The pain in Zoey’s stomach returned. Only this time, she knew, it wasn’t a period cramp.
2
Did you buy the whole store?” Dad demanded back at Poppy’s house.
He sounded mad as he untangled Zoey from the seven heavy bags she’d threaded her arms through. José’s shoulders tensed, and he glared at Dad as he put his own bags down on Poppy’s old brown couch.
“The only things we bought that weren’t on my college list were chocolate and pads.” José crossed his arms over his chest.
“But you already have elbow and knee pads for your skateboard. We don’t have money to throw away on extras. You’re going to have to return those.”
José rolled his eyes. “We bought menstrual pads, Dad. Zo got her first period.”
“José! You don’t have to go around telling everyone I got my first period!” Zoey protested.
She glanced at Dad, who looked as uncomfortable as Zoey felt. “I thought you got your, you know, two years ago,” he said.
“Um, no. I didn’t,” Zoey said quietly.
“Oh, uh, okay.…” Dad trailed off like he was trying to think of what else to say.
Silence swallowed Poppy’s living room. Zoey wished she could step backward and disappear into the portrait of her six-year-old self, laughing down at them from its perch above Poppy’s television. That girl, missing two front teeth, didn’t need to deal with La Tia Rojita and all the awkward conversations she brought with her. Dad cleared his throat at last and raised his hands questioningly. “Congrats, I guess. On Auntie Red arriving for a visit. Wasn’t that what your mom always called her?”
“Her?” José rolled his eyes. “Menstruation isn’t a person. It’s a biological process—”
“Thanks, Dad!” Zoey quickly cut in, massaging her wrists where the plastic bag handles had dug in and left marks. She glanced wildly around the empty living room, desperate to find a change of subject. The last thing she wanted was to listen to her father and brother bicker about her period. Talk about awkward. Her eyes landed on a black-and-white photo of Poppy as a teenager, leaning against a humongous antique-looking car, from when he stilled lived in Cuba.
“Is Poppy home?” she asked.
“No, he went to work at the bowling alley,” Dad said, also sounding relieved to be moving on.
He turned back to José, and Zoey noticed how Dad stood up straighter to emphasize the inch and a half he had over him. Oh no. Dad always did that whenever he was about to lay into José.
“José, I want a straight answer. Where did you get the money to buy all this stuff? I hope you didn’t hit up your grandfather for cash.”
José’s nostrils flared and his mouth twitched, just as Zoey knew they would. She’d seen Poppy slip her brother a few twenties over breakfast earlier that morning while Dad went to the supermarket. But José hadn’t asked for the money. Poppy had just given it to him.
“José used the money he saved up working after school,” Zoey interjected before José could answer. She made eye contact with her brother, and silently begged him to keep his mouth shut.
“Oh,” Dad said, relaxing slightly as his eyes roved over the bags once more. “This is a lot though. How’d you afford everything?”
“There were, like, tons of sales. All the school stuff was fifty percent off.” Zoey beamed like they’d just won first place in a contest for Best Bargain Shoppers in the Universe. José said nothing and even managed not to roll his eyes again.
“Okay, well, that’s great then,” Dad said, exhaling and running his fingers through his dark, curly hair. He glanced at the front door, then leaned in to whisper as if he was afraid Poppy might be able to hear him all the way from his bowling alley eight blocks away on the boardwalk.
“Look guys, don’t repeat this, but your grandfather’s got some money problems, and we don’t want to impose more than we already are by staying here. Do you understand?”
“Yup.” José grabbed a couple of bags and huffed up the stairs to his room.
Dad gawked after him. “What’s his problem?”
Zoey shrugged at Dad. “I have cramps. I need to find my pads,” she said, hoping more talk about her period would finally make Dad end this conversation.
It worked.
“Ah, feel better, kiddo. I’ve got a couple of business meetings this afternoon. You’ll be okay without me, right?” Dad asked, already beginning to walk away.
“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” she said, unearthing her pads and a handful of mini chocolate bars. “Just going to run upstairs to change and then head out to keep Poppy company at the bowling alley.”
Dad nodded before disappearing into the nook beside the stairs that Poppy used as a makeshift home office.
Still feeling stressed from her ordeal at the store and all the tension in their small house, Zoey eagerly retreated to the privacy of Mami’s old room. She rummaged through the shirts and shorts she’d unpacked into her mother’s childhood dresser. How Zoey wished her grandparents had kept Mami’s old clothes for her! Leggings and leg warmers in every color of the rainbow. Cropped jackets. Oversized, off-the-shoulder metallic tops. Parachute pants. Black, lacy, fingerless gloves. Poufy miniskirts. Earrings that could double as bangle bracelets. The old Polaroids still taped to the dresser’s mirror attested that seventh-grade Jasmeen had, indeed, been fabulous.
Finally selecting her comfiest soccer jersey and drawstring shorts, Zoey put them on and flopped back onto the bed, letting out a sigh of relief. Dealing with Dad and José reminded Zoey more and more of living with a bad cough. The negative energy between them was like a persistent tickle at the back of her throat that could develop into a full-on attack at any time. Zoey had learned to stave off big fights between her father and brother the same way someone might eat honey or avoid talking too much to hold a cough at bay. Sweetly distract José with a tough question. Ask Dad about how work was going. Be as quiet and independent as possible, so as not to bother either of them. But it was an imperfect science and Zoey often found it exhausting to live as if she were walking on eggshells around both of them. Sometimes she just longed for peace and harmony at home that didn’t require her to strategically manage her family’s moods.
She scrolled through her phone for a while, looking up suggested remedies for cramps. She decided she would try warm compresses later. But for now, Advil sounded like a good idea. José kept the medicine in his room. When she came to the door, he stopped reading the book he’d taken up and got it for her. Afterward, she went back and took her time hand-washing the bloodstains out of her clothes in the guest bathroom. The curtain bar suspended atop the bathtub looked like it’d been stuck to the white-tiled walls with chewing gum, but it held when she hung her clothes on it to dry. Satisfied, Zoey headed out of the house.
* * *
Sunshine warmed Zoey’s face as she walked the few blocks from Poppy’s house to the boardwalk. The pressure in both her belly and her shoulders eased, and she began to feel a little proud. As scary as it had seemed, she’d survived getting her first period. She was officially a woman, like Mami and the girls at school. It made her feel closer to Mami even, knowing that they had shared the same experience. But Zoey’s thoughts quickly returned to the men in her family. She’d been able to keep Dad and José from arguing back at the house, but how much longer before they went at it again? She understood why José often got upset with Dad. Sometimes she wished they could pick one place and stay there, too. But Dad also did the best he could, especially without Mami there anymore to help. He needed his kids to support his dreams so that, in turn, he’d feel well enough to take care of them. Why doesn’t José get it? she wondered glumly.