I’m a dishrag. We eat breakfast (well, she does). We try to study (well, she does). I can’t concentrate at all. Too tired to focus, too wired to sleep. She keeps asking if I’m OK — if I’m still thinking about the “incident.” That’s what she calls it. I can’t bear to talk about it. I change the subject and ask about Tyler. Her face tightens. She’s still mad at him, for many reasons. I hear all of them. Soon Dawn comes over. She brings me a big white floppy hat, some homemade pie, and photos of Gracie. I feel like someone recovering from some illness in a hospital. Of course she needs to hear everything. This time it’s not so easy to change topics. She’s sympathetic. I’m just pathetic. I try to be a good friend. I try to let her cheer me up. But I feel nothing. Around noon, Reg picks up Maggie. Takes Dawn too. Alone again. Back to the books. 7:30 P.M. The mice are attacking, Nbook. At least that’s what it sounds like. While Mami and Papi are at a church meeting, Isabel’s trying to do a highs-speed cassette dub — the best hits of Tito Puente, Celiz Cruz, all the good old stuff that the relatives like.
