27. Amaya

27

AMAYA

SEVEN YEARS OLD

“ W hat does that say?" My head kind of hurts trying to read the upside-down paper.

Mom pulls it to her and doesn't look at me when she says, "Jenkins Realty."

"What does Jenkins mean?"

"Oh my god, Amaya. It's a last name. Don't be stupid." She sounds distracted, but her words still make my tummy twist.

I know she's busy, but I want to know what it is. "What does realty mean?"

"It means," Mom snaps, but she still won’t look at me, too busy with whatever she's writing on her notepad. "These people sell houses."

Oh. That's cool. "Is that what my daddy does, too?"

Mom's head snaps up so fast I jump a little and drop my fork full of spaghetti. "You do not have a daddy ." She says daddy like it's a bad word, kind of how Nana does when Mommy says an adult word.

"But Nana said?—"

Her face turns red and scary. "I don't care what that old bitch said, you have no dad, Amaya. This is why we're fucking moving," Mom grumbles and finishes her big girl drink; that's what Nana calls it. I prefer that name to what Mommy says it is. She says it's her way to forget about me.

Mommy's always mad. I don't really know what I do to bother her. Sometimes I ask her things and she gets upset, but she never tells me why what I said was wrong. Everything I say is wrong, I think. Normally I stay quiet when it's just me and Mom, but I was just wondering what the sheet of paper said that looked so important. I only have more questions now, and a sick feeling in my tummy.

"We're moving?"

She barks a laugh. "Sometimes I wonder why I would take you with me, but I can't have your grandmother ruining my offspring now, can I?"

I feel myself frown. It’s the thing that Nana says will give me forehead lines, but I don't understand what's happening.

"Why are we moving?"

"Do you not listen?!"

I flinch and rethink my response. "Can I come see houses with you?" I ask softly so my tone doesn't upset her further.

"Oh, you can learn. Yes, you'll see how much better life is once we aren't suffocating under this roof."

This roof? This is home, though. Where I've always lived. I love it here. But it can't hurt to meet these Jenkins people and see what they do.

I bet they are old like my mom. OH! Maybe they know my dad!