Lilli
It starts out like any other Sunday. Cassandra is off today, meaning I’m required to be at the dining room table eating a bowl of Raisin Bran by eight o’clock. No amount of protesting can ever get Cassandra to leave me be, since according to her, if we get up early enough on her days off, we can get all required responsibilities out of the way much faster, allowing us to be free for the afternoon. I’d be fine with this if she didn’t insist on me always having to be up by eight whenever she’s off work.
However, I don’t mind so much today because I’ve been up since seven, going through the Scrollers app on my phone while still lying around in my room.
Yesterday, the two of us discovered that Cassandra’s blog was among the top ten trending new blogs of the day. I got ecstatic and insisted we do something to celebrate her success. Cassandra, acting as calm as usual, said it would probably be best to save our celebration for Sunday, and to just spend the night watching a movie if I wanted to. As a result, our evening was spent watching Superbad on Netflix, while I still took some time to look through Scrollers and see what the big deal about that website was.
For the most part, it seems okay. Some blogs are entertaining and insightful, including one where someone tells several funny childhood stories about situations which they couldn’t understand back then but that they now think are hilarious. Others are just annoying, like one where the writer describes past romantic relationships in the most condescending way possible. Overall, it’s not all that different from other blogging sites, and it looks like a good place for Cassandra to get started on putting her work out there.
I start looking through the other top trending new blog, which is about a college student’s experiences studying abroad in Italy, when we hear the door knocking.
Cassandra gets a bit tense when she hears this. “Who could possibly want to see us this early?” she wonders.
“It’s probably just Katrina. You know how she likes dropping by here sometimes,” I say as I get up to respond to whoever it is.
Katrina is a Polish woman who lives a couple doors down from us. She moved in here only months before Mom left us, and we became close to her after she made a commitment to checking in on us every couple of days. She still comes over sometimes, but because she’s got three kids and a part time job, she can’t stop by as often as she’d like to. Because of this, it’s not unreasonable to assume she’d come see us on a Sunday morning.
But when I answer the door, I notice it’s not Katrina. Instead, it is someone with a tendency to surprise us a little too much, and that is our Tia Dolores.
“Hello there, girls!” she says, wrapping her plump arms around me. “How are you doing, Lilli? It feels so long since the last time I’ve visited you girls.”
“Hi, Tia Dolores. It’s always great having you here,” I respond.
Tia Dolores is four years older than Mom and has been used to taking charge in family matters ever since they were little girls in Guatemala, where she helped their father run a candy shop after their mother died when she was seven years old, and then again when the girls moved to the United States as teenagers in the late 80s to live with an aunt after their father was diagnosed with lung cancer, passing away several years later. Because of this, she was always stepping in when she thought Mom wasn’t doing enough for us, meaning she was the first person to help us after Mom left. In fact, having gotten a message from Cassandra during our first night alone, she showed up at our place the next morning, where she heard everything that happened and promised to be there for us whenever we needed her. She kept her word too, coming over to see us at least three times a month, assisting Cassandra with getting temporary custody of me, and making sure we knew as much about running the household as possible.
She tried getting in touch with Mom, but on the many occasions she tried calling her, she only got a response from her once, just a month after Mom had left us. Mom told her that she’d left because she was having a hard time at home, feeling depressed and frustrated over how she wasn’t getting enough help from us. She’d bought a plane ticket to Florida, where she was currently staying with a friend, and by fall, she was hoping to be able to come back to Guatemala, and maybe even take one of us with her if we were willing to.
Tia Dolores had obviously gotten mad at her, telling her she was being a bad mother and making exactly the sorts of mistakes she’d worried she’d make when they first moved to the United States as teenagers. She couldn’t just take off and leave whenever she wanted to. She had two kids herself, so she couldn’t just assume that she had time to be a mother for us when she didn’t want to do the work herself. We weren’t causing problems for her because we wanted to, but rather because we needed extra help sometimes, and if she really wanted to feel less depressed, maybe she should stop feeling sorry for herself and step up to help us more often.
Mom said nothing in response, hanging up shortly after Tia Dolores said this. She tried getting in touch with her a few more times, with no success. By summer, she simply gave up on trying to get her to come back, and we stopped caring about. After all, we managed to accomplish months in the time she’d left, and we were getting used to living on our own. Why worry about extra care from another person when you no longer need it so much, especially when it concerns someone who probably doesn’t care about you anymore?
“So, where is Cassandra?” Tia Dolores asks. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to see me.”
“She’s still finishing breakfast. You know how it is with her. All the important stuff has to be taken care of before she can have any fun.”
“Well, she’s picked up more from me than she probably realizes,” she says before heading inside so she can speak with Cassandra herself. Upon finding her picking up our finished cereal bowls, Tia Dolores permits her to go ahead with it before offering her greetings. Since Cassandra isn’t as sensitive to touch or hugs as some other autistic people are, she politely accepts Tia Dolores’ embrace, although she still says, “We’re doing well, Tia Dolores, but I would appreciate it if you called us before you decided to visit us, as usual. That way, I could plan things out to make room for whatever you want to do.”
Tia Dolores usually lets us know ahead of time when she’s coming to visit us, knowing that Cassandra usually prefers it when she does this. She probably thought we would appreciate a surprise visit by now, but noticing Cassandra’s reaction, she must now think she should have gone about it the usual way.
And of course, being used to Cassandra’s habits, Tia Dolores laughs. “Most relatives don’t have to make such formal arrangements, but if that makes you more comfortable, I’ll see if I can take the time to do that for my next visit.”
“Thanks for understanding,” Cassandra replies. “What did you want to do today?”
“As you probably already know, I’d love for us to go to morning Mass as soon as possible. After that, I was thinking we could go to the mall or get lunch. I have to be home by six, so the sooner we can get started, the better.”
“In that case, it’s probably a good thing we’re both up so early. We’ll be ready to go whenever you feel like it,” Cassandra says.
Tia Dolores smiles before heading off to the living room to make a quick call. As soon as I’m sure she is out of sight, I roll my eyes at Cassandra.
Cassandra frowns in response. “What is it, Lilli?” she asks.
“Can’t you just be happy that our aunt’s visiting us?” I demand. “If even she had to stick to useless arrangements so you don’t get neurotic, how can you expect anyone to willingly spend time with you?”
“Lilli, it’s usually common to make arrangements before you visit someone. Friends do it, business partners do it, and even family members do it. There’s nothing wrong with having Tia Dolores do the same.”
“Well, I think surprise visits are nice. If you were less uptight about schedules, I’m sure you’d understand.”
“It’s not just because of me being uptight. We both benefit from knowing about these things in advance. You could get up earlier, and I can prepare a better breakfast, making sure we have something for Tia Dolores as well…”
“Whatever. You could probably go on about this all day. If you’re in any doubt about what you should say when we have company, just shut up and let me do the talking.”
And that’s when Tia Dolores comes in, looking concerned over how she’s heard me talking. “Is everything all right, girls?”
“Why, yes, Tia Dolores. Everything’s fine. I was just trying to discuss something important with Cassandra,” I say, giving Cassandra a look to make it clear I don’t want her saying anything that contradicts my point. She notices, and luckily enough, she simply nods and says nothing.
If Tia Dolores has any doubts about my version of events, she says nothing about it. “All right, girls. Would you mind if we started heading off in a few minutes? The next Spanish Mass is at nine o’ clock, so if we go now, we will be free for the rest of the morning. How does that sound?”
“That’s fine, but we’re not completely ready yet,” Cassandra says.
“It shouldn’t take too long to get ready. Both of you are dressed, and your hair may be a bit rumpled, but that could be fixed rather quickly if you let me help you,” Tia Dolores says.
“You don’t have to do that. I could just make a quick ponytail if you think that will save us time.”
“Are you sure about that, dear?”
Cassandra’s never been great at doing her hair, which is why she rarely has it longer than shoulder length. It’s reached her limit now, but because of her money saving habits, she doesn’t want to get a haircut for another month. And so far, although she does her best to look presentable, her hair still looks a little sloppy sometimes.
“Let me at least try, and if I have any trouble, you can help me,” she responds.
“All right. Go ahead and see if you can do it.”
When Cassandra has gone into her room, I shrug. “It’s just another Sunday morning with Cassandra.”
“At least so far, it looks like a good day for her,” Tia Dolores says.
At Mass, we sit in a nearly empty pew where only an old woman with a pearl rosary can be found sitting. The service is simple, with the elderly priest giving out a gentle sermon on the values of the Beatitudes in our busy lives, followed by all the usual rites you can expect to see in a Catholic Mass. When Tia Dolores and Cassandra get up to receive the Eucharist, they’re just as careful as they were in choosing our seating, going through the line without looking out for anyone we know.
Our reasons for being so careful are that back when Mom left us, this had been one of the first places Tia Dolores had brought us when she finally came to check on us, insisting that coming here together would give us all some peace of mind over that happened.
While the service itself had been okay, we were afterwards approached by Paloma Alvarez, who was not only a volunteer usher at the church, but also one of Mom’s coworkers. As soon as she saw us, she hurled us with questions, demanding to know why our mother hadn’t shown up in work for four days straight and if there was a reason why were with our aunt instead of her today. Not being able to handle the pressure, Cassandra admitted she’d gone away, although she didn’t bring up how she didn’t intend on coming back. Paloma made the error of responding back by saying, “Pero mi hija, your mami tells me you’re too sick to be left on your own. How could she do something so thoughtless?”
Telling any disabled person they’re sick is never flattering, and as soon as she heard that, Cassandra walked away without saying another word. I’d gotten angry, shouting out things which aren’t appropriate for church, while Tia Dolores had to settle things for the both of us, explaining that she was going to be helping us out, but Cassandra’s condition was mild enough for her to exhibit as much independence as anyone else her own age.
And since then, we’ve never had an easy time going to Mass. Cassandra attempts going at least twice a month, and always to one of the earlier masses to avoid Paloma and her friends. I go even less often, having once missed Mass for three months straight, and luckily enough Cassandra never forces me to come with her, probably understanding my feelings about it. As she once put it, if those within the church give you a hard time, it always impacts your spiritual side, making you feel as if it’s God who’s shaking your finger at you, spreading gossip and making you miserable, even if it’s far from the truth. That probably sums up my faith in general, to be honest.
Once we leave, this sense of relief washes over me, and I’m happily willing to go along with any of Tia Dolores’ plans. So, when she says, “How would you girls feel about going to the mall?”, I answer by saying, “Sure. In fact, there’s something I’ve been wanting to get there for a while.”
Knowing what I’m about to say, Cassandra says, “Come on, Lilli. Don’t bother Tia Dolores with your silly wishes.”
“Silly wishes? Now, what could be so silly about what your sister wants, Cassandra?’ Tia Dolores replies. Turning to me, she says, “Go ahead and tell me what you want, Lilli. You know I’m always willing to at least have a look at it.”
Encouraged, I say, “They’re having these discounts on dresses at JCPenney, and I wanted to see if I could buy my prom dress ahead of time.”
“Why, that sounds like a nice offer. Are you aware of the prices for these discounts?”
Cassandra looks startled. “Tia Dolores, are you serious about wanting to get one for her? Wouldn’t it be too much for you?”
“I want to look into it first, Cassandra. I haven’t decided on anything yet. Now, Lilli, what’s the exact discount?”
“Up to 50% off on all dresses. Some are as cheap as $30.00.”
“Seems fair enough. I’ll know for sure once we get there if it’s worth it.”
And with that said, we were at the mall within fifteen minutes. Since we enter through JCPenney, it doesn’t take long for us to find the dresses aisle on the second floor. All the dressing gowns are in their own section, with a large sign announcing the sale placed on top, giving off the fact that today is the final day of the sale.
“We certainly got lucky,” I say. “If we had come sometime next week, I wouldn’t have been able to buy a dress at all.”
“What are you talking about?” Cassandra asks. “You have three months left to buy a dress. Other stores will most likely hold sales of their own around April, so you’ll have plenty of time to get one.”
“I meant a dress with this sort of discount,” I say. “Seeing how you like planning stuff ahead of time, I thought you’d be more understanding.”
“Now, girls,” Tia Dolores says, not wanting to see us squabble, “How about we look through these dresses before getting into any disagreements? Lilli, go ahead and pick out at least two that you like so you can try them on in the fitting room.”
I immediately start shuffling through a neat row of evening gowns, admiring all the beautiful styles and brands before picking anything up. There’s a white dress with flowers embroidered through the edges of the skirt, and a blue gown with an oversized ribbon towards the top.
I also find a pink dress that looks a little too much like the one our cousin Jeanette wore for her Quinceanera, which I brush aside right away. Neither Cassandra nor I ever got the chance to have a Quinze of our own, resulting in me always avoiding anything that reminds me of our lost opportunity. Best to focus on having a good prom instead.
At the end, I settle with the blue gown and a black satin dress. The white dress doesn’t like something fit enough for a prom, and many of the others are nowhere close to my size, with many plus sizes and petites having been left over from the week-long sale. I feel lucky to have found two dresses at my size at all.
However, when I try on the blue gown, I start having problems right away. The zipper gets stuck once it reaches the middle of my back, and I must be careful with it as I attempt pushing it up. This strikes me as odd, since the dress is exactly my size, and I’m not exactly overweight; I happen to weigh seven pounds less than Cassandra, in fact. So, although I eventually get that zipper to go up, the dress still feels tighter than I hoped it would. And when I step out of the dressing room to show it off to Tia Dolores and Cassandra, the comments I get are less than flattering:
“It’s showing off your bum too much, Lilli,” Tia Dolores says.
“People might think you’re too fat if they were to see your stomach,” Cassandra, always the blunt critic, remarks. She may not love clothes as much as other women, but some fashion mishaps are just too obvious for even her to overlook.
“But I don’t get it,” I say. “It’s a size seven. Why does it make me look fat?”
“Sometimes even if something’s your exact size, it still comes off as too big for you. It happens to me all the time,” Cassandra says.
I can’t stand to hear anything else, so I turn back towards the dressing room and slam the door before I can hear anymore comments. Removing the second dress from the clothes hanger, I keep hoping this is the right one for me. If there were some version of the traveling pants for prom dresses that could fit on any girl regardless of her shape, I would buy it in a heartbeat. But for now, I’ve got to go with what I can get.
The good news is, I’m able to zip this one without any issues, and upon checking myself out in the mirror, I don’t show off curves in a manner that’s too embarrassing. The dress feels very stylish, giving off vintage vibes without looking too old fashioned. I nod and smile. I can already picture myself wearing this at prom, and the looks of amazement and envy that I’ll get from the other kids. I may not be popular, but if I can make a good impression just with my dress, nobody will be ignoring me for long.
Coming out of the dressing room, Tia Dolores is impressed right away.
“That dress looks stunning, Lilli! I’m sure all the kids at the prom will be jealous when they see how amazing you look in it.”
I smile. “Thanks a lot, Tia Dolores! Now, how does it look to you, Cassandra?”
But Cassandra’s attention seems to be elsewhere, since she’s staring at a group of teenage girls hovering close by, who appear to be observing me for some reason.
“Those girls over there keep saying your name, Lilli,” she says. “Do you know them?”
Glancing around for myself, I immediately realize who they are: Britney’s dance teammates, who aren’t very fond of me. They’re looking over dresses as they talk to each other. One of them, Ellie Perkins, whispers something to Carla Ramirez that makes her giggle, resulting in Lea Thomas making a comment that sounds a bit snarky.
“What is it, Lilli? Are these friends of yours?” Tia Dolores asks.
“I don’t think they are,” Cassandra says.
I say nothing. If I try speaking with them, they might make fun of me or do something else to humiliate me. As of now, they aren’t saying anything directly to me that I’m aware of. Because of this, I figure it’s best if I ignore them for now. If they start saying things to me, that’s when I can give them a piece of my mind. There’s no need to cause a scene for what might just be silly gossip.
But it doesn’t take long before I hear Carla saying, “Hey, Lilli! What’s up?”
Tia Dolores and Cassandra look at me nervously. I have my doubts as well, but Carla is one of the less nasty people in the dance team, so she shouldn’t be too hard to handle.
“Hey, Carla. It’s been a while since we’ve last seen each other,” I say.
“Are you here for early prom dress shopping as well?”
“Yeah. The earlier you can get a good dress, the better.”
She looks at my dress for a while. “Is that the dress you’re considering buying?”
“I think so.”
Carla nods approvingly. “That looks like a good choice. It goes well with your figure.”
“And it’s certainly better than that other dress you were trying on,” Ellie chimes in. “That thing made you look like…”
“Not now, Ellie,” Carla says with a scowl. “So, it’s good to see that you found a good dress. Can’t wait to see you wearing it at prom night.”
“It’ll be even better when we see the lucky guy that goes with you,” Lea says, sounding a bit sarcastic.
“Of course, it will, Lea. And I’m sure there are already a thousand guys giving you offers, am I right?”
“I’ll have you know that Peter Norris is already offering me the most amazing…”
“Anyway,” Carla interrupts, “We’re already seeing plenty of dresses that we like. Hopefully, we can get something that’s just as cool as your dress is.”
“Preferably better,” Ellie says.
“We’ll see about that. Now, I hope you and your sister have a good day.”
“Thanks. I hope you do too,” I say. I can’t really say the same thing about her friends though. They both give me weird looks as Carla starts looking through dresses again, but they don’t try saying anything to me again.
“Well, that was a bit awkward,” I tell Tia Dolores and Cassandra as we walk away from the dress section a while later.
“I have a bad feeling about those girls. It sounded as if they were hiding something as they were talking to you,” Tia Dolores says.
“Yeah. Even to me, they sounded suspicious,” Cassandra says.
“Maybe that’s true, but I just want to avoid trouble for now. I used to get into so many fights with girls like them, and it never ended well for me. If they’re not doing anything terrible, I’d rather ignore them,” I say.
“That sounds very mature of you,” Tia Dolores says.
“Keep that attitude up, and you’ll see what a difference it makes,” Cassandra says.
We’ll see if it does.