"Please. Tell me what's wrong," I said."Daddy..." he said with a sob. "Make him go away. He's ... wrong."He was pointing at his own reflection in the ...racked mirror.I had no idea what to say to that, so I just held him, rocking him, andstroking his hair, like I had when he was a baby.He quieted, and I got him up, took him to his room, helped him undressand tucked him into bed. I looked around the room, and suddenlyrealized how atypical it was for a teen boy's room. In fact, it was likeit had. Louisa was surprised and overwhelmed by the news. Gina wouldn’t let me carry the machines, lugging them in herself while I explained to both of her parents about how I’d talked to Mark about her working for them part time.“Does she really need a part time job?” Louisa asked with a slight frown.“As far as I’m concerned, neither she nor her mother need to work,” I said simply. “But I’m learning that Latina women are fiercely proud and the best thing I can do is bow to their better. More

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