Cowgirl Up

Chapter 2- Lily

I was feeling like complete and utter crap. When my alarm went off, I couldn’t even reach over and turn it off for fear of vomiting. My mom finally came in my room and turned it off, pulling back my covers. I groaned as I blindly searched for my comforter because I was cold as all hell. Goosebumps rose on my skin and I shivered but started sweating more. My mom reached down and lightly touched the back of her hand to my forehead. I heard her gasp, and she quickly returned my covers to me. There wasn’t any doubt that I was sick. But my mom couldn’t stay with me because she had an important meeting today. As an agent for a record label, she never had a day off. My mom had left my room, but she’d sent our maid, Rosa, to me with some Sprite, water, Tylenol, and a small trashcan. Rosa smiled and pushed my sweaty hair behind my ear. “Pobrecita,” she whispered, and I smiled at her. My mom walked into the room then, and handed me my TV remote that was sitting on my desk.

“I called the school, you’re excused for the day.” I’d managed to sit up by then, with the help of Rosa. I just nodded at her. “Right then. Well I have to go to work.” She kissed me on the forehead before leaving. “Thanks mom,” I managed to croak out. “I will take care of her,” Rosa reassured my mom in her heavy Spanish accent. My mom smiled at her. “I know you will.” Then she left.

The day was uneventful. I watched TV, I threw up, and Rosa made me some delicious soup that had Mexican spices in the tomato broth. It was ultimately just a normal sick day. By five in the evening, I was feeling a little better. Rosa insisted I eat downstairs, to get a little exercise. I smiled. I loved Rosa. She’d been our maid for as long as we lived in Los Angeles, and she loved me. She cared for me in a way my mother never did. I was walking down the stairs, pulling my blanket tightly around me, when the doorbell rang. Rosa appeared from the kitchen to answer it. She opened our front door, only to stop it just so her head was poking out. “Good evening, ma’am,” a man’s voice said. “Are you Rosa Gonzales?” Rosa was stunned for a second. “Yes, I am,” she finally replied. “May we please speak to Lily Mappleton?” Another man’s voice came. It sounded younger than the first one. I’d made it to the bottom on the stairs and I hobbled forward. “Who is it, Rosa?” I asked. She looked at me and I could see tears brimming her eyes. She opened the door all the way.

Two LA police officers stood on my front step. “Miss Mappleton?” the older one asked. “Yes?” He cleared his throat and shifted his weight. I noticed that both officers were standing with their legs spread about a foot apart. The younger one had his hands clasped behind his back, while the older one’s hands were clasped by his stomach. “My name is Rod Hughes, I’m a sergeant with the Los Angeles Police Department. Miss Mappleton, there is never an easy way to say this. Your mother was in an accident. She was driving on the highway back from LAX where she’d picked up your father to surprise you for your birthday.” Officer Hughes paused and I remembered that my birthday was in two days. My dad had been in Africa doing whatever doctors do in Africa and he’d said he couldn’t make it home. “Lily, your mother’s car was struck head on by a drunk driver. The driver had swerved into oncoming traffic and hit the car on the passenger side. Your father died at the scene, and your mother died in the ambulance.”

I laughed. Believe it or not, I laughed at him. My parents weren’t dead. They couldn’t be. My dad was in Africa and my mom was with a client. No one else laughed with me. The three of them stared at me like I was crazy. My laughter died. “W-what?” Officer Hughes bowed his head and repeated, “Lily, your parents are dead. I’m sorry.”