Chapter 13 #2
Are you coming or not?
Pablo
Do we bring our wives?
Me
Yes
I don’t know which is worse: saying absolutely everyone in the family should be there or saying we need to keep whatever it is from our partners. Rarely is requesting the entire family come together a good thing if it isn’t a holiday, a birthday, or Sunday dinner.
The texts trickle in. Some are written responses.
Some are thumbs-up or heart reactions to my message.
Others are lone thumbs-up emojis as an answer.
I sit back when the last one pops up. Tía Elle says everyone can come to their house.
Even my Tío Luis is in town, so truly everyone will be there.
Neither Madeline nor Tía Margherita are on call.
“Can I make you something to eat, Joaco?”
“We could cook together.”
She observes me for a moment, her head tilted slightly to the right, before she nods. Her gaze travels from the tip of my hair to the tip of my shoes.
“You don’t look like you’re starving. Are you a good cook?”
“Yes. My tíos, tías, and Mamá made sure we can all cook and clean. They said their kitchens were no longer cafeterias once we each moved out. They’ve also said since we were children that if we were big enough to make the mess, we were big enough to clean it.
Besides maintaining our privacy, none of us are above scrubbing a toilet, so no one has a housekeeper.
Not even in the enormous houses my family live in now. ”
“That’s the same for my family. Somehow, I think you still sweep through your mom’s kitchen though.”
“Only twice a week—usually.” I smirk, and she laughs.
“Only twice?”
“Yeah. Each of us tries to see Mamá once a week on our own. Then we go over together once a week. Now Madeline and Anneliese join their husbands. I hope you will too, but I don’t want you to feel obligated.”
“It wouldn’t be an obligation. I want to get to know Mrs. Diaz better.”
“Mrs. Diaz? You know there are eight women who answer to that name. It’s just Luciana.”
“I can’t call her that. Not unless she invites me to, and even then—It’s too familiar. Too casual.”
“No, it’s not. Just the opposite. If you refuse to call her Luciana, she’ll think she’s offended you.”
“Okay.”
We head into the kitchen, where we make dinner together.
It doesn’t take long for us to put together something.
I suggested fish, but Tre shook her head.
Apparently, she needs to watch out for too much mercury in some fish.
She’d heard about it a while ago and wasn’t sure what kind was safe.
We settled on pork chops and vegetables.
She asked if I’d leave her any broccoli.
I blushed when I realized I’d taken almost all of it and left like six tiny florets for her.
I wasn’t much better with the spinach. I offered to put some back, but she gave me an indulgent smile and shook her head.
I wanted to say she reminded me of Mamá when she lets me get my way, but I didn’t think the woman I’m sleeping with would appreciate the comparison.
“Mamá?”
I call out to my mother as I step out of the town car. I offer Tre my hand to help her as my mother turns toward us. Her brow furrows for a moment before she beams at Tre. We meet halfway across the driveway.
“Hello, Mrs.—”
“Luciana. I’m certain Quino told you to call me that, but you weren’t comfortable without my permission. Please use my first name. Otherwise, all the women or none of the women will respond.”
Tre smiles, and I can tell Mamá’s forthrightness is a bit of a surprise, but a pleasant one. I watch them embrace before I lean over to kiss Mamá’s cheek.
“Mamá, we wanted to talk to you for a moment before we go inside.”
She glances at Tre’s left hand before her gaze meets mine. I want to shift uncomfortably. I don’t know if she was checking to see if I’d proposed or to tell me that Tre needs a ring on her finger. I watch my mother’s gaze, but it never lands on my girlfriend’s stomach.
“Of course, mijo.” My son.
I look down at Tre as she looks up at me. Our arms are wrapped around each other, and I don’t think she appears nearly as nervous as I fear I do. I meet my mom’s gaze again and inhale a fortifying breath.
“Mamá, Tre and I have some big news.” I pause to see how she takes that. She gives me her usual impatient stare. “Tre and I are having a baby.”
I don’t know if it takes a moment for the news to register or for her to compose herself, but the silence feels like it stretches to infinity and beyond. Except my two best friends—my brothers—aren’t here to get me out of trouble.
“I’m going to be an abuela! Papá and I are so proud of you, mijo.”
My mother often speaks about my father as though he’s beside her in the flesh rather than in spirit.
I miss my father every fucking day. I rarely go more than four or five hours without thinking of or about him.
I like that Mamá makes it feels as though Papá’s never out of reach.
My brothers and I need it, and she’s always understood that.
“Gracias, mamá.” Thank you, Mama.
“Tricia, I can’t think of a better person for Joaquin to walk this road with. I know we don’t know each other well, but we both know how to judge people. I’m positive you’re the right one for my son.”
Tre smiles, but I can tell she’s uncertain whether Mamá means it or is just being diplomatic. My mother grins, and I cringe. Lord only knows what’s coming next.
“You may need to invest in duct tape if it’s a boy. If he takes after his papá, he’ll water all your plants and run around like he lives in a nudist colony.”
“?Mamá! ?Ay dios mío!” Mama! Oh my God!
“What, mijo? I have the photos.” My mom gives me an unrepentant shrug before looking at Tre. “If I didn’t mean what I said, I would have politely congratulated you and recommended we step inside. I’m glad you’ll be my grandbaby’s mamá.”
“Thank you, Luciana.”
“Can we go inside now?”
As though facing my mother, who has no filter when it comes to teasing her sons, isn’t bad enough, we still have the rest of the family to tell.
“Sí, mijo. Cálmate.”
I glance over at Tre. I don’t think she needs me to interpret that it means calm down. My mother’s placating smile and eye roll say it well enough. My girlfriend and I follow my mother into the house. Everyone else is already there.
Marvelous.
I didn’t mean for us to be last. Javier and Jorge make a beeline for us while Madeline and Anneliese stand together and watch. All four of them appear nervous. I sweep my gaze over everyone else, and I can tell they’re uneasy too. I shake my head slightly, and my brothers retreat to their wives.
“I know there are a lot of them, but I swear they won’t bite.” I keep my voice low and barely move my lips as Tre and I approach the group.
“They’re a lot happier to see me than my family will be to see you.”
Well, that does nothing to reassure me that I’ll live to meet my child.
“Thanks for coming over. Tío, Tía, thank you for having us all over at the last minute. Tre and I wanted to share some news.”
The men narrow their eyes at me, and now I don’t fear not surviving Tre’s family. I fear not surviving mine. Tre’s fingers press against my side, and I meet her gaze. She gives me an encouraging smile while drawing my free hand to her belly. As though that didn’t just give it away.
“Tre and I are having a baby.”
It’s the same thing I said to Mamá, but it was far harder to say it this time than the first. Isn’t it supposed to get easier?