Me, You, & The Party Rock Crew

“But your ghost, the ghost of you–it keeps me awake.” – Ghost, Ella Henderson, 2014. 

It was like being plunged into an ice bath. 

From mild California sunshine to a ruthless 35 degrees, Chicago in December did not play. The wind cut right through her jeans as she stepped out of the airport, and for a second, she actually forgot how to breathe. 

Izzie shivered violently as she fumbled to zip up her black puffer coat. Her teeth were already chattering, and her nose stung from the sudden chill. She glanced down to check on Stelly, who was curled up in her little space backpack like the world’s most judgmental burrito, wrapped tightly in a blanket. The cat blinked once, slowly, and unimpressed. 

Normally, Izzie would’ve just called an Uber and gotten it over with–but her cousin Eddie had been adamant about picking her up. 

Sure enough, she could hear him before she saw him. 

The unmistakable bassline of Mask Off by Future rattled the arrivals lane. A black Dodge Charger pulled up like it owned the place, music blaring loud enough to startle the pigeons. Izzie winced as the trunk popped open. 

“Here we go,” she muttered, dragging her suitcase toward the chaos. “Hey! Turn it down! You’ll deafen Stelly!” 

Eddie was far too locked into the beat drop to notice. Izzie smacked her palm hard against the trunk. 

He jolted. “Oh shit, my bad, cuz!” He shouted over the music, finally turning the volume down and jogging around to help her. 

At last, Izzie could hear her own thoughts again. 

“Aww, you brought my girl Stell!” Eddie beamed, reaching for the backpack. 

Stelly let out a long offended mrow, as if to say, keep your distance, traitor. 

“Damn, she’s still mad about the bath incident, huh?” Eddie winched, stepping back in mock fear. 

“I would be, too,” Izzie called as she climbed into the car, a teasing smile on her lips. 

With the suitcase tucked in and Izzie securely buckled, Eddie revved the Charger with dramatic flair and peeled off like he had somewhere urgent to be. 

And just like that, they were off, racing into the frostbitten haze of a Chicago winter afternoon. 

They pulled up to Abuela’s house exactly twenty minutes later. The rusty, red-bricked two-story still stood proudly in the center lot, just as she remembered it. It was decked out in a classic multicolored Christmas lights, twinkling despite the gray sky. The front steps had a fresh coat of paint–burgundy, of course–that somehow hadn’t chipped despite the brutal Chicago winter. Eddie had done a solid job with the upkeep since Abuelo passed. 

Still, Izzie had to pause before getting out. It hit her all at once–she wasn’t ten anymore, coming home from school with frozen fingers and a backpack full of spelling tests. This time felt different. 

“Home sweet home,” Eddie said as he shut off the engine. “I’ll help you with your bags, then I gotta move the car to the garage, he added, tossing her a grin. 

“Thanks, cuz,” she smiled, her voice soft.

She let herself in with the same old brass key that had never left her keychain, the one with the little purple butterfly charm faded from years of use. The moment the door opened, warmth wrapped around her like a blanket–the scent of cinnamon potpourri and her Tia’s simmer pot filling the air. The kitchen was bustling, the soft clatter of pans and voices carrying down the hall. 

For a second, she swore she could hear her mother’s voice echoing from the back, but as she kicked off her boots and glanced up, her breath caught in her throat. 

There it was–the family altar. Quiet. Still. 

Her mother’s urn sat in the center, surrounded by plastic purple rose petals, just as she remembered. Her sister’s picture rested to the left. Abuelo’s picture and urn on the right. 

Right, she reminded herself. They’re gone. 

“Isabella!” Abuela’s voice broke through the ache, bright with joy. 

Izzie turned just in time to see her, hair now more salt than pepper, arms already open. She walked into the embrace without hesitation. 

“Welcome home, mija,” Abuela broke the silence spell that Izzie hadn’t realized she had been in. Yet, she felt, warm, a little lighter now that she was home. 

“Titi Izzie!” a small voice piped up. 

She turned and saw her: the near spitting image of her little sister, barreling from the kitchen to the dining room straight into her arms. 

“Livie!!” Izzie scooped the little one up, grinning ear to ear. “Gosh, every time I come home, you’re getting so much taller,” she laughed. 

“Uh-huh! One day, I’m gonna be as tall as you!” 

That earned a snort from Abuela, and Izzie raised a skeptical brow. Last she checked, Abuela was a whopping 4’11” compared to Izzie’s hard-earned 5’3”. 

“Well, I’m looking forward to it. Where’s mommy?” she asked, still holding Livie.

“In the kitchen!” 

“Dani!” Izzie called out, her voice echoing with that feeling of finally being home. 

“Ugh, what do you want?” came the response, playful but tired. There she was, hand on her hip, belly like a beach ball. Dani looked about ready to pop 

“Jesus…one sneeze and those babies will come FLYING out,” Izzie teased.

Dani didn’t look amused. So Izzie pointed toward her suitcase as if to offer a peace treaty. 

“I brought presents. Santa even handed me a few extra-special ones for Miss Olivia herself,” she added, smiling brightly. 

“Can I open–” 

“No,” the women all said in unison. 

Olivia pouted and resigned herself to trotting off to place the presents under the tree. After all, her personal holiday challenge was to stay up until midnight to open presents. 

“You sound like your Titi Izzie when she was little,” Dani snorted. 

Of course, Dani was the judgy cousin–always had an opinion, whether it was comparing how Izzie used to be as a kid ordragging up the latest conundrum like Hala’s wedding. Still, Izzie valued her Virgo insight more than she let on. 

“So you’re telling me after all these years, Simon’s showing up and bringing that girl?” 

“Yup.” 

“You just say the word, we can roll up too.” 

Eddie’s eyes widened. “WE?! Who the hell is we?!” 

Dani rolled her eyes. “Terry isn’t with it like we are, you know that.” 

“There will be no rolling up. This isn’t high school, y’all,” Izzie laughed

“Well, technically, it’s a high school reunion–” Dani started. 

“My reunion,” Izzie cut in quickly. “My class. Not you guys’.” 

“What’s this thing about rolling into a class reunion,” boomed a voice from the door. 

Tio Tomas stepped in, grinning, the cold clinging to him as Izzie shivered. The tip of his nose glowed red, making him look like Rudolph. 

“What’s up, Tio?” Izzie beamed. 

“Damn! All the way from Santa Monica, my favorite niece.”

Dani cleared her throat. 

“I don’t have favorites. Everybody’s a favorite,” he winked at Izzie. She looked away, whistling like she hadn’t heard. Dani knew better–Tomas and Izzie had always been the dynamic duo. He’d been chosen as her godfather at the wild age of 21, and while no one quite knew why Idalys thought a forever-frat-boy uncle was the best option, the truth was simple: when Darren Wallace–Izzie’s father–was stationed in South Korea, Tomas had stepped up. 

“So what’s the latest?” He asked, setting the beers down on the table, rubbing his hands together for warmth. 

“Oh you know,” Izzie teased, “your other niece and nephew are plotting to crash my reunion. Same old.” 

“I’m not a part of this,” Eddie raised his hands. 

“Girl, we were trying to help!” Dani protested. “Tio, Simon’s marrying that girl!” 

“Look, all that will-they-won’t-they drama aside, he’s marrying someone that nearly got you kicked out of theatre and suspended from school. That’s not love, that’s him being a shitty ass friend. 

Izzie’s skin prickled at the thought. 

“Yeah, well, some people have short memories,” she muttered, focusing on the condensation forming on the beer bottles on the table. 

Tomas tilted his head, watching her carefully.  “And you don’t?” 

“Not when it comes to betrayal.” Her tone was sharper than she meant, but the room went quiet for just a second too long. 

Little Olivia, sensing the shift, tugged at Izzie’s sleeve. “Titi, can you help me put a star on the tree?” 

The tension broke like thin glass. Izzie forced a smile, hopping to her feet. “Of course I can. Somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t hang it sideways.” 

As she lifted Olivia onto her hip and carried her toward the tree, Dani whispered something low to Eddie, who shot her a warning look. Tomas just shook his head, the kind of shake that meant: let her be. 

By the time the star was secure and the lights were glowing, the heaviness had been tucked away, replaced by the warmth of twinkling multicolored bulbs, many more relatives making their way into the room, and the chatter of dinner plates being set out. Deep down, however, Izzie felt the echo. The past wasn’t as far away as she wanted it to be. She remembered that day so vividly that it still made her skin prickle. 

“You didn’t let him finish–it was tied correctly, here, I have proof–” Izzie had fumbled for her phone, hands shaking, but Mrs. Wellerby cut her off. 

“Both of you are out of this show and are facing suspension. Principal’s office. Now.” 

Gasps ripped. Izzie’s face burned. Hatter’s jaw dropped. Someone untied it. 

“Are you kidding me?” He said quietly. 

“I said I have proof!” Izzie’s voice cracked across the auditorium, hands shaking. Murmurs rippled through the rows of students. 

“Leave. Now!” 

“You won’t even give us a chance to explain? Someone untied our rig!” Her words hung in the air, sharp and desperate. 

The doors creaked open–Xandra had arrived just in time to hear as she had gone to grab Mr. Erikson, the department head for the construction crew. 

“I have the picture right here on my phone, too,” she added. 

“Of course you’d cover for your friend,” Wellerby snapped. 

“Patty, just hear them out–” Mr. Erikson began. 

“Out. Now!” She pointed to the door. 

Izzie shook her head at Xandra before she could argue further. “It’s not worth it. We’ll go.” 

She and Hatter stood. As Izzie turned, she caught it–a flash of a grin from Elaine. Quick, cruel, gone in an instant. 

She’d almost lost it then, almost let her rage spill over, but instead she swallowed it down and left with Hatter, both of them fighting tears. 

That smirk, however. That was the part that never left her. Like a ghost, it lingered. 

Even now, sitting at the table in December warmth, she could almost see it when she blinked. And it still stung–the memory of Hatter and Xandra standing by her, of the betrayal that came after. 

“Yeah, he was a shitty friend for that,” Izzie admitted. Shaking herself back to the present. 

“He had my back against her in high school and then he turns around and marries her? Wild.” 

“You just say the word and your tios and I can go fu–” Tio Tomas began. 

“We’re not,” Izzie laughed, cutting him off before Abuela’s chancla came flying to get them two back up to help her bring out the food.