Towards the evening, my Mama came home. I heard her throw her purse down on the table from here and worry filled me up. Was she angry about something? Did somebody give her a hard time at work? Did someone ask her to take over a shift later? What was it?

These familiar scared feelings. I didn't want them. On top of everything, it was too much.

I hadn't done anything all day. Just thought about things, about Ambrose. Wondering what he was doing, what was going on. I knew that with drug addicts, if you don't get your drug you go into withdrawal. Painful, painful withdrawal. Was he okay? Even though he didn't want to see me, I couldn't help but worry about him. I needed to know if he was okay.

On the end of my bed on top of the Transformers blanket, Zorro was asleep and making little growling noises every now and then. She was on her back, a funny way of sleeping that seemed unique to her, her feet splayed everywhere. Getting up to go greet my Mama, I gave her belly a quick rub and she squeezed in all her fours and gave a rumbling, messy growl.

"Ruiz! You home? You better be home!"

Oh, crap, she was angry. Why? Why was she angry? And why was she yelling at me?

"Yeah, Mama. I'm home, I was coming to greet you," I called to her, opening my door. From the hall, I could see her taking off her jacket and putting it on the back of a chair.

She didn't look at me.

"How was work?" I was really prodding her to find out the source of her anger.

"Awful. Cindy messed up this patient's I.V again and again and the lady started crying and her husband started yelling at everybody. Cindy stuck her six times! Six! You're only supposed to stick once and get somebody else! Cindy knows better than that! So they got me to do it. That lady must've had the smallest veins in the planet, because I couldn't find a mark, and we had to run an I.V!" Her voice was flying.

"I'm sorry, Mama," I said quietly.

"God, sometimes I don't know what's wrong with people!" She was rummaging through the drawers next to the oven now, jerking them all the way out and throwing things around. I knew what she was looking for before she asked me. In a second she was brandishing a bunch of take-out menus in my direction. "Can you order a pizza or something? I don't care what kind. Goddamn, Cindy. I'm gonna talk to the LPN about her tomorrow. You don't stick a patient six times! You just don't!"

"Yeah, Mama. Um, what do you want on it?" I stared down at the familiar menus. It felt surreal, seeing them after all this time. I never thought I'd see them again, to be honest. I didn't really think I'd ever be here again, to be honest. I thought I'd be with Ambrose. Oh, Ambrose...if he wasn't like that...what would we be doing right now? Would we be eating dinner? Making it? What would he be cooking?

I realized with nervousness that I was standing in the middle of the kitchen not doing anything, just thinking. Mama had gone into her room and I heard her nurse scrubs coming off, going immediately into the plastic bag she always quarantined them into immediately for a wash. She'd told me hospitals are dirty, no matter what anybody tell you and you have to wash your uniform every day carefully, because you never know what kind of disease or infection is on them and anybody who doesn't is stupid.

My mind was wandering. I was supposed to be ordering a pizza.

"Ummm, I guess green peppers. Veggie pizza," she called to me from her room. Oh, right, I'd asked her what she wanted. Thank god she'd been thinking and I hadn't missed when she responded. I didn't like veggie pizza, but what she wanted we always had.

My mind drifted to Miss Cha Cha suddenly. How she'd always get half and half to accommodate me and Ambrose. Half cheese and half pepperoni, cheese for her and pepperoni for us, but anybody could eat what they wanted from either half. My Mama made no such considerations. My heart started pulling in my chest. Missing Miss Cha Cha. Missing her so bad.

I sat down at the table and brought the phone in front of me, extending the cord. I dialed the number of Mama's favorite pizza place. I didn't like them that much, because I found the crust to be too doughy, but whatever my Mama wanted my Mama got. As it rang on the other end, Miss Cha Cha's voice appeared in my head and I sighed deeply. "What pizza place do you want to order from? I like Gino's, but you like Domino's, right? You want Domino's? I don't mind. You two want-"

"Mia's. Can I take your order?"

This voice extinguished my thoughts. "Uh, yeah," I said, not expecting it. I gave them the order and due to being a little busy tonight, they told me it would be forty minutes. I hoped this wouldn't make Mama more angry.

A few minutes later, Mama came out of her room and sat at the table, looking through her wallet, probably for money for the pizza. I sat down with her. I didn't really know why. I just felt like maybe I should.

But it was a mistake.

"Did you look for a job today?" she asked, throwing receipts out of her wallet and picking a couple of tens out of from.

"Um...no," I said. The wonder leaked out in my voice. What was she talking about?

"You know you gotta get a job to stay here. Things are going to be different from now on."

To stay here. What did she mean? I didn't dare ask. "Um...I'll start looking tomorrow. I promise." My hands curled into one another under the table nervously.

"Going to that contest every week isn't going to pay the bills, either. That's not a job, Ruiz."

"Yes, Mama. I don't actually..." I swallowed, telling myself this more than her, "I don't work there anymore. I mean, I won't be in those contests anymore."

She didn't pause to ask why or anything. I didn't really expect her to, not while she was in this mood at least. She put the two ten dollar bills on the middle of the table. "I saw McDonald's is hiring. That one near Times Square. Big sign in their window."

Words exited my mouth before I could stop them, not used to her after so many months. "But I don't want to work at McDonald's." I pressed my lips together, remembering how I wasn't supposed to talk back. How what Mama says is what goes.

"I don't think you're really in a position to pick and choose. You gotta find a job where you can. That's part of being an adult," she said. I could feel her staring at me even thought I was staring down at my hands. The heat of her angry look. "Nothing is going to be handed to you. I thought it was really selfish and childish of you to give up that job at McCrory's Pub, too. That won't happen again."

"Yes, Mama."

"When the pizza guy comes, you give him the money, but don't give him a tip. I can't afford that."

"Yes, Mama."

"We can't even really afford the pizza, but I don't want to cook. I've been on my feet too much as it is."

I didn't want to tell her that I would have cooked something if she'd just asked. So, I kept my lips zipped and listened to her.

"When you get a job, I expect you to pay rent, too. Things are going to change. I didn't appreciate what you did, not coming home. Do you know what position that put me in? I owe the landlord some back rent because I couldn't afford the full rent."

"I'm sorry, Mama."

"Well, you're here now, so. We'll fix this. But I expect you to go out tomorrow and look for a job. What did you do all day?"

I really didn't want to tell her that I'd slept for most of the day. But what else was there to say? "Um...I slept until 3 o'clock and...didn't do much after," I admitted.

"Well, that's okay, I guess. You didn't get any sleep last night, did you?" This still sounded accusing, but it was much nicer than what I'd expected. It gave me a little bit of relief. At least she wasn't yelling at me about it, though she was still being harsh.

"Mama?"

"What?" she snapped. I winced.

I didn't know what was giving me the courage, maybe her more gentle response to my sleeping all day, but I decided to give into my feelings. "Are you mad at me right now?" I asked cautiously.

"Not particularly."

Oh. That was a good thing at least. More relief surged through my veins. "Then why are you yelling at me?" She wasn't really yelling, but I wanted her to get the point.

This brought her pause. She stared at me and I stared back but looking down below her face at her neck to show respect. "Am I yelling at you?" she asked, going softer immediately.

"Yes, Mama."

"I didn't mean to. I'm mad at Cindy at work."

"I know."

"I just don't get how somebody can stick a patient six times. I thought about that lady all day. She had a stroke, doesn't really know what's going on. Cindy put her through such unnecessary pain and she didn't even get why she was being stuck. She was crying and begging her husband to make us stop hurting her. I can see why her husband was so mad at us. I can't- god it makes me so mad!"

She had a stroke. Georgina. Images of Georgina having to be stuck six times for an I.V entered my head. Images of her crying and not understanding what was going on, begging me to make the nurses stop hurting her. My vision became misty.

"That poor lady. I'm so sorry that happened. Really. My friend had a stroke recently, so I can kind of understand what that man must have been thinking." I looked at my Mama's face now, waiting for her reaction to this.

Her expression softened. "Your friend? What are you talking about?"

"My friend. Did I tell you about her before? Do you remember Charlie at the Jewish grocery store. Charlie introduced me to her, she lives in his neighborhood. She's kind of an older lady. I used to visit her a lot, usually on Sunday or Friday. She was really kind to me. But she had a stroke and now..." I bit my lip, thinking about her. She'd gone home with Miss Cha Cha today. Was she okay?

"Oh, I see. I'm sorry she had a stroke."

"Yeah. It's okay, though. She went home from the hospital with Miss Cha Cha. You know, that lady you spoke to on the phone today."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

The sound of rumbling stubby feet filled the hallway and we looked at the same time to see Zorro come rushing past us at the table and start scratching the door, whining. My Mama's face immediately became harried, and she sighed deeply in her stress.

"I'll take Zorro out," I offered, already getting up, seeing this.

"No, I'll do it. You pay the pizza guy when he comes." Her chair scraped against the linoleum as she got up.

"Really, it's not problem. You've been on your feet all day. You should sit down," I said, not on my feet.

"Ruiz sat down. I'm going to do it. How many times did you take her out today? Why don't you give her dinner instead? Maybe give her a half can."

Why was she offering to take Zorro out? She never wanted to take Zorro out. "I can feed her after I get back, Mama. Really."

But she wouldn't hear my protests. She was still going no matter what I said, now walking up the hallway to get Zorro's leash from the closet. Zorro started whining, scratching the door harder.

"Can you grab her? I don't want her scratching up the paint. That comes out of our deposit."

"Okay, Mama." I leaned down and grabbed Zorro's collar, taking her away from the door. This caused her to bark, wiggle to get back to the door. "You're gonna go out," I tried to assure her, but it didn't do anything.

Mama reappeared with the leash and took hold of her collar from me, snapping it on. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Wait for the pizza guy."

"Yes, Mama."

She waved to me as she left, raising my confusion more. When the door closed, I stared at it in wonder. This was such a strange consideration for me. Why had she suddenly done that? I thought about this as I went to the cabinet and pulled out some of Zorro's Alpo, and put it under our automatic can opener. The loud whirring drowned out my thoughts.