Chapter 20

20

You'd think being confronted by a nasty old brat like Erika at close range like this would rattle me more, but I've had plenty of experience from Sonya, who enjoys startling us with intimidation tactics like it's some kind of Latine female elder Olympic sport.

"Yes?" I ask, crossing my arms.

She begins to tell me off in Spanish. Based on her facial expressions, and the way she's waving her arms like an octopus, I'm sure she's calling me all kinds of colorful phrases. But I barely understand my family's Mexican American Spanglish, so this is not having the effect she wants. At a certain point, she stops and narrows her eyes. "You don't even know Spanish?" she hisses at me. "All you know is English?"

"Is the language of one colonizer really better than another's?" I ask.

She ignores me. "Fine. En Inglés, since you're so much better than me." See? What on earth can I say to that nonsense? But she goes on, so I don't need to say a damn thing after all. "I don't know who you think you are, threatening me like that in front of my whole family."

My conscience—the Teal I want to be—sprouts up inside me like a hopeful little seedling. I know I can make this better. It's going to be painful but I need to do this for me. "I know." I sigh. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have threatened you."

All the wind is taken out of her sails. She wasn't expecting that, I'll tell you what. But then she scowls as she brushes my apology off, taking one deep breath to keep on putting me in my place. "All you Flores women are the same. Just because you're witches doesn't mean that you can make everyone do your bidding. I won't stand for it."

Well, now I blink. Does she mean witches like a regular derogatory name for women, or does she mean it like…she knows all about our gifts? "What are you talking about, witches ?"

"You know what I mean, just like Nadia always knew what I meant."

" Nadia? " What on earth is happening here? "My tía Nadia? What's she got to do with this?"

Erika, once again, ignores my question. "Your family's specialty is putting men in a…how do you say it? A…" She snaps her fingers. "Hipnosis."

"Hypnosis?" I ask.

"So you do know Spanish." She narrows her eyes at me.

"It's almost the same word."

She rolls her eyes. "I just wanted to tell you that Carter is too smart for your ways. Right now, I am going to go out there and I am going to weep on his shoulder. And when he comes inside, he will punish you for the ill you have done to me. And that's how you know he will always choose me over you." She raises her head. "Just like how Eugenio chose me over Nadia."

"What?" I gasp. "Abuelo Gene and Nadia ?" What kind of television novela did I just step into here?

"You are broken, just like her. Just like your mother, and your sisters. Broken," she spits as she swings the door open and stomps out.

Of all the things she said, I really wish she hadn't ended it on broken . The word echoes inside me like I contain a murmuration of starlings made of chipped glass. It's the only word I know for sure is true. I am broken. I'm trying to fix it, but there's no telling if that's even possible.

As though to prove my point, lightning flashes way too close, followed by thunder so loud, it feels like it's right on my skin like the attack of a wild beast.

Carter barges in just as I begin wiping down the dining table.

"Seriously?" he says, his voice harsh, like shrapnel sliding over gravel. "I asked you to keep the peace with my family, and you pull passive-aggression all meal, and end it with threatening to keep her great-grandkids away from her?"

I don't have the energy for this. "Yes, Carter. I'm a bitch and a horrible person and Erika is the innocent victim of my asshole ways. You have never painted a more accurate picture."

He crosses his arms and his jaw gets tight. "This wasn't the deal. You were supposed to be neutral, if not pleasant, so that she'd believe we were together. A wife needs to act a certain way, you know?"

Well, he went there. So now I have to go there, too. "Well, Carter," I say, throwing the sponge down. "A husband needs to act a certain way when it comes to his wife. And that doesn't include smiling when his grandmother bullies his wife. So it's a good thing what we have is a fake marriage and that you are a fake husband."

He puts a hand on his head and sighs deeply. "I told you that we would have a few growing pains to get through. All you had to do—"

"All I had to do was let her tell me that I ruined you? That I was a shitty wife? That she wanted better for you than me? Seriously, Carter, were we at the same meal? You didn't mention that I would have to suffer abuse from your family in the deal. Maybe you should have said that instead of glossing it over as growing pains ."

His eyes are like fire right now. "She's a cranky old woman with issues, not an abuser. She loves us."

My mouth drops open. "Jesus, Carter." I feel nauseated and I put a hand on my belly. "I can't believe I thought you'd have my back for this." I shake my head as thunder makes the plates stacked on the counter tremble. "So I had to have my own back. I had to stick up for myself and there's nothing wrong with that, no matter what you or anyone says." I'm choking on the words now but I don't even care. "I didn't ruin you and you and I both know it. I'm not a whore or a slut like she called me when I was a little kid. That shit is called verbal abuse and I encourage you to look it up, since you were raised to think it's synonymous with love." I clear my throat as the tears finally fall down my face. "I know what abuse is, Carter. I know what it looks like in all its forms."

Outside, the sky has darkened so much, it looks like night has come at four in the afternoon. Wind rushes by the windows with a series of howls that just make me feel sicker.

Carter's face has fallen. "Teal—" It looks like he is going to apologize and I can't let him. I need to hold on to this. I need to remember this, so the next time I feel weakened by my attraction to Carter, I won't get my heart involved. He doesn't have my back. He will let me down and it will hurt so much worse if I'm stupid enough to open my heart up to him even more than it already is.

I point at him, which ceases his sentence. "Absolutely the fuck not." I race toward the bedroom, where I slam the door. I kick off my lilac heels, the ones that match this dress I so carefully picked perfectly, and pace, running my hands through my hair.

"Teal." Carter knocks on the door. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Erika was crying all over me and I didn't know what to think. I know she started it—"

I swing open the door where he's frozen, his loose fist up, midknock. "You know what she told me before she left?" I take a big, shaky breath. "She said she was going to cry for you, and that you would choose her over me. She planned that shit. She called it. And she and I both knew that she was right."

I'm too upset to even put my shoes on. Instead I race past him, out the back door, through the backyard, through the fence door, until I'm on the beach, barefoot, running into the wildest storm I've seen since I was four years old.