Lo Siento

6

"Hey, Mom!" I say, walking through the front door, with Natalia trailing behind me. It's after 5. I had gone to extra help but Natalia went to the mall with her friends. Mom's car is in the driveway, but it's quiet in the house.

"I'm heading upstairs. Call me if anything." Natalia tells me, looking through her H&M bags.

"Okay," I shrug.

Usually when Mom is home, she'll have the TV on in the living room even if she's not in there watching it and she'll have some of her Spanish music playing on the radio. I don't know why she won't toss all those salsa and conga line CDs and buy some more upbeat and lively music like the rest of our generation. She says her music sounds better than our crap. Whatever.

"Mom!" I call out again, walking into the kitchen.

She's not there. I walk down into our basement to see if she's lounging there. We have it set up like a game room with a pool table, full bar, pinball machines, and games for the PS4 and Xbox joints. Sometimes Mom comes down here to have a few drinks and shoot a round of pool. But, not today.

I go back upstairs and head back into the kitchen. I grab a bag of Doritos and pour myself some apple juice from the fridge. There's a note on the counter from Mom. I straddle a stool at the counter and begin reading it while chomping on a handful of chips.

It read:

Julia And Natalia,

I'm In Delaware With Your Father. Be Back Tomorrow Night, The Earliest Or Two Weeks, Friday, The Latest. There's Money In My Top Drawer If You Need It. Call Me On My Cell If Anything Comes Up. Btw Marisol Cooked You Guys Some Food. It's In The Fridge. - Mom♡

I shake my head. I knew she would run back to Dad like she always does eventually, but in Delaware, I have no idea. I finish up my bag of Doritos, then get up and hit the fridge to see what Marisol cooked.

Marisol is my house cleaner who comes once a week. Sometimes, she may cook.

My stomach growls as I pull out the six containers of chicken, yellow rice, and beans. She also cooked us fried plantains, empanadas, fish balls, baked mac and cheese, with steamed broccoli and a salad.

Truth is, Marisol can cook her ass off.

And I'll give her points for being able to cook amazing Dominican dishes when she's Puerto Rican. I grab a plate out of the cabinet, pile my plate up, then nuke it in the microwave. When the microwave beeps, I remove my plate and sit back down at the counter.

I sit down and give thanks.

I guess I should be happy I have the house to myself. Well, almost. Natalia's here. I rarely get to spend an hour alone by myself.

Thinking of Natalia, I pray again. I pray that she doesn't try to kill me for the next 1-14 days.

I finish eating and scrape my remains in the garbage. Then, put the plate in the sink.

"Hey. It's been an hour since we got home. What were you doing all this time?" Natalia asks me when I reach upstairs.

"And it takes you and hour to try on 3 outfits?" I ask back.

"Touché," says says, folding her clothes.

I snicker.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot!" I say, pulling the note from Mom out of my pocket. "Mom's not gonna be here for a while".