Blue Stars by Emily Gray Tedrowe Page A

him a noogie. Actually, she was glad for a moment’s quiet in the kitchen. And for the ferocious love Lolo had always shown Otis, another man’s son, even if it was on the bossy side. It had been five years, but Lacey still felt like Lolo was judging her, waiting for her to mess up. She’d confided this to Martine once, who had snorted and said, “Uh, yeah she is. You married her only son, what do you expect? She was hoping for J.Lo, she got you.” Lacey didn’t think it was the PR stuff standing in the way, though—Eddie’d had a white dad. In fact she and Lolo had more common ground than they admitted. Lolo had raised Eddie on her own, after his father split. She’d put in long hours as a secretary in a career that went from medical offices to local colleges to working for the Bronx borough president. But for whatever reason— the obvious ones, Lacey could hear Martine say—they couldn’t get along.
    In the living room, a plate of almond sugar cookies, mantecaditos, was set on the table. Tego, the cat, jumped into Lacey’s lap, but she shoved him off with a forearm. She went over to the front windows, which gave out practically right to the street, and looked at the houses on the other side: modest, neatly kept up, several American flags. Attached to Lolo’s window with a plastic suction cup was her red-and-white service banner, same exact one Lacey had. She lifted it to peek at the blue star on its front; several others of the same flag were hanging in windows on this street alone.
    “Sit down and relax, Lacey. What are you doing over there?”
    “Nothing.” This place always made her feel antsy. “I printed you out a couple of e-mails. We should get a call from him any day, but you know when they first arrive it’s all so—”
    Lolo was motioning, give me, give me. She took the folded papers and put on her glasses to study them. Otis flopped sideways on the couch whispering pleasepleasepleaseMom —he’d been begging to stop at Seafood City on the way out for hot dogs and video games. She made a just chill face.
    “What does he mean about ‘not happy but I’ll get over it’?” Lolo pointed to a page.
    “Some drama with one of the other unit COs. They had a mix-up about supplies, and Eddie didn’t get what he wanted.”
    “So why didn’t he?”
    “I don’t know, Mom. It doesn’t always go his way over there.”
    “Pff.” Then she told the story of the time in high school when Eddie and a friend got rear-ended in a “borrowed” car out by the Co-op City complex. The friend ditched, but Eddie owned up to everything. He had to do chores nights and weekends for a month until Lolo let him off the hook. And he never ratted out his buddy. Otis was rapt—he liked the part about Eddie in trouble—but Lacey had heard it before. She knew, she knew, Eddie could do no wrong, even when he was doing wrong.
    Lacey let her gaze travel around the small room, worn flowered furniture, Lolo’s cane leaning against her chair, no TV, framed photos everywhere, mostly of Eddie, one of Otis. There was one from her own wedding on a side table: Lacey angled to the side, bangs falling into her face, idiotic smile; Eddie, straight-on, jacket off, calm. But the biggest one, the best—they would all agree—was Eddie in ACU battle dress, digital cammies and black beret. Last year, Lolo had paid for him to go to a studio in town here, since he’d never had an official portrait done after ROTC. Lacey remembered him bitching about it, but now she was glad Lolo had won. Framed and huge and placed on a shelf all alone, it showed the real Eddie: confident, determined, unsmiling.
    There was so little to talk about here. Eddie had made her promise not to bring up any news, no matter what. After a few more minutes of chatting, Lacey couldn’t contain herself. “Okay, Mom, you got a list for me?”
    “Why are you in a hurry?”
    “It’s a school night. Otis has homework. What do you need me to fix?”
    “Well, I