Chapter 11
Vanessa
“Nena, ?dónde está tu capia?”
I look up from riffling through my purse to find Jason’s mother staring at me. Standing next to her, a middle-aged woman holds a wicker flower basket filled with the party favors that were a staple of my childhood.
“Oh, hello, Senora Elba. Good to see you again,” I tell Jason’s mother.
“Have we met before?” she says, angling her head.
I’m almost certain she remembers me, but I play along. “Yes, I’m Vanessa, Lisa’s sister. We met the day of the dress fitting when I picked her up.”
“Yes, yes, yes. But we didn’t really meet because you stayed by the curtains.”
“True, true. Well, it’s good to meet you now.”
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she plucks a capia from the basket and leans in to pin it on me.
Knowing I’m committing a faux pas of astronomical proportions, I take a step back and raise my arm to block her. “Oh, that’s okay. I’ll just hold it. I don’t want to get a hole in my blouse.”
She scowls, drops the capia into my waiting hand, and mutters “Suit yourself” as she walks away.
I hold back a grin. The universe is definitely my accomplice today.
Suddenly Jason appears behind me. “Having fun?” he asks against my ear.
A shiver runs through my body when I register his minty breath fanning across my cheek. “Uh, yeah. The music’s great.” I shift to my left to put some space between us. “I was just talking to your mother.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “How’d that go?”
“Fine. I think she’s warming up to me.”
“I don’t get the sense that she was cold to begin with.”
“No, but Puerto Rican men and their mothers share a special bond. I think any person in their son’s life automatically starts at neutral.”
He narrows his eyes. “Is that what you’re trying to do? Be in my life?”
“I, um, didn’t mean to say that’s what’s going on here. I was speaking in generalities, of course.”
“Got it.”
I draw back and survey his face, immediately noticing his detached demeanor. “You okay? You seem out of it or something.”
He shakes his head and gives me a smile that takes longer than usual to reach his eyes. “I’m fine. Just a little tired.”
“Let’s sit down, then. Looks like your sister and her fiancé are going to give a speech soon.”
“Sure, we’re at the table up front.”
He puts out his hand and I take it, trying but failing to ignore the way his long fingers interlace with mine.
We weave our way through the hall and sit down as the couple begins to address their guests, Camila saying “Hola” to everyone while Bryan says “Hello.” They laugh and beam at each other, after which Camila takes the lead: “We just wanted to thank everyone for wishing us well on the start of our momentous journey as a couple. Many of you have been in our lives for all the ups and downs and in-betweens, and we’re so glad you’re here today to celebrate with us.
Gifts truly aren’t the point of all this—”
“But in this recession, we’ll gladly take them,” Bryan adds, eliciting laughs from the crowd.
“The point is,” Camila says, shaking her head at Bryan’s interjection, “we feel your love and support, and that means the world to us.”
Everyone claps as Camila and Bryan seat themselves in extravagantly decorated chairs facing their friends and family, the table of gifts that had been in the back of the room now next to them. Perfect.
Jason’s mother, Elba, rises from her seat and shuffles to the gift table. “Now we get to the good part!”
“She’s shameless,” Jason says with a chuckle.
“She’s the mother of the bride. It’s her duty to be shameless.”
Camila and Bryan open each gift, which Elba then presents to the guests so they can let out obligatory oohs and aahs as Lisa records the details in a logbook. It’s a whole lot of nothing, honestly, and at one point I nod off, until Elba’s voice pierces the air. Why is she speaking so loudly?
“It’s very small,” she tells everyone as she hands the next gift to Camila. “But maybe it’ll be something useful.”
My gift. She’s talking about my gift. And considering the smirk she throws my way, she damn well knows it. This woman.
Camila peeks inside the box, and her lips curve into a smile. “Very nice. Thanks, Vanessa. We’ll be sure to put this to good use.”
“Well, don’t keep it a secret,” Elba says. “Show everyone what it is.”
Camila’s face pales. “No, we’re taking a little long. Let’s move on to the next one.”
“That wouldn’t be right,” Elba says, taking the box from Camila and removing the item inside. She lifts it in the air. “It’s in the shape of a flower, but what is it?”
Camila swallows. “It’s…uh…it’s a—”
“A massager,” I yell from my seat. “It has warming capabilities too.”
“Ooh, I need something like that,” Elba says. “For all the tension in my shoulders.”
“It’s safe for everywhere,” I add. “And super powerful.”
“Looks kind of weak to me,” Elba says, a challenge in her eyes. “It’s so small.”
I can’t help countering her wiseass remark. “Believe me, it gets the job done.”
“We’ll see,” she says. Then, to Camila’s horror, her mother holds down the power button, bringing the device to life, and swipes it across her neck and over her cheeks.
“Mami, you shouldn’t put that on your face,” Denise warns from the back of the room.
But it’s too late. Because Elba yelps, and then the suction feature causes the vibrator to seal onto her face, stunning her into immobility.
“?Ay, Dios mío! I can’t get it off. It must be broken.” Then she scurries back and forth, one hand holding the device and the other flailing wildly.
If she would just lift the device away from her cheek, she’d probably be fine, but she’s being dramatic for no reason—or possibly to make me look bad.
Cami whips out her phone. “Lord, forgive me, but I need photographic evidence of what’s happening right now.”
Groaning, Jason jumps up to help his mother, but Denise gets to her first.
“Stay still,” she tells Elba, holding in a laugh. “I can’t get to the power button if you keep moving.”
When the vibrator stops buzzing, Elba strokes her cheek. “What kind of massager does that?”
“The good kind,” Denise says, her face deadpan.
There’s snickering among the tables. When I chance a glance at Lisa, I spy her surreptitiously wiping tears from her eyes.
Jason looks over at me, his expression a mixture of awe and confusion. “A vibrator? Seriously?”
“Technically, it’s a stimulator. And yes, seriously. When I asked for suggestions, you told me to get something they’d both enjoy.” I point at the device, now safely tucked away in the gift box. “There you go.”
He shakes his head and slow claps. “Bravo. You just went up several notches in Camila’s eyes.”
I frown. “Really? Why?”
“Because she hates all this wedding hoopla, but she will never forget that her mother got a vibrator stuck to her face at her couples shower.” He lets out a deep belly laugh.
“And when my mother figures out that she was the center of the most hilarious moment at this party, she’ll eat it up like the attention-seeker she is.
Priceless. I was already happy that you came today, but now I’m extra glad you did. ”
I give him a tight smile. Huh. That’s not what I was going for. Maybe I’m getting rusty at this? No matter. The night’s still young. There’s still plenty of time to annoy Mama Torres.
Jason
Okay, I’ll concede this: The vibrator was a stroke of genius.
She couldn’t have known that my mother would take it upon herself to sample the “massager,” but Vanessa’s gift set off a sequence of events that will be imprinted in my brain forever.
I glance over at Vanessa and pretend not to notice her dejected expression. Part of me wants to laugh with her about the fiasco. Another part of me wants to wring her neck for being so underhanded. What the hell were she and Lisa thinking? It’s something I’ll be puzzling over for days.
“Want to dance?” Vanessa asks.
“Um, sure, let’s do it.”
Unlike my mother, I’m not a fan of being on display, but if Vanessa’s occupied with me, she can’t engage in whatever tactics she thinks will piss off my mother.
What a joke. Elba Graciela Guzmán Colón is not to be messed with.
If Vanessa wants to poke that hornet’s nest, she better prepare to get stung in the end.
When I get to the dance floor, I finally focus on the song on rotation: Daddy Yankee’s “Dura.” My mother’s probably going to have a fit if she pays attention to some of the lyrics. Luckily, a quick glance at her table confirms she’s deep in conversation with her friends.
“I love this song,” Vanessa yells as she leans in. “It’s perfect for twerking.”
Oh God, no. Not here. Not with my family a few feet away.
“Be kind to me,” I tell her. “I’m not a big dancer.”
She swings her arms to the beat, and I force myself to keep my gaze trained on her face.
I will not be taken in by the way her body sways to the reggaeton rhythms pumping through the speakers.
She looks phenomenal, too, with the ruffled skirt that ends above her knees fluttering against her smooth skin. Damn her, those hips definitely do lie.
“I’m not a big dancer, either, but I saw this video teaching people with flat butts how to twerk, and I realized I’m not half bad.”
She then turns around, drops down low, arches her back, and thrusts her ass in the air.
?Por Dios!
My cousin Héctor sidles over and begins to clap, egging Vanessa on. “Damn, primo, who’s this?”
Vanessa straightens, flips her curls away from her dewy face, and puts out her hand. “I’m Vanessa. Nice to meet you.”
“I’m Héctor. This dude’s cousin. In case you’re wondering, he’s not good enough for you. Might want to expand your horizons.”
She laughs. “I think I’ll stick with him for tonight, but thanks.”
Héctor shuffles away and joins a group of women dancing together while Vanessa spins around and starts twerking again. If you can even call it that. Mostly she’s just arching her back to the beat, her hands gripping the tops of her thighs.
“See?” she says with a broad smile. “Anyone can twerk!”
That’s debatable. In fact, what I’m witnessing is a prime example of that saying, Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.
“You know what else I learned to do?” she says over her shoulder.
“What?” I say, flicking open the top button of my shirt. Fuck, it’s hot in here.
“A split!”
And she proceeds to show me. By doing just that.
In the middle of the dance floor. In a goddamn skirt.
Thankfully, she’s wearing biker shorts underneath so she’s not flashing her underwear.
Well, I’m never living this down. Never.
Years from now, my family’s going to remind me that I once brought a woman to Cami and Bryan’s couples shower, and not only was she responsible for getting a vibrator stuck to my mother’s cheek, but she also twerked herself into a split as she danced to Daddy Yankee.
My mother suddenly appears at my side and pinches my arm. “Jason, what’s going on?” she asks through gritted teeth.
I need to play it cool here. Vanessa can’t know she’s succeeding at making me uncomfortable. “What does it look like, Ma? I’m dancing with Vanessa.”
“Well, stop it. Right now.”
“Want a lesson?” Vanessa asks my mother. “Anyone can do it. And you look like you could really show out on the dance floor, Senora Torres.”
Heat stains my mother’s cheeks, and she wrinkles her nose. “It’s Senora Guzmán Colón to you, young lady. Torres is their father’s name. And stop that right now!”
Vanessa freezes and rises to her full height. “Oops, sorry. I went a little too far, didn’t I?”
“You certainly did,” my mother says, and then she stomps away. Before she does, though, she gives me the evil eye and mimics violence by slicing a finger across her throat.
Oh shit. I’m getting an earful later, but it’ll be worth it. For all the same reasons that I’m not revealing what I know about the Cordero sisters’ little scheme. Still, I need to get this woman out of here before she can make any more trouble for me.
“The party’s winding down,” I tell her, slowing to a stop. “I’d be happy to take you home if you want.”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” she says as she dabs her face with a napkin she grabbed from a passing server. “I’ll just take a Lyft.”
“You sure?”
“Definitely.”
“I don’t mind walking you out.”
“Really, no need,” she says, panting. “You should stay with your family. I’m sure you’re itching to do something else.”
She’s right about that. “All right, then,” I say, shoving my hands into my pockets because I don’t know what else to do with them. “I’m on cleanup duty, so I should go help. Well, uh, thanks for coming.”
“Thanks for letting me crash the party,” she says, smiling brightly. “It was fun.”
“Enlightening too,” I say under my breath.
“And I’ll see you Thursday for the Mets game, right?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
I shake my head as I follow her off the dance floor.
This has been a ridiculous day, and that was quite the performance.
There’s no question in my mind it requires retribution.
Definitely not now. Maybe not even next week.
But vengeance will be mine. Eventually. Bonus?
As long as Vanessa’s around, the last thing my mother will be thinking about is her usually unrelenting preoccupation with getting me settled and married.
Who’s the genius now?