She’d taken the Powerball ticket instead.
Now it looked like she’d won.
They were millionaires.
“Mama!” she yelled.
“I was in the bathroom,” her mother said, walking in. “What’s—” She took one look at Maria’s face and, somehow, she knew. “Madre de Dios!” she cried.
“Double check for me,” Maria said, her breathing tight. “Make sure.”
Leaning over her shoulder, her mother looked at the ticket in Maria’s hand, then at the numbers on the screen. “Aaaaaiiiieee!” she screamed, throwing up her hands.
This couldn’t be happening. Things like this did not happen to people like them. It must be a mistake. She was looking at last week’s numbers, or someone had typed in the wrong numbers, or…or…something. They couldn’t have won—she glanced at the winning amount at the top of the page—six million dollars.
Six. Million. Dollars.
Maria suddenly felt dizzy. If she wasn’t sitting down… she would have had to sit down.
Inside her head, she could hear the pulsing of blood through her veins. It sounded like salsa music, a rapid syncopated beat.
It was a miracle.
Her mother thought so, too. She was crossing herself, praying in Spanish,
Maria put down the lottery ticket, afraid to hold it in her hand, afraid she might accidentally tear it, afraid her sweaty fingers might rub off one of the numbers. They couldn’t afford to take any chances. She placed it carefully on the desk, then grew worried because she was no longer holding it. She almost told her mother to take it, but her mama was clumsy and who knew what might happen?
Maria picked the ticket up again, breathing deeply, her heart pounding. “We have to turn this in,” she said. “As quickly as possible. We can’t let it sit here or leave it around the house. We have to turn it in, get the money and put it immediately in the bank.”
“And we can’t tell anyone,” her mother said, whispering.
Maria stood. “We need to go right now.”
“Go where?”
Maria turned the ticket over, reading the fine print, trying to figure out how to redeem their winnings, not something she’d ever thought of before because they had never won anything. There was a phone number and a website—
They were already on the website!
Stupido. She clicked on the instructions for claiming a prize. For an amount up to a hundred dollars, she could redeem her prize at any retailer that sold Powerball tickets. For larger amounts, she could send in her ticket or bring it in person to the lottery headquarters in Phoenix. A person correctly picking all six numbers including the Powerball number—
her!
—had to bring the ticket to lottery headquarters and had to agree to participate in a press conference and use her likeness for publicity purposes…
Maria stopped reading.
“Pack up what you need,” she told her mother. “We are going to Phoenix, and we are staying at an expensive resort.”
“We can’t. We have to open up the salon. Maybe we can close for one day, but tomorrow we need to open.”
“Mama, we never have to open again. Don’t you understand? We’re rich. We can do whatever we want to do. We can live wherever he want to live.”
Comprehension dawned in her mother’s eyes.
Maria smiled. “Yes, Mama.”
“I want to live in California.”
“Then we will. Now pack up a suitcase. We’re going to collect our money.”
****
Her sister seemed different.
JoAnn returned to the living room with two cups of coffee. Becky looked pretty much the same, her appearance had not changed, but she was quiet, subdued, not her usual brash and abrasive self. Accepting the coffee, she sipped it silently, and JoAnn wished Lurlene, Darla and Lita were here. She knew what they thought of Becky, and this would show them that her sister really had grown up. Handing Becky the coffee cup, she could hardly believe it herself. This was the meeting she usually told people had happened, not the one that really did, and for the first time in recent memory, JoAnn was glad that her sister had come to visit.
They talked for awhile, innocuous conversation about relatives and work. There was no argument for once, no shouting, and they finished talking on the same even keel as when they started. That was a miracle.
Done with her coffee, Becky put the cup down on the low table in front of her and stared for a moment out the window. Ordinarily, she would be unpacking by now, but this time she made no effort to take her suitcase into the guest room or even get off the couch.
She glanced nervously around.
“What’s the matter?” JoAnn asked.
“I don’t know.” Becky sat down, fidgeting.