Misery Loves Company

Track 6: Lights, Camera, Action (Part I)

Misery Loves Company

By: theinkslingerr

Track 6: Lights, Camera, Action (Part I)

Mrs. Paula Consuela Diaz had a pretty face, but when she opened the door in a fluffy yellow bathrobe, I wondered if she was currently in control of her mental faculties.

Because Enid's Mom wasn't small, and the robe made her look like an enormous chicken.

An enormous chicken I loved dearly, but still.

"Hey mija," she cooed, kissing me. "Just because you're pretty enough to have two boyfriends at the same time, doesn't mean you should." She winked before letting me, Rocco, and Eli into the house.

"Hmm..." Rocco frowned. "As an only child, I'm not used to sharing, so if Misery and I were dating, I'd have to keep her all to myself."

I glared daggers and adjusted the strap of my messenger bag while Paula pecked both of his cheeks. "I'm Rocco," he said. "You must be Enid's older sister."

"Ooh," Paula giggled, tickled pink. "I like you. Call me Paula, sweetie."

Eli shook his head and whispered, "He's Mom heroin. They can't get enough."

I sighed. Mom heroin. Of course.

"And what's your name, handsome?" Paula asked, catching Eli off-guard with his own set of kisses.

He cleared his throat, a little shy. "Um...Elijah, ma'am."

Rocco made a face at him then our eyes met, and we just smiled, because Eli was so darn cute when he was flustered.

"Is Enid downstairs, Mamá?" I asked, heading toward the basement door. In fifth grade when Enid started bringing me around, Paula had insisted I call her "Mamá," and kindly enforced it by smacking me with a wooden spoon any time "Mrs. Diaz" slipped out. Needless to say, it quickly became second nature.

Paula had always been pleasantly plump, sported the typical Mom haircut (short, but flared with side-swept bangs) and made the best tres leches I'd ever tasted.

There were fond memories of her warm dinners when I got tired of the frozen ones at home, pulling all-nighters on school projects, and even kisses that seemed to heal scrapes and scratches. She was there when I got my period for the first time and scarred me and Enid (for life) with a graphic puppet show of the Birds and the Bees. I talked to Paula about everything from getting rid of acne to boys and why they never liked me.

So when I called her Mamá...I meant it.

Suddenly, my chest felt tight. Sharp nerves threatened the clarity I found at the park.

If I lost Enid, I'd lose Paula too.

I'd lose Mamá.

"Yup, downstairs. You know she never comes up," Paula sighed in exasperation. "Have you eaten already? I've got pork chops and rice and beans in the fridge."

"I'm fine," I said smiling. "Thanks."

Paula's eyes narrowed.

Crap.

These past two days had seriously fried my brain. Why else would I make a rookie mistake and turn down food in Paula Consuela Diaz's house?

When Paula offered you food- you ate. It really didn't matter if you were hungry or not. Because if she didn't see you eating something with her own eyes that meant you'd starved all day.