*Norah*
Kneeling in the dirt, I skim my fingers over the vine until I locate the tomato. I cradle it between my hands, gently feeling for its ripeness. I offered to help Julieta in the garden because I desperately needed something to do. Like my mother, I've never been one for standing still. When my finger touches a squashy portion, I grimace with revulsion. There's something about the slimy feel of rotten vegetables that curdles my stomach. I pluck it loose and gauge its weight. It might work.
"That one is rotten, señorita," Julieta says.
"I know. I'm trying to decide if I want to throw it in your brother's face."
"River has made you angry."
I toss the vegetable aside before beginning another search for a ripe tomato. "He has a habit of doing that," I mumble.
"During the midday mea
