Lilac Mines by Cheryl Klein Page A

opposite of everything Felix strives to be. She even wants her own heartbreak to be different from Blanca’s. She recoils from the woman, until she is pressed against the balloon-printed wallpaper alongside Telly.
    â€œI know what you mean,” Anna Lisa continues to Blanca. “It was the same with my ex.”
    Felix holds her breath. Will her aunt play the pronoun game? It’s easy to be out-and-proud in a world of adults. In kid worlds, you risk the wrath of grown-ups who think the little ones should be fed neat and wholesome narratives. She wants Anna Lisa to accept the dare.
    Felix feels her summer hinge on whatever her aunt says next. If Anna Lisa resists the urge to be vague, Felix’s bones will knit. The woodsman will make capes out of Guy Guy and Eva Guy’s pelts, and Felix will wear her inheritance with ass-kicking confidence.
    â€œHe was out of my life by… good God, by 1974, I guess,” Anna Lisa says. “I moved to another town, but the mail followed me to my new post office box. There were so many documents, it kind of made him bigger than he actually was.”
    No, Anna Lisa will not sprinkle her speech with “they” and “them” and “my ex.” She will straight-out lie. She will just stand there, not even looking ashamed, her face serene and memory-glazed. She won’t even drop a Q-Tip. Felix’s legs bend beneath her.
    Blanca turns to her grandson. “Take that sheet out of your mouth, Telly. Are you a baby or are you a young man?”
    â€œNeither,” whispers Telly. The wet sheet falls to his lap. “I’m a little boy.”
    â€œLittle boys grow up to be young men,” she snaps. Then she speaks over the top of his head to Anna Lisa. “Why can’t he just get in fights like other boys? Why does he have to get in trouble for coloring in a library book, for goodness sakes?”
    Felix is breathing hard and fast, trying to think. There is something to be said here, but Blanca gathers up her grandson quickly and adjusts her purse. On her way out, she seems to see Felix for the first time, despite Anna Lisa’s introduction.
    â€œDon’t let our moaning and groaning get you down, dear. We’re just a couple of bitter old broads, God help us. There are lots of nice men out there, and if you’re lucky, you won’t make the same mistakes your aunt and I did.”
    Felix and Anna Lisa drive home from the vet’s in their separate cars. By the time Felix has a chance to talk to her aunt, the incident is far away, a debatable history. Maybe Anna Lisa said “she” and Felix misheard. But Felix’s stomach remains rubbery, and she spins this feeling into a pearl of anger. How is she supposed to transcend gaudy, rainbow flag-waving parades if Anna Lisa hasn’t even worked up to them?
    â€œI couldn’t believe you lied to that woman,” Felix says as her aunt changes from her comfortable nurse shoes to even more comfortable sneakers, like a lesbian Mr. Rogers.
    Anna Lisa looks up, perplexed. “What are you talking about?”
    â€œSaying your ex was some guy you divorced.”
    Anna Lisa stares for a minute. “Wow, your mother hasn’t told you anything, has she?”
    â€œMy mom told me you were gay.” Actually, she’d talked about “your aunt’s husband” when Felix was little, but she explained the truth when Felix was in junior high. That was the first time Felix paid attention—fascinated, horrified—to a story about one of her dull and distant relatives.
    â€œIt’s the 21st century, you know,” Felix says defensively. “People, like, died and stuff so we could be out.”
    â€œI never asked anyone to die for me.” Her aunt is clearly annoyed. Is she belittling Felix’s injuries? Not that Felix’s sacrifice was intentional, but she wants someone to tell her she is brave, even if it’s a