Four
Let Me Get What I Want

Eloisa closed the budget planner with a satisfying thump and pushed it away.

Numbers, she reflected, were definitely less confusing than people. She had spent a lot of time on the phone with Aubrey and Starr, picking apart Friday night's events. Both of them assured her that Nacho's behavior was normal for a one-night stand. Eloisa wasn't entirely convinced that was the case. They weren't there so they couldn't understand how good it had started and how tense it had been in those last few minutes.

Besides, she had bigger problems to deal with.

The finances were squared away for another month. Just barely, but they would be okay. Even with the unexpected hospital bill, she managed to make it work with enough left over to cover about three of the ten thousand (most of it she had taken on herself, completely draining savings) without raising suspicion. She had taken the five from Daniel's account, but even that still left her two thousand short.

"¿Todo listo?" Graciela asked, stroking her hair as she passed. She leaned into it, closing her eyes against the familiar motion.

"Sí," she replied.

"Gracias, mija."

"No problema. But, Mamá," she turned in the chair to look up at her. Not for the first time taken aback by how much older her mom seemed these days. "You have to give me Tita's bills as soon as they come in, okay? We can't afford to default."

Graciela's shoulders slumped. "I know. I was hoping that the insurance company had made a mistake."

She wanted to tell her that unless they contested it, which would cost them more than it was worth, it was doubtful that would ever be the case. Instead, she said, "Dinner smells great."

"You're a good girl, Eloisa." There was a twinge of guilt as her mom pressed a kiss against the top of her head. "It's almost ready. Go get your brother."

She wrinkled her nose. "Is his… friend eating with us too?"

This was her Sunday ritual. She would come over, spend the day helping her mom around the house, sit down to the books, and then have dinner with her family. This Sunday, Hazel was with her dad, and Angela was using the downtime to cram in an extra study session on campus, which Daniel had used to his advantage.

"Se bueno," she cautioned. "Daniel está en la edad del pavo. Él está pasando por un momento difícil en este momento."

"Aren't we all?" she murmured but did not argue as she headed in the direction of her brother's room.

From inside, his stereo blared angry metal music over the faint sound of video games. She pounded on the door. "Hey, stupid, dinner's ready."

There was no immediate response. Then she heard shuffling, and a low "ow" came from under the door.

"Put it out," a voice, her brother's, whispered.

Suspicious, she pushed open the door. The smell of marijuana hit her immediately. Two guilty faces peered at her from by the window.

"S'up, Lou?" Jesse Pinkman greeted, scratching the back of his head.

Jesse had always run adjacent to Daniel and his friends, usually only popping up if there was a group thing. She didn't like that they were hanging out exclusively these days. Her brother didn't need any more bad influences.

Daniel, who had been hanging half-out of the window, pushed himself back inside. "Try knocking next time. Jesus. It's called invasion of privacy."

Sympathy. She needed to be sympathetic. It was hard, though, when yelling at him would have been easier.

"What the hell are you doing in here? Are you trying to give Mom a heart attack?"

"You smoke cigarettes," he retorted, chin jutting out. "It's a little pot. Don't be such a bitch about it."

Normally, she would have tried to be cool, especially in front of his friend. But before she had time to think about it, she crossed the room and pinched the back of his arm. He yelped, rubbing it frantically.

"Consejos vendo y para mí no tengo," she chastised, repeating one of Graciela's favorite sayings. "Besides, cigarettes aren't illegal. Where's the rest of it?"

Daniel's face scrunched in confusion. "The rest of what?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "The rest of your brain, idiot. Where's the rest of the pot?"

"It's not mine!" he squeaked.

"I don't give a shit. Hand it over."

Jesse, eager to not be ratted on, handed over a small bag with a single pre-rolled joint sitting in the bottom.

"Change your clothes, go put in some eye drops, and act normal. They're in the bathroom," she instructed Jesse. "Across the hall."

He took off like a shot leaving Daniel and Eloisa alone.

"What the hell has gotten into you, Daniel? Do you do this when Hazel is home?"

"It's a little weed," he repeated slowly like she was stupid. "And I never smoke when Hazel or Ang are home. You think I want Ang narcing to Mom?"

"You're lucky I don't narc to Mom. Is this what you've been doing instead of looking for a summer job?"

"Jesse doesn't have a summer job."

Because Jesse was a rich kid with parents who were probably helping him out. She threw her hands up. This was Daniel all over. He loved throwing other people's luxuries in their faces. Eloisa understood why he was so angry, they'd been in a similar position not that long ago. It wasn't her fault, or his, that they were struggling, but she wished he would grow up about it.

"I don't give a shit if Jesse doesn't have a summer job. You think college is just going to hand you books for free or what?"

"That's what my college money is for."

She tried to ignore the gnawing feeling in her gut and put her hands on her hips.

"You know what that's going to cover? You pay everything out of pocket, maybe two or three semesters, if you're lucky. And, in case you didn't know, money isn't exactly growing on trees in our backyard right now."

"God, get off my case! Just because Dad isn't here doesn't mean you have to act like him. And get the hell out of my room." He pushed past her and went into the bathroom slamming the door behind him.

She stormed out after him, stopping just short of the kitchen. If her mom saw her this heated, she would ask questions and, though she was righteously pissed at Daniel, she didn't want him to get in trouble with Graciela. She clenched her fists at her sides and imagined herself running. One foot, then the next, breathing a steady one, one, two count.

Dinner went off without much of a hitch except for the awkward silence sitting between Daniel and Eloisa.

"Mrs. S, these peppers are THE BOMB!" exclaimed Jesse between mouthfuls. "And I ain't even, like, a vegetarian."

At least now she knew why her mom let him stay.

Graciela beamed. She loved a compliment. "Thank you, sweetheart. Rajas poblanos. It's my mother's recipe."

"Got a little brown on your nose, dude," Daniel said, elbowing his friend and voicing Eloisa's thoughts. "Just 'cause you're used to eating white people food like… meatloaf."

"Yo, aren't you like… half white?" he whispered, looking between Graciela and Eloisa like he might get in trouble for saying it out loud.

"Yeah, but I missed out on all the gross shit like liking meatloaf and mayonnaise."

Eloisa snorted into her plate. She couldn't help it. The whole conversation was so absurd.

"Daniel, watch your mouth," Graciela scolded.

His ears reddened. "Sorry, Ma."

"Don't call me 'ma'. It makes me feel old."

"You don't look a day over thirty, Mrs. S," said Jesse.

Daniel and Eloisa exchanged a flat look across the table, but he gave her a small smile as his eyes rolled toward the ceiling.

"Are you okay, mija?" Graciela asked as they stood in the doorway after dinner. "You seem tired."

The heat from earlier in the day had died down leaving a warm, clear June evening in its wake. She smiled but felt the words in her bones. She was exhausted.

"A little tired," she admitted. "But I'm alright. I promise."

Graciela gripped her daughter tightly and drew her in close, pressing a Tupperware container full of leftovers in her hands.

"I don't know what we would do without you."

Eloisa's throat became tight, her eyes stinging. Her phone vibrated in her back pocket as she gave her mom a tight squeeze. She kissed her cheek. "I'll see you on Tuesday when I drop off Hazel, yeah?"

As soon as she was in her car, the front door of the house shut, she pulled it out to check it.

From Nate: be there n 30

She checked the time on her phone. It was only 7:15. Of course he would show up early. She made it home with ten minutes to spare and ducked inside fast enough to stow the leftovers and swap the joint in her pocket for the yellow envelope full of money in her bedside drawer. When he pulled up, she was sitting on the porch with her face buried in a Lisa Kleypas novel as she smoked a cigarette.

Though she could see him, he honked the horn.

"You got it?" he asked as she climbed into the passenger seat.

"Yes."

She hated lying, even to Nate, but the less he knew, the better for him. He talked the whole way leaving her to her thoughts so long as she punctuated the conversation with an occasional yeah or wow.

Eventually, they pulled off at a stretch of land not quite outside of the city limits. It might as well have been the middle of nowhere. Albuquerque glittered distantly behind them. Ahead there was darkness, shrubs, and dirt.

The temperature dropped, making Eloisa shiver a little as she got out. Nate leaned back against the grill of his truck, whistling a cheery tune that set her teeth on edge. She shoved her hands in her jacket pockets and sighed in relief when they touched the pack of cigarettes. She shook one out and was about to put it in her mouth when he snatched it away from her.

"Really?" He held it out of her reach when she moved for it. "This could be evidence, El."

"Really?" she mimicked, sweeping her hand over the nothingness of the desert.

"Yeah." He handed it back to her. "And, anyway, you shouldn't smoke."

"You are unbelievable, you know that?" she shot back but put it away.

After a maddening five minutes, a van pulled in. The headlights were momentarily blinding as it parked just a few feet across from them and the engine cut.

She knew it well. It was what had gotten her swept up in this mess in the first place. She had only laid eyes on it once, just before her dad had been arrested. She was there to take him to dinner and saw it tearing out of the driveway as she pulled up. Her dad, red-faced and visibly shaken, watched it go from the front porch where he'd been standing. When she tried to ask him about it, he ignored the question.

After his arrest, her mom had mentioned seeing it a couple of times before they moved, at different times during the day and never for very long. And then again, more recently. It was enough to send Eloisa in to take the information to the detectives, insisting that it was somehow tied to her dad's case. They assured her that they would look into it, but she knew when she was being humored. Nate caught her on her way out of the station to tell her, and warn her that she needed to let it go.

She wished she had listened.

Beside her, Nate pushed himself up and puffed his chest out importantly.

"Jesus, Nate, come on," she mumbled as she bit the side of her thumbnail.

As the engine died and the lights dimmed, she caught the glare directed at her.

"Do not be cute with these guys," he warned.

It was unnecessary. She didn't plan on saying anything more than she had to. The envelope sat heavily in her back pocket. She hoped that it, along with an explanation and a promise that she could get more, would be enough.

"Stay here for a sec."

She nodded and he jogged up to where three men were getting out of the van.

"Hey, Nacho," he greeted.

She froze. It was a coincidence. Surely, there was more than one person in Albuquerque with that nickname. Then the driver emerged, and as he did, Eloisa's stomach bottomed out.

Nacho's dark eyes took in the scene in front of him, regarding Nate for a brief second before they landed on her.

"Shit," she whispered.