“I thought you were going to throw those clothes away,” Marla said. They didn’t have many clothes, but Sammy did have some jeans that fit better. And why did he need to spike his hair?
“I’ve got to wear something.” Sammy glared at her. “I can’t go around naked.”
Marla felt that sometimes she didn’t recognize her son. “You have those jeans I got for you to wear when you start school here—”
“They don’t fit.” Sammy shrugged. “I’m saving them for when we paint the house.”
Marla forced herself to relax. She supposed that clothes were the least of her worries, although people did form opinions about young people because of the way they were dressed. “I just want to be proud of you.”
Sammy grunted. “What’s in the bag?”
Marla looked down. Becky was sitting on the floor and had already opened the white bag Les had left with them. She hadn’t taken anything out, although she had a grin on her face.
There were so few smiling moments for Becky these days that Marla didn’t want to spoil this one by questioning Sammy right now. The sheriff would be in town for another half hour. They had time to eat a bite.
“The woman at the café sent us over doughnuts for breakfast.” Marla said. “Wasn’t that nice of her?”
Becky nodded and beamed up at her. “Yes, Mommy.”
Sammy grunted.
Marla didn’t react to Sammy. Gratitude wasn’t the big problem of the day, either. “Let’s go sit at the table when we eat them. We don’t want to get everything sticky.”
Sammy had already walked over and looked in the sack Becky held. For the first time this morning he reminded Marla of the little boy he had been. “Hey, there’s jelly doughnuts. Cool. I can see the raspberry filling coming out of one of them.”
“Let’s take them to the table,” Marla repeated for Becky’s ears.
“I am, Mommy,” Becky said as she stood up and then reached down and grabbed the bag.
Marla watched her children walk into the kitchen together. Becky was holding the bag of doughnuts, but Marla could see that Sammy was guarding them as he walked with his sister. What was she to do? Marla asked herself as she leaned back against the door. Sammy’s heart was good. Look how careful he was to help Becky without taking the sack from her. An aggressive child would just grab the bag. But not Sammy. He had always had a warm place in his heart for his little sister.
She was surprised it hadn’t all clicked together for her earlier when she was standing there talking to the deputy sheriff. Becky might not have written that note asking for a Suzy bake set, but Sammy had. He knew what Becky wanted for Christmas. Becky had been talking about that bake set for weeks. Marla had even wondered if she might be able to squeeze the money out of her budget for one. She hadn’t been sure if she could do it, so she hadn’t said anything to either of the children. She’d just let her suggestion of handmade gifts stand.
Maybe that had been a mistake. Marla realized that if she had told Sammy she was buying a few presents after all, maybe he wouldn’t have taken that shepherd. Somewhere in all of this, she was partially at fault.
She couldn’t help but think that Jorge would have known what to do for Sammy. Maybe Sammy felt free to misbehave because he knew she wasn’t as sure of herself as Jorge had been in disciplining him. She wasn’t used to flying solo as a parent and she wasn’t sure she could do a good job of it. Sometimes a growing boy needed a father.
Marla listened to the voices of her children in the dining room for a minute, then started forward to join them. She was going to have to do her best to give Sammy what a father would.
Marla was glad the card table and folding chairs had fit in the luggage carrier on top of the car when she moved up here. Her children were sitting at the table now. It might not be as sturdy as the table she would eventually buy for them, but it was important for them to have a place to sit down and eat together. For all of Sammy’s sullen ways, he’d never protested eating dinner with the family.
Sammy had put white paper plates and plastic cups on the table. He’d even brought out the gallon of milk. Marla was pleased that they had waited for her.
Marla let everyone finish their doughnuts before she cleared her throat.
“Becky, will you go to your room and get dressed, please?”
Becky didn’t always end up with a matching outfit, but she liked to dress herself and Marla encouraged her to be independent.
After Becky left, Marla turned to Sammy. “Is there something you need to tell me?”
“Nah,” Sammy muttered, his face flushing.
Marla counted to three. “Did you take a shepherd from the church’s Nativity scene?”
Sammy’s face got redder. “It’s just a stupid shepherd. They don’t even exist anymore. At least, not anywhere except in Mexico. I mean, who needs them? We’re through with that life. We’re turning white.”
Marla kept her voice even. “Just because we moved up here, it doesn’t mean that we’re not still part Hispanic.”
Sammy grunted. “I haven’t seen any amigos around.”
No one would know Sammy was Hispanic by looking at him. She knew he identified himself with his old amigos, but maybe it was time for them all to step away from their background a little bit.
“You’ll meet some new friends when you go to school.”
“Yeah, right.”
“We’re not ashamed of being Hispanic.” Marla tried again. “We’re just getting to know people slow and easy. We don’t need to be any particular ethnic group for a while.”
Sammy grunted.
Marla decided she couldn’t talk about their heritage all morning.
“You know it’s wrong to take things that don’t belong to you. We’ll go over to the café and talk to the deputy who was here asking about the shepherd. Then you’ll give the shepherd back and we’ll talk about what your punishment will be.”
Marla was hoping that if Sammy confessed to what he had done and returned the shepherd, no charges would be filed. She didn’t know how much the Nativity figure was worth, but she doubted it had a high enough value to make this anything but a misdemeanor. Once they figured that out, she’d talk more with Sammy about his other feelings.
“I could give up Christmas,” Sammy offered. “Not that it’s going to be anything, anyway.”
“I’m hoping to make sweet pork tamales,” Marla said.
Sammy looked up. “With the green chilies?”
Marla nodded. “If I can find a nice pork roast to use in the filling.”
“Well, maybe I could give up Christmas after the tamales are all gone.”
Marla smiled. “We’ll talk.”
Marla wondered how she could make Sammy feel more at home in Dry Creek. She knew he missed his friends. Even though those friends were not good for him, he was still entitled to miss them. A few days ago he’d gotten a letter from a boy back in Los Angeles. Sammy had protested, but eventually he’d agreed to let her read the note about some baseball, his lucky baseball, that he’d left behind and how the boy was going to get it to him soon.
At least Sammy had one friend there who didn’t sound like a gang member. She hoped baseball wasn’t gang code for something else. She couldn’t forbid Sammy to have contact with everybody, though. A boy needed some friends, and the note sounded fine. Maybe she had been wrong to postpone school for him by the few weeks that she had. Of course, it was too late to change that now. The classes would be on Christmas