Tao Ne Sini / Macehualli
Caine came up the front walk a step behind Sara, his keys already in his hand, the sun cutting at an angle through the live oaks across the street and laying long shadows on the brick pavers. A garbage truck worked its way down the cross street with the steady mechanical heave of its hydraulics. Sara walked with her purse on her shoulder and her phone in her hand, her thumb moving across the screen, her sandals clicking soft on the brick.
Caine unlocked the door and pushed it open, holding it for Sara as she walked past him into the house. He followed her in and turned the deadbolt back into place behind them, setting set his keys in the dish on the entry table and walked past Sara into the kitchen.
Sara dropped her purse on the kitchen island and pushed her hair back from her temple with the heel of her hand.
"How long did your PO give you?"
Caine pulled the refrigerator open and looked inside, his hand on the door. "Seventy-two hours. He ain't worried about me. Got some Crips he got who just got out of Pelican Bay."
"I hope you're staying away from that, mijo."
He let the refrigerator door swing shut and walked across the kitchen to the back of the house. He stopped a foot short of the French doors and put his hands in his pockets.
"Of course. School keeping us busy."
A breeze moved through the crepe myrtles at the back of the yard and the bare branches shifted and settled. Caine watched the water for a second more, then turned back to face his mother across the kitchen.
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
Sara looked up at him from where her hand still rested on her purse. "I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't sure."
"No one is in the other house yet."
"I know. That's where I'm going to go."
Caine sighed and shook his head once. "No me gusta cómo me lo soltó así de repente."
Sara held his eyes for a beat, the line of her mouth softening a fraction, then nodded toward the kitchen table. "Siéntate, mijo."
Caine crossed the kitchen and pulled out the chair at the corner of the table closest to the island. He sat with his elbow on the wood, his hand coming up to rest along his jaw. Sara walked over and stood next to him, her hand coming up to run through his dreads from the crown of his head down to where they fell past his shoulders.
"What all did Mireya tell you?"
"That she stripping, tricking, pregnant and the baby mine."
Sara's hand paused at the back of his neck, then started moving again, slower, working through to the ends. "I need you to give her some grace. She's dealing with—a lot of terrible things."
Caine's jaw worked once under his hand. "She should've… could've come with me to Statesboro. Or, for damn sure, to Los Angeles."
"The past is the past. Mireya did what she thought she needed to do. Whatever you do, you can't put more blame on her. Anyone, but especially you. Your opinion holds a lot of space in her heart."
A short laugh pushed out of Caine's nose and he turned his head toward Sara, his hand dropping off his jaw and onto the table. "Are we talking about the same person?"
"Just listen to me, mijo. It does. You could break her completely if you push her away. Y esa es la madre de tus hijos."
Caine pressed his fingertips down against the wood and let them ease. "I ain't, but fuck. She was stubborn before, but now? You know she told me if I didn't want her to have the kid, I had to make her take the pills? Eso me ha estado jodiendo la cabeza."
Sara's hand went still in his hair for a beat. Her thumb moved against his temple, then resumed her work down the length of his locks. "Like I said. Give her grace. Remember, Maria has washed her hands of her."
"You know how I feel about Mireya, mamá. I just need her to stop fucking fighting me on everything. You know she's gonna fight on this."
"She's a proud, stubborn woman and the things she's had to deal with have only made her more stubborn. It's going to take time."
Caine pulled in a breath through his nose and let his shoulders drop on the exhale. "Vale, vale. A menos que me muera de estrés."
Sara's hand came off his hair and rested on his shoulder, a small smile pulling at her mouth. "How do you feel about becoming a father of two, mijo?"
"At least I got money this time."
"Need more than that to raise a child, but you should already know that."
"Yeah."
He laughed, his shoulders moving with it as he tipped his head back to look up at her. "You ready for a Cainito?"
Sara shook her head, the smile still on her mouth. "I don't think you'll be so lucky."
"Hey, we need some more boys in this family. Where that church you be going to now? I'll go light some damn candles and ask La Vigenita."
Sara rolled her eyes and stepped away from the chair, walking toward the refrigerator. She pulled the door open and reached in for a carton of eggs and set it on the counter next to the stove then went back in for a package of chorizo, a bell pepper, an onion, lining the items up on the granite next to the burners.
~~~
The breezeway smelled like rain that hadn't fallen yet, the concrete dark in patches under the overhang where the wind had pushed mist in overnight. Frankie walked between Mireya and Sena, her bag bumping her hip with every step, her sneakers squeaking against the slick spots. Frankie’s eyes cut sideways at Mireya as they passed the second-floor laundry room.
"You not slick trying to keep us away from your baby daddy."
A laugh pushed out of Mireya's nose. "Believe me, I'm not. I'm just enjoying not having to parent today since he's in town."
"You could not parent all the time if you'd bring your ass to Los Angeles to be a rich nigga's baby mama."
Mireya rolled her eyes as Sena slid her key into the deadbolt. The lock turned with a heavy clack and Sena pushed the door open with her shoulder, holding it for them as they filed past her.
They walked into the warm, close air of the apartment. Priya and Cassidy were on the couch with the TV running at half volume, a podcast host moving her hands across a kitchen set. Priya had her legs folded under her, her phone face-down on the cushion beside her. Cassidy had a coffee mug pressed flat against her sternum, both hands wrapped around it. In the middle of the living room, where there had been nothing but open carpet yesterday, a chrome pole now stood between two metal plates, one bolted into the floor and one fastened to the ceiling, bright under the kitchen pendant.
Sena stopped two paces inside, her chin lifting toward it. "Where did that come from?"
"I'm about to start making content," Cassidy said over her mug.
"Go ahead now," Frankie said, tapping her fingertip against her thumb. "Everyone love some ginger spice cake."
"She doesn't mean OF," Priya said, eyes still on her phone.
"Oh, yeah." Cassidy waved her free hand. "I've been doing stripperobics for exercise. I'm gonna start posting videos on TikTok."
Mireya crossed the carpet to the pole and wrapped her hand around it. The chrome was cold under her palm, the surface slick with whatever spray had been putting on it. She leaned her weight against it, then again harder, watching the ceiling plate. Nothing moved. She turned her head toward Cassidy.
"You good?"
A laugh broke out of Cassidy and she shook her head. "I'm so afraid to do anything too crazy."
"I hope y'all thought about the deposit when y'all were putting that up," Sena said.
"You better hope her content creation career takes off," Priya said, pointing at Cassidy.
Mireya set her purse down on the arm of the couch and bent at the waist. She worked the pin at the base of the pole loose between her thumb and forefinger and pulled it. She gave the pole a quarter turn under her grip to test it. It moved smooth and silent under her hand.
"Bitch, don't hurt yourself getting up on that," Frankie said, folding her arms and leaning a hip against the back of the couch.
Mireya laughed as she reached up high, her hand finding chrome above her head, and stepped back to plant her weight on the balls of her feet. Then she pulled, lifting off the carpet in one clean draw, her legs swinging forward with her, and she let her thighs catch the pole as she tipped sideways into the spin. One leg hooked behind her at the calf, the other extended out long with the foot pointed. She drew her weight in toward her hands and tightened the spin, passing under the pendant once, then again.
She came around once, brushed her foot against the carpet for half a beat, then pushed off again. This time she let her body open against the centripetal pull, both legs swinging out wide, kicking through the air in alternating V's, the muscles along her inner thighs working to keep her ankles flexed and her toes pointed.
"Aye! Fuck it up, bitch," Frankie said, tipping her head back with a loud laugh.
Mireya pulled herself up the pole hand over hand, her shoulders working as she climbed two of her own body lengths off the floor. At the top she scissored her legs through the open air, hooked her ankles together behind the chrome, and locked her arms in a hold that pushed her body horizontal, parallel to the floor, her legs spread wide on either side of the pole. She moved her legs in a slow wave, one and then the other, working from her hip down through her quad to her ankle, then back the other way.
"Now I'm really intimidated," Cassidy said.
Priya laughed at the same moment Sena cleared her throat. Sena had watched Mireya from the moment she'd left the floor, her eyes tracking each rotation. She turned her head toward the kitchen now, her hand still hooked around the strap of the bag on her shoulder.
Mireya hooked her foot around the pole and started her descent, slow, controlled only by her legs. She found Sena's eyes halfway down. Sena met her look, broke off, looked back. Mireya let her smirk show at the corner of her mouth as she kept sliding, the muscles in her legs working against gravity to hold the pace. Her arms touched carpet. She rolled off the pole stood up to her full height, a step in front of Sena with her back to her. Then she turned her chin over her shoulder and winked.
Sena rolled her lips into her mouth.
"Don't tell us you be stripping on the side and that's how you got all that designer," Frankie said, clapping once.
Mireya laughed and shook her head, taking a step away from the pole and from Sena both. She fixed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Stripprobics, too. How do you think I look like this after having a kid?"
"You need to start taxing niggas online to watch you do that."
"Yeah, you're like really good," Cassidy said, lowering the mug from her chest to her thigh.
Priya nodded, her eyebrows up. "Even I was a little turned on and I'm straight."
A quick laugh broke out of Mireya. "I'm good."
She glanced across the living room and caught Sena's eyes still on her. Mireya let her eyes pass over her, slow, and the corner of her mouth pulled into a smirk.
~~~
Ramon had the lawn chair pulled out to the edge of the curb where the concrete cracked into the grass strip. The aluminum frame had bent in twice and he'd straightened it back out twice, the webbing on the seat frayed at the corners but still holding. He sat low in it with his legs stretched out, one ankle crossed over the other, a half-empty can of Coke sweating into his palm. The block was thin this afternoon, two kids on bikes a few houses down, somebody's dog barking through a chain link fence, a window unit dripping into a puddle on the driveway across the street. The asphalt threw heat back up at his calves where the sun had been working it since noon.
A black coupe rolled up slowly and braked along the curb in front of him, the engine running for a beat before it cut. Ant got out from the driver’s side, pushed the door shut with his elbow, and walked around the back of the car to the sidewalk. He stopped a few feet from the chair with his hands in the pockets of his shorts. Ramon kept his eyes on him without lifting his head off the back of the chair.
"Them niggas Yola, Shad and Scotty come through here?" Ant said.
Ramon raised an eyebrow at him over the rim of the can.
"Ain't them niggas who work for you?" Ramon said. "Why you asking me where your soldiers at?"
"Not today, nigga. The other day."
Ramon sucked his teeth and took a slow pull off the Coke. He set the can down on the concrete next to the chair leg, his palm wet, his thumb wiping the condensation off on his shorts.
"Don't be coming around here questioning me like I fucking work for you. Them niggas came through here talking about trying to get shit running now that Trell gone."
"You should've shot me a text and told me that.”
"Nigga, I just said I don't work for you.”
Ant worked his jaw to one side and back, looked down the block toward where the kids on the bikes had stopped at the corner, then back at Ramon. The sun was hard across the side of his face, his fade fresh, the line above his ear still sharp. He pulled the right hand out of his pocket and rubbed it against the back of his neck before letting it drop to his side. The other hand stayed in his shorts pocket, the fabric tugging where his fist had closed inside it.
"That's all they were talking about?"
"What you worried about them trying to backdoor you?"
Ant stared at Ramon for a beat, then shook his head once.
"Shit just taking longer than I expected to get back up," Ant said. "Some niggas ain't too happy about that. Think I'm hiding money from them."
Across the street the window unit dripped twice, paused, dripped again. Ramon shrugged. He uncrossed his ankles and crossed them the other way, his foot bouncing once before it went still.
"Thought y'all knew how to keep motherfuckers happy," Ramon said. "Get some hoes over there or something."
Ant sucked his teeth. "That shit was goofy. I don't know why Trell and Peanut did that shit."
"'Cause niggas will do a lot of shit for some pussy," Ramon said.
Ant nodded once and pulled one hand out of his pocket, pointing at Ramon with two fingers. He took a step closer to the chair before he spoke.
"That's right," Ant said. "Just make sure you remember that the next time some niggas working for me come talk to you about our business."
Ramon snorted a laugh.
"Alright, big brudda," Ramon said. "I got you."
Ant held the look on him another second, then turned and walked back around the front of the car. He pulled the driver door open, dropped into the seat, and shut it. The engine turned over. He pulled off down the block, the coupe getting small in the heat shimmer over the asphalt before it took the corner and was gone.
~~~
The door's deadbolt gave under Mireya's key with a heavy turn and she stepped into the kitchen out of the cold. She dropped her keys into the dish on the counter. Sara had left the under-cabinet strip on and the kitchen sat in that long bar of yellow, the rest of the room dark, the dishwasher humming on its dry cycle with a faint plastic tick at the end of every rotation.
She heard them before she got to the foot of the stairs. Camila reading, the words coming out careful and a little too loud, Caine's voice underneath in that low register he only used with her, asking something, then Camila laughing the deep belly laugh she gave up only when she felt completely safe.
Mireya stopped with her hand on the banister. The other hand went to her stomach. She held it there flat against the skin beneath the hem of her shirt. She shook her head at herself and started up.
Camila's door stood half open and the spill of the lamp from inside cut a long yellow strip across the floorboards out into the hallway. Mireya pushed the door open with her fingertips.
They were on the rug in the middle of the floor. Caine on his side, propped on one elbow, his chin in his palm. Camila on her stomach next to him, knees bent, ankles crossed in the air behind her, a hardcover picture book open between her elbows. She was reading from it with a slow careful deliberation. Then she'd stop reading altogether and start telling Caine what was actually happening on the page, all the things the book hadn't said, who the bears were related to, which monkey had a brother and why the wolves stayed on their side of the river.
Camila looked up.
She was on her feet in a second, the book forgotten on the rug behind her, and she ran across the room and crashed into Mireya's legs hard enough that Mireya had to plant her back foot to keep her balance. Both of Camila's arms went around her thigh and she squeezed and pressed her cheek into the fabric of her leggings.
"Mami! Look, I'm teaching daddy about the bears and the wolves and the monkeys!" Camila said.
A laugh came up out of Mireya and she put her hand on the top of Camila's head, smoothing the curls back where they'd been pressed flat against her thigh.
"I see that," Mireya said. "But what are you doing up? It's past your bedtime."
"Daddy said I could," Camila said into her leg.
"Se quedó en la guardería, no en la prepa," Caine said from the rug. "Quedarse despierta hasta tarde un sábado no le va a hacer daño."
Mireya rolled her eyes. "A eso se le llama rutina, Caine.”
He shook his head and pushed up to sitting. He crooked two fingers at Camila.
"Mi vida, come find another book to show me," Caine said. "I need to talk to mami."
Camila let go of Mireya's leg and ran across the room to the little bookshelf in the corner, dropping into a crouch in front of it. She started pulling books out one at a time, examining each cover and putting it back, the small motor of her concentration absorbing her completely. Caine got up off the rug in one push and tilted his chin across the hall toward the guest room.
"Tenemos que hablar ya mismo," Caine said.
Mireya shook her head and turned to follow him out. At the doorway she turned back over her shoulder.
"We're just over here, mi amor," Mireya said. "We'll only be a second."
"Okay, mami!" Camila called without looking up from the bookshelf.
Mireya stepped into the guest room behind Caine and pushed the door most of the way closed. Mireya crossed her arms.
"What?"
Caine reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small white envelope. The flap was tucked. He pulled it open with his thumb and tilted it so the two debit cards inside slid against each other and showed their faces. Plain blue plastic.
He held the envelope out to her.
"This is for you," Caine said. "I opened it today, told them I'm going to transfer it over to you so you just gotta go in Monday and talk to a banker, they'll call me and I can take my name off there over the phone."
Her eyes went down to the cards, then back up to his face. Her arms tightened around her middle.
"I'm not taking that," Mireya said. "You're not going to own me."
Caine ran his hand down his face slowly, from his hairline to his chin, and dropped it.
"It's two hundred thousand fucking dollars, Mireya," Caine said. "For you to use for whatever. What do you mean you're not going to take it?"
"No vas a ser mi dueño," Mireya said. "Just tell me what I have to do for that now so I can shoot it down and we can move on."
"Nothing," Caine said. "Other than help me take care of our children."
"From 3,000 miles away.”
"You are the fu—"
His voice came up too loud for the small room and he caught it. He closed his eyes. He pulled a long breath in through his nose and held it before he let it out again.
"Please, Mireya," Caine said. "Just take it. If you don't want to use it, don't. Just make sure that you don't let them close the account with the money in it."
Mireya stared at him, letting the silence stretch a beat longer than was comfortable. Then she reached out and snatched the envelope out of his hand. The cards shifted inside it with a small plastic clack.
"I'm not quitting my job," Mireya said.
"Okay, Mireya.” He waited for a beat then he kept going. "I talked to mi mama about it and you can move in here with Camila," Caine said. "Mi mama is going to move to the other house."
Mireya's mouth opened. Caine put his hand up between them flat-palmed, fingers spread, before she could get a sound out.
"I'm not asking you to do shit for it," Caine said. "If you don't believe me, go down the hall and ask mi mama. I'm going to keep paying everything. You can contribute to what you want."
She brought her thumb up to her mouth and bit on the side of it, the second knuckle resting against her bottom lip. She stayed there for a long beat, eyes on him, the envelope wrinkling in her other hand where she'd closed her fist around it. Then she nodded.
"Okay," Mireya said. "But don't call me in a month changing your mind."
"Can you just let me do shit?"
She held both her hands up, the envelope sticking up from her fingers. Then she tilted her head back over her shoulder toward the hall.
"Did you tell her?"
Caine shook his head.
"Let's go then," Mireya said.
They came back across the hall. Camila was on the rug again with three books spread out in front of her in a fan, her hair in her face, her finger moving over the cover of the middle one. She looked up when they came in. Whatever she saw on their faces stopped her finger. Caine sat down on the floor in front of her at the edge of the rug, his legs stretched out in front of him. Mireya sat on the edge of the bed next to where he'd dropped, the envelope still in her hand. She set it on the comforter beside her thigh.
"Ven acá, mi vida," Caine said. "I got something I want to tell you."
Camila looked between them. She pressed her lips together and the smile she'd had a second ago thinned at the corners.
"Nothing's wrong, baby," Caine said. "You didn't do anything wrong."
She got up off the rug and walked the three steps over to him. He reached out and lifted her by the waist and sat her down across his lap, her bare feet hanging off his thigh. He ran his hand over her hair, smoothing the curls back behind her ear, then let his palm rest flat on the top of her head.
"You know me and mami love you so much, yeah?" Caine said.
Camila nodded under his hand. She turned her head and looked over at Mireya. Mireya smiled at her.
"I need you to help me take care of mami for the next few months because she's pregnant with a little brother or sister for you," Caine said.
Camila's eyes went wide. She turned her head and looked at Caine, then back at Mireya, then at Caine again.
"¿En serio?" Camila said, her voice a low gasp.
"Si, mi amor," Mireya said. "Are you ready to be a big sister?"
Camila nodded fast, the curls bouncing and falling back into her face. Then she looked up at Caine and the nodding stopped.
"Does this mean you're coming home, daddy?" Camila said.
Caine shook his head once. Camila's chin dropped toward her chest.
"Escúchame, mi vida," Caine said. He hooked two fingers under her chin and lifted it back up so her eyes met his again. "I want you to always remember how much I love you. You're my whole world."
"Y yo a ti, daddy," Camila said.
"Come see, mi amor," Mireya said.
Camila slid off Caine's lap and walked over to Mireya, stopping in the gap between Mireya's knees. Mireya put both her hands on Camila's shoulders and rubbed her thumbs along the bones of them.
"You have anything you want to ask me?"
Camila pointed at Mireya's stomach. "Are they in your belly?"
Mireya nodded. Camila bent forward and pressed her ear flat against Mireya's stomach, her hands coming up to brace on Mireya's thighs. She held there for a few seconds with her eyes closed in concentration then pulled back.
"I don't hear them," Camila said.
Mireya laughed "When they get bigger, baby, they'll kick and you can feel it.”
Camila's eyes went wide and her mouth opened in a small O. She put her ear back down against Mireya's stomach.
Caine got up off the rug and crossed the small distance to the bed. He leaned over Mireya, one hand braced flat on the comforter beside her hip.
"Gracias," Caine said, low.
"¿Para qué?" Mireya said.
"Dejame ocuparme de nosotros ahora," Caine said.
Mireya reached up and caught the back of his neck with her free hand. She pulled him down to her and kissed him.
"Ahora," Mireya said against his mouth, "vete a casa con tus putas de Los Ángeles."
Her name was supposed to be Kennedi but Soapy used it for an AKA in Damaged Petals so I had to change it.
) have pre-conditioned her to not readily accept gentle, unconditional love and care.