Read Online The Year the Swallows Came Early by Kathryn Fitzmaurice - Free Book Online Page A

Mama.” I held the cup in my hands and the lime scent rose up in little puffs, stinging my eyes from the hot air-and-tears mixture.
    Mama fluffed the pillows until they were big with air, and we leaned against them.
    After a long time of blowing on the tea to cool it, she said, “Groovy, I did what I had to. When I found out he didn’t have a way to put that money back in the bank, I wanted him to pay for what he’d done. So I called a lawyer. It took some time, but then your father was on his way to the city jail. I’m sure he won’t be able to post the bail. And if that’s the case, the judge will have to keep him there until his hearing because he might try to leave again.” She looked me straight in the eyes then to make sure I was listening. Her gaze caused my tears to start again, and I looked down at the blankets.
    â€œYou see, baby”—she kissed the top of myhead—“I thought he should have to live with the consequences of his actions. And when he goes before the judge, the judge will tell him how to make it right, and give him his sentence. He may have to stay in jail several weeks.”
    I nodded but didn’t say anything. I was afraid that if I tried to answer, or even looked up, I would start to cry hard. So I stared at her light-blue blanket, memorizing the crisscross stitching and forcing my brain to follow the over-under pattern so I couldn’t think about Daddy anymore.
    â€œI’m sorry about all of this, baby,” Mama said after a while. She waited a long time between her words, giving me a chance to talk if I wanted. But I didn’t. She pushed my hair from my face and tucked it behind my ears.
    I sat still and calm, letting her fingers pull me into a peaceful feeling with the soft strokes while the space between her words and me got bigger.
    â€œYou should try to sleep now,” she said finally, and took my teacup, setting it on the table next to her bed.
    I slid down into the blankets. I let them cover my head, blocking out the lamplight, the air from the ceiling fan, the picture of Daddy in my head getting into that police car and how Officer Miguel stopping him had not been a mistake after all.
    Mama lay gently beside me. She adjusted her feet. One outside of the covers and one inside, the way she always slept.
    And as we fell asleep together, late that night in Mama’s bed, I carefully and ever so slowly stretched my feet across the sheets to touch Mama’s inside foot. I wanted to feel the anger she had inside her toward Daddy. I hoped it would travel through her leg and into mine, all the way up to my heart. That way, I wouldn’t have to feel the hurt from what my daddy had done.

COFFEE CON LECHE
    S unday morning I waited in bed while Mama got dressed. I pretended to be asleep.
    â€œI’ve got a training class at the salon this morning. Texturizing hair,” she said. “But I’ll be home before lunch. You try to rest this morning.” She kissed the top of my head, and a lone strand of my hair stuck to her lip gloss, lifting up as she pulled away.
    â€œI know you’re awake. Did you hear me? I want you to rest some.” She pushed hair from my face. “I called Luis. I asked him to order a case of the large strawberries. In case you decideyou want to start making your chocolate-covered strawberries.”
    I didn’t feel like answering. I didn’t feel like dipping strawberries in chocolate sauce. I held my breath, waiting for her to leave.
    But I heard her open the newspaper instead. “Well,” Mama said finally. “There’s nothing in here that will be of assistance today. I’m surprised. Usually this author is more accurate with her horoscopes. I’m gonna have to call the newspaper and complain. There’s people trying to plan their lives around here.
    â€œGood-bye, baby,” she told me.
    The smell of burned toast drifted from the kitchen. Even with me