet. They don’t know.”
* * *
When I’m distracted, Wendy is patient with me. When I have to take a break, we take a break. It feels messed up doing the same stuff we did before, but it’s what I need.
At some point, Wendy’s talking logarithmic functions and I can’t keep my lids open any longer. I brush my notebook aside and rest my head on the table. “Five minutes,” I say, without even looking up.
“You sure that’s it?” she says.
When I wake up, Wendy’s head is on the table. Her eyes are closed and she’s breathing deep. Her chair is scooted right up next to mine. And her arm is resting on my shoulders.
I have no idea how long we been sleeping like that.
“Five more minutes,” I whisper.
* * *
It’s midafternoon when we finally get up. Wendy says she thought she should let me sleep.
I thank her for that. And I thank her for the sleep hug.
“If there was ever a time to sleep-hug a buddy,” she says, “that was it.”
We skip the afternoon shack work and put on hats and sunscreen and go out and help Xochitl and Hector in the fields. We weed. Adjust the drip line. Fix it where it’s leaking too bad. Wendy and I work hard together.
At some point, Xochitl’s working one side of a row and I’m on the other. She tells me she’s been calling the hospital throughout the day. Tío Ed and the group guys are coming at Manny in shifts. Always one of them there.
Ed says Manny’s mostly sleeping. But when he’s not, he’s finally talking. Really talking.
“That’s good,” I tell her. “That’s real good, Xoch. What about you? You okay?”
“Nothing prepares you, T.”
“You think it’s all right, him getting out so soon?”
“I talked to Dr. Fuentes and Dr. Chapman. They think they have a solid plan. And Tío Ed is on a mission. He’s says he’s never lost a group guy. And he’s not gonna lose one now.”
“That’s good, Xoch.”
“I’m not giving up on this summer—and whatever comes after. I’m not giving up on our tío. And I’m not giving up on Manny. We can do this. Right?”
“Yeah,” I say. “We can do this.”
“My God, T, the world would be a different place today if it wasn’t for you.”
“Don’t even say that, Xoch.”
“What?”
“I was just there, okay? And I did it. And that’s fine. But I can’t handle thinking about it, so let’s not talk about it. Ever. All right?”
“All right.”
“Let’s just work.”
“Yeah, T. You’re right. Let’s work.”
We get back to pulling weeds and checking hose and spotting bugs.
And fighting to stop my brain from thinking about how different the world woulda been.