Page 7 of Blue Sky

Burnt Toast

Iraced home as fast as I could while being careful not to drop the remaining enchiladas. Every thought in my head filled me with confusion.

Me? Did he really say that he planned to hire me?

He couldn’t possibly be serious. There were hundreds of people outside his room. Why would he choose me? Was it really as simple as me bringing him the enchiladas?

His baby Sky was adorable. She looked just like her daddy, but had blonde hair. Was her mom blonde? How had she died?

And I hated to admit it, but Mónica had been right about him—he was hot. Gorgeous, even. Ugh, I should not be thinking about my future boss like that. His dark hair, his piercing blue eyes, and the sexy scruff hiding his chiseled face. And that was just his face. His body was ripped. I had tried not to stare at his tattooed bicep. When I hugged him, I couldn’t help but melt into his rock-hard chest. But even if I wasn’t his nanny, he was way out of my league. I pictured his wife to have been some tall gorgeous, classy blonde, with bouncy golden curls and killer legs. In other words, nothing like me.

That must’ve been why he chose me—I must be her complete opposite. I was sure he wasn’t remotely attracted to me. Which was a good thing since he would be my boss.

All that mattered was that I had a job!

I burst back through my door, and the scent of burnt toast immediately overtook my nostrils.

Great, Mama was home.

I didn’t want to tell her about the job. Not yet. Not until I knew for certain that I had it. If I told her now, she would try to sabotage it, because she needed me to take care of the girls. And even though she didn’t watch them, she didn’t want us to move. She needed the girls so she could continue to get money from the government. Mama’s greatest fear was that I would get a job, get custody of the girls, and leave her. Then she would have no money, no place to live, and no one to make her food. It would serve her right.

“¿Dónde estabas?”she barked at me, the thick stench of cheap liquor still on her breath.

“None of your business. Where were you? You didn’t even come home last night.”

Her eyes fell on the enchiladas. “Why are you bringing my food to another house when we are starving? And why are you wearing my nice dress? Were you with a man?”

I forced myself not to explode at her. “No, Mama. I’m not like you.”

Her hand lifted, and before I could duck, her hardened palm slapped against my cheek. “Don’t talk like that to me, Paloma. I am your mother. I would never talk to my Mama the way you speak to me.”

I pressed my hand against my cheek to ease the sting. “Yeah, well I wouldn’t either. Abuela was a good mother. You are cruel and selfish. I wish you had died instead of her!”

The second those words left my mouth, I regretted them. Not because I hadn’t meant them, because I had. But I shouldn’t have stooped to my Mama’s level. After twenty years of emotional abuse and neglect, I was a wreck. I needed to get away from living with her before I lost my mind.

But first, I needed to use her abuse as a way to get what I wanted.

“I don’t feel safe here anymore. I’m going to take the girls tonight to stay for a few weeks at Tío José’s. If you argue with me, then I’ll press charges because you just hit me. Your choice.”

My mama looked away from me. “You can go. I don’t want you here anyway.”

Good. Step one went off without a hitch, unless you counted me getting slapped. Now I just needed her to sign over custody. I placed the enchiladas down and went to get the girls from our room.

Mónica greeted me at the door.

“Did you get it?”

I placed a finger over her mouth and closed the door.

Once safely inside, I whispered, “I think so! He said he would like to offer me the job and would call me!”

“Oh my God! Lo! You did it! When do you start? Do you really think he’s going to hire you?”

I nodded. Even Ana María started jumping up and down, though I wondered if she understood what we were talking about, and how this job would change our lives.

I glanced around our small room. We all slept together on a queen mattress without a frame. But we had dressed it up with homemade pillows, and I had made sure to secure a Princess Elena blanket over the border so Ana María would have something special. But even her pretty blanket couldn’t brighten up this dump. With linoleum floors, cracked walls, and one bathroom for the four of us, I would be embarrassed if Beckett ever saw where we lived. But I was grateful to have a roof over our heads.

I wondered what Beckett’s home was like. I had been on the base once with my uncle, who had been a maintenance man there before he had been fired. I remembered thinking that the officers’ homes seemed so grand. I bet the kitchen had new appliances. I couldn’t wait to cook in it, and to take Sky to the base park. Was this really happening to me? Why was I afraid that tomorrow he would call and let me know he had found someone else?