Amaya
The flowers on my desk Monday morning brought a smile to my face. A lovely spray of pinks and yellows brought color to my office and a blush to my cheeks. Orlando really was sweet, but this had been unnecessary. I checked the note. The flowers were not from Orlando, but from Riviera. So sorry about everything Saturday. Enjoy the flowers and a dinner out on us! – George and Riviera Painter.
“Whoa, who are those from?” Cordelia whistled as she came through the door. Her tiny frame took up no space, but the woman was a presence all her own.
“My bride and groom from this weekend. There was a little incident.” I filled her in on what had happened and how Orlando came to my rescue.
“He likes you, you know,” she said, wrinkling her nose.
She was just so cute. It made me miss my mom. “I know. I like him, too.”
A manicured hand ran delicately over the blooms. “Make him think these are from another man. See if he gets jealous.”
“Cordelia!” I was shocked she would suggest such a thing.
She winked and sauntered off, leaving me shaking my head behind her.
A text from my sister put me into slight panic mode.
Linaya: Mommy and Daddy are coming.
I missed my parents terribly, and while they didn’t live more than three hours away in southern Georgia, it might as well be thirty hours away for all that we saw them. There were weekly phone calls where my very southern mother asked why we weren’t married yet and my father told terrible dad jokes, but the visits were, regrettably, few and far between.
Amaya: When? Why?
Linaya: I told them about Aaron. They’re coming to meet him. And I might have told them about Orlando. And we have to plan my graduation party! I graduate in a month!
I almost forgot my baby sister would be part of the August commencement at SCAD. She had always planned to go to New York, but would she do that now with Aaron here in Savannah? They hadn’t been dating long, but my sister was head over heels for the guy.
Linaya: They’re coming up Friday. Is this a wedding weekend?
My calendar showed there was a small event at The Promenade Saturday and I was not going to be wearing a hideous gown. I bet Cordelia would be willing to head that up, especially if it meant she got to meet my parents.
A text from my mom confirmed their travel plans.
Mom: Change those spare sheets. We’re coming Friday.
With arrangements made for Cordelia to handle the weekend event, Linaya and I spruced up my place for our parents’ arrival. I had the spare bedroom for them since Linny was in a shared studio apartment, so they always stayed with me. We washed everything, picked up loads of fresh fruit from the market, and chewed our fingernails until they arrived.
“Sawadee!” Dad hollered at us from the other side of the door instead of knocking. The traditional Thai greeting was his way of announcing himself. When I opened the door, he repeated himself. “Sawadee, y’all!”
Mom pushed him aside and came through the door. “There’s my girls.” She kissed both our foreheads. “Linny, Amaya, let me see you.”
Mom was tiny but mighty, much like Cordelia, but in a totally different way. Mom was loud and proud with red hair piled on top of her head, cheetah-print everything, and earrings that could take out a prize fighter. She was as ostentatious as Cordelia was demure. I had missed her.
Dad followed her in and dropped their luggage to give us hugs. Though he was half Asian, he had taken after his American father and towered over the three ladies in the room. At fifty-five, he was thin as a rail with the metabolism of a hummingbird.
“Let’s go eat and you can tell us all about these men you’ve caught,” he said as he clapped his hands together. “I want some shrimp and oysters.”
“Just you wait, Emil,” Mom said, smacking him on the arm. “I need the ladies’ room, and let’s visit for a minute.”
Nope, nothing had changed at all. They were still our parents. Linaya looked at me and rolled her eyes at their antics.
The next day, Mom took Linaya shopping for graduation supplies while I took Dad with me to The Promenade to show him around. There was about an hour before the event happening in one of the smaller ballrooms, so I told him we needed to be quick. Our first stop was my office, which he was properly impressed by.
As we walked down the hall, Cordelia came our way and greeted us. “Who is this, Amaya? You bear a striking resemblance to him.”
My entire life I was told I looked just like my father, while Linaya looked more like Mom. Thankfully, Dad was an attractive man.
“Cordelia, this is my father, Emil Journet. Dad, Cordelia Daniels. She’s the owner of The Promenade.” They shook hands.
“Actually, I’m the former owner. Orlando, my son, has taken over for me. But I still like to be here, and help your daughter out, when I can.” She turned and walked with us down the hall.
“So Orlando is your son? We’ve heard a good bit about him from Amaya. Is he here today?” Dad made a show of looking around.
“He was here a bit ago,” she replied. “I’m not sure where he might have gotten off to, though.” She looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I didn’t warn him, I mean, tell him, we were coming by.”
Cordelia laughed. “Smart move.”
Around the corner we did find Orlando, speaking with Aaron.
“Well, Dad, I guess we can kill two birds with one stone. You get to meet them both at once.” I stopped in front of Orlando and took his hand. “Dad, this is Orlando Daniels. And this is Aaron Tierney. Guys, my dad, Emil Journet.”
Never had I seen two men stand straighter so quickly. They both were quick to shake Dad’s hand and tell him how nice it was to meet him. For his part, Dad played right into it, puffing his chest and squeezing their hands. I could only shake my head at their displays.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Cordelia said. “It was a pleasure, Mr. Journet.”
“Emil, please. And it was lovely to meet you. My wife will be sad she missed out.” He bowed to her.
“I have a feeling I will meet her soon enough.” Cordelia gave a slight wave and walked off, her steps silent.
“I’m sure these two have work to do today, Dad, so let’s get out of their hair.” I released Orlando and took my dad by the elbow.
He resisted my pulling. “Wait, wait. Why don’t you two join us for dinner tonight?”
“Dad!”
Orlando flashed a mega-watt smile. “Sure.”
Aaron nodded. “Sounds good.”
“The girls will send you the details once we know them. Does seven sound good? We’ll have to pick somewhere impressive since we have a real chef with us.”
With called out goodbyes, I pulled my dad away to show him the garden area. “Dad you’re a pain sometimes.”
“Don’t you want Mom and me to meet them?”
“Yes, but you put them on the spot.”
“Nah.” He put his hands in his pocket. “Hey, Amaya, do you know why Cinderella was so bad at soccer?”
I grumbled, but I loved his awful dad jokes. “No, Dad, I don’t.”
“Because she kept running away from the ball!”
My laughter echoed through the garden and a wren took off from its hiding spot. It was good to have my dad around, I had missed his corny jokes.
The jokes were plentiful that night at dinner. Dad fed us one after another and I’m pretty sure he endeared himself to both Orlando and Aaron. Orlando’s dad had been mostly absent after his parents split, and Aaron said his father took life way too seriously. Linaya and I couldn’t imagine life without our dad. He was an accountant by day, but he actually worked comedy clubs at night.
Orlando fussed over my mother and she loved every moment of it. He complimented her hair, her style, how she had raised me, everything under the sun. “Truly, Anya, your daughter is a light in this world, and she must get it from you.”
“Oh, darlin’,” she cooed at him. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“Worked for me,” Dad chimed in with a wink. Linaya and I could only laugh.
“Emil, while I love the accountant I have set up, I’m open to having you take a look at our books,” Orlando said. “You know as a businessman the bottom line is what it’s really about. I would love to go over my five- and ten-year projections.”
An elbow caught me in the ribs. “I like this one, Amy May,” Dad said. “He’s thinking ahead.”
Orlando tilted his head to the side. “Amy May?”
I shrugged. “It’s a nickname. Linny is Linny and Daddy calls me Amy May.”
“It’s her redneck name,” Mom exclaimed.
Fire crept up my cheeks. I loved my parents, but they were certainly letting their south Georgia roots show. “Mom,” I hissed.
But Orlando only laughed.
After we ate, Orlando pulled me to him. “Your parents are amazing.”
“Amazingly embarrassing?”
“No, they’re authentic and perfect as they are. I can see how they shaped you, the authentic and perfect person you are.” He kissed my nose.
“We are all definitely authentic.” My hand ran up his arm. “Thank you for meeting them and humoring them. I’m sorry I didn’t ask if we were at the ‘meet the parents’ stage yet.”
“You’ve met my mom.”
“I knew your mom before I knew you,” I reminded him.
“And that’s worked out beautifully. My mom loves you.” He winked.
My breath hitched, waiting to hear if he would follow that up with another love statement, but I knew it was too soon. It was too soon for me, so it had to be for him as well. Had I thought perhaps he would make a declaration? Had I hoped for it?
After dropping Linaya at her apartment and saying goodnight to my parents, I laid in bed and wondered why I thought he might say he loves me. We’d only been dating a short while. We’d both been burned before, so we had carefully danced around the fire instead of jumping right in.
You love him.
I do not.
Ha! Tell yourself that all you want, but you do.
Who made you the expert on me?
I am you. So I am the expert. And you love him. It happened after he knocked Kyle out. You knew you loved him then.
I closed my eyes and tried to fight the grin that spread across my face. It was a losing battle. A little squeal escaped my lips and I cozied down further in my blanket. My phone dinged, causing me to grab for it. Maybe it was Orlando. Instead, my sister’s name was on the screen.
Linaya: That went well.
Amaya: It did.
Linaya: Daddy really liked the guys.
Amaya: Linny, I think I love Orlando.
Linaya: I know that, silly. It’s obvious.
It was obvious? To who? Was it obvious to Orlando?
Linaya: Don’t worry, he’s just as clueless as you.
Amaya: How do you always know what I’m thinking?
Linaya: Sister power.
Amaya: Sister power is awesome. Goodnight.
Linaya: Goodnight Amy May.