In the Country We Love by Diane Guerrero

Author:Diane Guerrero
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781627795289
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co.
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

My twenty-second birthday in Boston.

CHAPTER 12

The Edge

In the broken places, the light shines through.

—LEONARD COHEN, singer

Forecasters had predicted snow, and on the evening of December 13, 2007, it arrived. Ahead of the downfall, commuters rushed home early from work, bringing gridlocked highways to a standstill. Last-minute shoppers scurried into supermarkets to pick up bottled water. Neighbors emerged from their front doors and scattered salt on their steps, hoping to ease the next morning’s shoveling duties. By nightfall, the city’s hubbub had quieted to a murmur and Boston slept under a thick blanket of white. I was tired, so I turned in early, at nine, even before Brian had made it home. I was scheduled for back-to-back bartending shifts the next day and badly needed some rest. Maybe I won’t have to go in because of the weather, I thought. Things seldom went that way, but I could hope.

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! I lurched toward the alarm clock at my bedside and switched it off. 8:50 a.m. I glanced over at Brian, who must’ve come in after I was knocked out; I hadn’t even heard him. He stirred, turned over, and looked sleepily in my direction.

“What are you doing today?” he asked.

“I’ve gotta work later,” I groaned. I pulled the comforter up around my neck. Just five more minutes, I told myself. When I woke up again, the red digits on the clock read 9:40 a.m. Brian had showered and dressed. He popped his head in the bedroom.

“I have to make some stops on my way home so I’ll get in late,” he told me. “I’ll see you when I’m back.” Seconds later, he was out the door.

I stretched to get my phone from the nightstand. Two voice mails. I pressed PLAY.

“Miss Guerrero,” said a woman’s voice, “we have an urgent financial matter to discuss with you regarding your credit card account. This is our fifth and final attempt before legal action will be taken. Please return our call immediately. This is an attempt to collect a debt.” Click.

The next message followed. “Diane, I’m calling you on behalf of the Regis financial aid office,” I heard. “It’s extremely important that you come by our office as soon as you can. We need to talk with you about your Stafford loan.” Click.

I flung back the comforter and went into the bathroom. I turned on the faucet, leaned my head down into the sink bowl, and splashed cold water on my face.

As the holidays had neared, the city buzzed with lightness and joy. I wanted so much to be part of it but couldn’t fully do it. Do you know what it takes for a cheery and highly optimistic person such as myself not to enjoy Christmas? A lot, so you know shit had to be unsettled. Everyone seemed so happy; even the usual Grinches chirped hello to passersby. Salvation Army volunteers, with their rosy cheeks and big grins, stood out in front of Macy’s and rang their bells to welcome donations. I was

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