Chapter Nine

Iwalked into my parents’ house off Central Avenue at six thirty Tuesday night. I loved the house I grew up in, on a short cul-de-sac with a wide lawn. Our house had always been filled with friends and family coming and going. Mom and Dad believed that if our friends were welcome here, we were less likely to get in trouble elsewhere. It worked, I supposed, because none of us had gotten into serious trouble.

Nico was getting out of his car as I pulled up. He waited for me and I gave him a hug. We were Irish twins, as they say—eleven months apart. He would be twenty-five in April, and I would be twenty-six in May. We’d been close growing up—honestly, I was close to all my siblings except maybe Luisa. Lulu was nearly eight years younger than me. Jack, Tess, Nico, and I had all been born in a five-year span.

“How’s the crime lab?” I said as we walked into the house. “Solve any cool cases?”

“It’s good. Not quite as glamorous as being a CSI on television, but I did match up prints on a serial burglar in Paradise Valley.”

“Catch him?”

“Not in the system,” Nico said. “But we connected seventeen crime scenes through his prints.”

“And that’s why the prisons are full,” our mother said as she walked into the living room and gave us both hugs.

“Because criminals are stupid,” Nico and I said in unison.

“No gloves is quite irresponsible for a thief,” she said. “But he also knows he has no record so no reason for law enforcement to have his prints.”

“Exactly,” Nico said. “Nothing popped in the major offenders database or federal. But if the police find a suspect, we’ll match.”

My dad got up from his desk—there was a den off the entry, which had been his office as long as I could remember.

“Nico! Margo!” he said with a smile, his blue eyes sparkling as he hugged us. To me he asked, “How’s the house coming along?”

I groaned. “A mess. Now that all the walls are out, I can see the great room concept is going to be fantastic, but I have tile in the kitchen, a different tile in the dining room, and the disgusting brown carpet in the living room, all of which can now be seen from yet the third type of tile in the entry. I need to rip everything out so I can hire someone to smooth the foundation and then Jack and I can lay the hardwood planks.”

“You know, your mom and I would be happy to lend you—”

“Nope. I told you when I bought the place last year that I wanted to do this myself. I’m doing fine, I have a firm budget, so if I have to live in an incomplete house for a couple of months, I’m okay.”

Or, I thought, a couple of years.

I considered what Faith said about Sergio not asking for help because of his pride. If I was in real dire straits—like I couldn’t pay my mortgage or had an emergency that my savings didn’t cover—I would go to my parents and knew they would help as much as they could. Sergio let Faith help him with the paperwork in his custody battle, so why wouldn’t he go to her or Antonio for help before pleading guilty to a capital crime of which he might be innocent?

We went into the kitchen where my mom checked on the casserole. My mom was an okay cook, it just wasn’t her favorite thing to do. Her mom, my abuela? Amazing in the kitchen, but that’s not surprising since she ran a taco stand outside the courthouse for years, which turned into a food truck, which turned into more food trucks, then into a business my Uncle Tom now ran—along with his own family restaurant. Aunt Rita often made huge pots of stew or soup that she shared with our clan. My Aunt Rita was one of those people who cooked to alleviate stress, and everything was delicious.

“Cooper,” Mom said as she moved to the stove where she was warming tortillas, “get Margo a beer.”

“I’m good,” I said.

“I found that winter porter you like,” Mom said.

“I thought they were all sold-out.”

“I know people,” Mom said with a smile.

“Just one,” I said. “Save the rest for Sunday dinner.”

Dad poured the microbrew specialty beer into a chilled mug and handed it to me.

I nibbled on chips and salsa and Lulu—only family called my little sister Lulu—came in. “I got these,” she said to Mom and took over cooking the tortillas. Nico and I exchanged a relieved glance. Mom regularly burned tortillas.

“Mom, what do you know about the foster care system?” I asked. “Specifically, Kinship Care, where a relative can take a kid into their home, like if the parent is in prison?”

“That’s a heavy question,” she said.

“Just something I’m working on.”

“Kinship Caregiving was instituted to help streamline the process for relatives to take in children—such as a grandchild when the parent can no longer take care of their needs for whatever reason. But layers of rules and regulations have made it nearly as cumbersome as the foster care system. Still, it’s better than having these children in a stranger’s home. As long as the environment is safe and the child is well cared for, I think the government should get out of the way.”

“Do you and Aunt Rita handle cases like that?”

“I haven’t, personally, but Rita has some experience, especially if there’s a custody issue. Most of the time you don’t need a lawyer. The process is straightforward—just extensive. You have someone who needs guidance?”

“Maybe.” I hesitated, then gave a version of the truth. “An acquaintance has been trying to gain guardianship of his minor siblings.” I gave her a brief rundown and explained how the social worker canceled two home visits. “I want to understand the process and how I might be able to help him.”

“I’ll ask Rita tomorrow, see if she knows of an advocate. This isn’t my area of expertise.”

“Thanks,” I said, grateful when Jack walked into the house so I could avoid any more probing questions. Jack had brought my nephew, Austin, who was also the love of my life. Austin was three and a half.

“Grandma!” Austin ran full speed and hugged Mom around her knees. “Auntie Margo! Uncle Nico! Wanna see my lizard?”

He reached into his pockets and a bunch of rocks and toys fell out and bounced on the wood floor. He didn’t notice and held up a rubber lizard by the tail. “Mommy hates lizards, but I think they’re cool. I want a real lizard. In a t-t-ter’im.”

“Terrarium,” Jack pronounced clearly.

“Yeah, a glass cage,” Austin said, holding his arms out as far as they could go to show a big enclosure.

Nico got down on the floor and motioned to Austin. “Help me pick up these cool rocks so no one steps on them.”

Austin dropped to help gather the rocks, telling Nico where he found each one.

Jack walked over to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. “Where’s Whitney?” Mom asked.

“It’s her bunco night.”

I didn’t say anything, but exchanged a brief glance with my mom. She knew I didn’t like Whitney. It was so damn typical that she would bail on family dinner. Even Sundays, which were almost mandatory, Whitney showed up maybe half the time. It bothered Jack, but he never talked to me about it because he knew I didn’t like his wife.

I wish I did, because I loved my brother and I loved my nephew. I wanted someone who was perfect for him.

Whitney wasn’t that person.

But I kept my mouth closed. Mostly. Jack would do everything to make his marriage work because that was the man he was. I just wish I could say the same about Whitney.

Tess walked in from the garage with a stack of books, plopped them on the table. “Sorry, traffic was a mess.”

She squatted and accepted Austin leaping into her arms for a hug.

Tess was in her last year of law school at ASU and lived with Mom and Dad to save money. Like Mom, she first graduated from the University of Arizona with a dual degree in criminal justice and history. She had recently gone through a bad breakup—she’d been engaged to a guy we all kind of liked (okay, I didn’t, but I also tend to be more judgmental than the rest of my family) after dating him for two years. Then, as they started talking about a wedding date and sat down with our priest, he broke it off and said he didn’t think she was “the one” for him.

It tore her apart. Tess was eighteen months older than me and out of all of us, she’s the one who most wanted a traditional family. Husband, lots of kids, house in the same neighborhood she grew up in. She had recently started to date again, but was being super cautious so we hadn’t met anyone yet.

“Cooper, honey, can you get the casserole from the oven? Margo, the salad in the fridge...oh, darn, I need to heat up the beans.”

“I got it, Mom,” Jack said and retrieved them from the fridge to pop in the microwave.

Five minutes later, we were sitting around the table. Sundays were our regular family dinner, though half the time we went to my grandparents’ or Aunt Rita’s. But it wasn’t uncommon to get a text from Mom a couple times a month with an open-ended, “Dad and I would love to see you! I’ll have plenty for dinner.” Like we all got this morning.

Now, we were waiting for Lulu’s announcement. After dinner, I hoped to have time to pick Jack’s brain about the Cactus Stop shooting, but he wouldn’t stay late since it was a thirty-minute drive to his house in Litchfield Park.

We chatted and ate and Lu was surprisingly quiet. Something was up with her. Tess and I exchanged looks. A boy? Could be. Lu was studious, but she’d been dating Steven Prince since she was allowed to date at sixteen (and probably earlier than that). Mom and Dad liked him, knew his family well. He had accepted an athletic scholarship to Baylor, so I wouldn’t be surprised if Lu announced she was going there. It was a good school.

Mom said, “Okay, Luisa, you’ve been quiet all night, and you’re the one who called this family dinner.” She folded her napkin and placed it next to her empty plate. “You have our undivided attention.”

All of us, even fidgeting, chatty Austin, turned to Lu. My sister was gorgeous in every sense of the word. Dark wavy hair that she often straightened into a shiny waterfall, huge round brown eyes, pale brown skin that never hosted a pimple. She was athletic and strong and disciplined, and we all suspected she was our parents’ secret favorite. But somehow, none of us were bothered by that.

I loved Lu but had always felt a bit disconnected from her. She was eleven when I left for Fort Hood, which included an eighteen-month deployment at Al Udeid Air Base in Qatar in the middle of my six-year enlistment. She grew from a bratty, sensitive, smart (and smart-ass) younger sister into an intelligent teenager with her own interests and life, much of which I knew little about.

Lu put her hands in her lap and I sensed she was nervous. Why?

What if she’s pregnant?

I don’t know why that was the first thought to pop into my head, but she was definitely not acting herself.

“I enlisted in the Marines today,” Lu said.

Silence around the table. I glanced at everyone, and realized that not only did no one expect such a declaration, but no one knew it was even a possibility. Ihadn’t even considered it...

Then I remembered a conversation I had with Lu a few months ago. We’d been cleaning up after family dinner, just she and I, and she asked questions about my time in the Army. What I liked the most, what I disliked. I gave her some flip answers, but when she pressed, I had said, “I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life after high school. I didn’t want to sit in a classroom for four more years. I really didn’t know who I was. I know that sounds weird—I’ve never lacked for confidence or friends or things to do. But I didn’t want to go through the motions anymore. I thought separating from the family and being completely on my own—but with the structure and training the military provided—would help me...well, I guess, be the best me.” I laughed, because that sounded silly.

“Did it help?” she’d asked, not laughing.

“Yes,” I said honestly. “I needed to find out who I was without the Angelhart name. Don’t get me wrong, I love Mom and Dad and everyone else. I love our huge family and grandparents and hundreds of cousins. And honestly, I missed home a lot more than I thought I would. But going through basic training, meeting people from all over the country, all different backgrounds, and having a common goal? Yeah, it made me a better person.”

Lu didn’t laugh at me, and I was relieved I hadn’t sounded foolish. “Why the Army?” she asked.

“That’s easy. Dad was in the Army, so I went Army.”

“And what did you dislike the most?”

“The food,” I said without hesitation, and we both laughed.

Thinking back on that conversation, I now knew that Lu had been considering enlisting for a long time.

“Why the Marines?” I asked when no one spoke for a good twenty seconds.

Lu glanced at me and looked grateful that I had broken the silence. “For my entire life everything has come easy to me. I’m not complaining, Mom, Dad, I’m really not. But I’ve always done well in school, in sports, anything I tried. I got the first job I applied for when I was fifteen. I was accepted into all five colleges I applied to, with scholarships. I should be happy with the choices I have, and I am, but I don’t want to go to college right now. The Marines isn’t easy. They have a rigorous basic training, and I want the challenge. I want to prove I can do it. That I can be better, stronger, smarter. Part of a team.”

“What about ROTC?” Mom said, her voice cracking. “Go to college and go through ROTC, you’d graduate as an officer, have more opportunities.”

“I considered it,” Lu said, “but I don’t know that I want to be career military. So I enlisted for three years.”

“You—without talking to us?” Mom said.

“I’m eighteen. I don’t need your permission.”

Though her tone wasn’t defiant, the words were. Jack and I exchanged a look, but didn’t say anything. I’d talked to Mom and Dad for months before making the decision to enlist, so they were prepared even if it wasn’t the path they envisioned for me. Like with Lu, they wanted me to go to college first. But the difference between me and Lu was that I was a B student. School wasn’t my thing, never had been. Lu loved school. She was a straight-A student. She was the type of kid who was supposed to go to college and thrive.

No one was standing up for Lu. They were surprised and hurt. I didn’t fault them—but I felt for my sister.

“Only you know what path you should take,” I said. “It won’t be easy, but nothing is better than graduating after basic training and knowing that you are among the best of the best.”

Lu smiled at me again, and I felt her gratitude. “Mom, Dad,” Lu said, “I prayed about this. I talked to Uncle Rafe. Don’t get mad at him,” she added quickly at Mom’s expression. “I asked him not to say anything.”

Uncle Rafe was my mom’s much younger brother and an ordained Catholic priest. He’d recently been transferred to St. Dominic’s, the small church close to my house.

“I would really like your support.” Lu sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

“We will always support you,” Dad said. “This threw us for a minute, but whatever you do with your life, you will shine. I have no doubt.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Right, Ava?” Dad said pointedly to Mom.

“Yes. When?” Mom said, her voice clipped.

“After graduation.”

That was four months from now.

“What about Steven?” Tess asked.

“We’ve already talked about it a lot,” Lu said. “He supports my decision.”

Mom’s face fell even more, if that was possible. That Lu had talked to her boyfriend and not her family hurt. I felt for my mom, but I understood why Lu did it this way.

Nico said, “We’re all happy for you if you’re happy.”

“I am,” Lu said. “I feel deep down that this is the best decision for me. My ASVAB scores were high and I’m meeting with my recruiter next week to look at options for training. I qualify for pretty much anything I want to do.”

“Of course you did well,” Mom said, her chin up. “You do well in everything you set your mind to.”

And that was mom’s way of saying she supported Lu, even if she didn’t agree with her decision.