23. Marisol #2
“Geez, Mar, I’m kidding. I’m over the whole Archie thing. Does this mean Archie is out of the picture finally?”
“I wish,” she sighed, her heart rate going back to normal. “Still waiting for him to sign the papers.”
“Are you serious? That fucker is?—”
“Girls.” Both Lola and Marisol jumped at the new voice.
Neither one of them heard their mother come in, but there she stood, all five feet of her.
She was dressed to the nines, like she always was.
Even just sitting outside was an event to her.
The black and white dress she wore was surely new since Marisol had never seen it before.
She paired her outfit with matching pearl earrings and a necklace.
“You’re taking an awfully long time here. I figured you got lost.” She tried to peer around Lola to see Marisol, disapproval coloring her features.
“We were just coming out. Weren’t we?” Lola grabbed water off the table. She offered their mother a tight smile and headed back outside. Back to safety.
Trying to make the same clean escape, Marisol grabbed her wine glass and followed her sister.
Right before she could make it to the door, her mother reached out to touch her arm.
“You didn’t tell me you were bringing a guest,” she said, her voice deceptively friendly.
Marisol had heard it many times before, though, and knew the anger lurking underneath.
“Yeah, sorry. It was a last-minute decision. He was at the house?—”
“He was at your home?”
Fuck. She said too much. Marisol shrugged, which only irritated her mother more. She knew how she felt about nonverbal responses. “Yeah.”
“I see.” She pursed her lips together in a tight line. “He’s…di fferent from the men I usually see you with. Quite different from Archie.”
That was the point. She never wanted to date an Archie again. She had her fill of those types of men. “He treats me well.” Better than well, but her mother didn’t need to know more.
Marisol thought that was the end of the conversation, but her mother couldn’t let it go. “You’re still married, though, aren’t you, dear?”
“Technically,” she gritted out.
“I see.” More judgment. More anxious nerves coiling low in her belly. “Not ideal, would you say? People talk about these kinds of things. Reputation is everything, dear. Archie’s. Yours. Our family’s.”
This was why she didn’t want to be here.
She knew her mother would have a problem and start to make Marisol doubt all of her decisions.
She hated how easily her mother could stir up doubt within her.
The familiar need to make her mother happy and give in was strong, but she had worked so hard to make strides for herself.
She refused to let her mother set her back.
“No one’s reputation is at stake here. This is a family dinner, one you invited me to?—”
“Yes, just you,” her mother interrupted.
“Well, it’s not just me anymore, Mom. It’s Cisco too. I know you thought Archie was the man I should marry…that we should simply work out our problems, but we can’t. I don’t love him, nor do I want him as a husband. I’m happy, Mom. Can’t you just be happy for me?”
Luciana’s lips pursed into a tight line, nostrils flaring with quiet anger. Marisol knew what she was going to say before she spoke. “I’m so disappointed in you, Marisol. Whether you like it or not, you are still a married woman and must behave like one.”
A mixture of anger and shame rose inside her, but before she could respond, her dad stuck his head inside the door. “Camilia is calling for you two. You better get out here before she comes and gets you.”
Marisol was saved for now, which was good. She feared she’d say something to her mother she’d regret later. But she still had the entire dinner ahead of them to survive.
“They don’t make ‘em like this at the steakhouse,” Travis said, placing the steaks down on the glass table, opting to eat out by the pool rather than use their formal dining room in the house. “Cooked to perfection. Anything above medium rare is a crime.”
Their father always gave the same speech every time he made steaks. Marisol met her sister’s eye, and they shared a silent laugh.
Amongst the plate of steaks was one grilled chicken for their mother.
Luciana avoided most red meats like the plague, so she always made sure chicken was available.
For the longest time, Marisol had followed in her footsteps, but a person could only eat so much poultry before the very thought of it made her sick.
Usually, her mother would make a comment about Marisol’s food choice, but keeping silent told Marisol just how upset her mother was about Cisco being here. It made her blood run cold.
There were also hot dogs for the kids, since steak didn’t impress them. Javi was getting their plates ready, adding extra ketchup for Fabian while Lola scooped fruit onto Camilia’s plate.
Without prompting, Cisco made her plate, picking out the steak and mixing up a Caesar salad to pair with it.
He placed it down in front of her, kissing her temple when he was done.
In front of her whole family, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Marisol rarely, if ever, showed any displays of affection with past partners, but her feelings for Cisco needed to be expressed in the open.
Even if that meant her family were witnesses.
Her mother’s cold gaze bore into her, but Marisol did her best to ignore her as she cut into her steak. Her mom was a ticking time bomb, and she'd have to deal with the explosion eventually, but not until she absolutely had to.
Conversations around the table flowed easily, mostly led by her father. He asked Javi about his contracting jobs. Marisol didn’t quite understand how it worked, but apparently he took a big job for some fancy hotel. By the looks of it, Lola seemed incredibly proud of him.
And Lola’s bookstore was flourishing. She had officially hired two new people to help around the store and promoted another one to manager.
This allowed her to take some much-needed time off to spend with her family.
And now that they were trying for a third child—which she didn’t share at the table—it would give her peace of mind, knowing her shop was in good hands.
Javi updated her father about his sister, Ofelia, and Ofelia’s baseball player husband, Maverick.
Although their children, Arturo and Violeta, weren’t technically Travis’s grandchildren, her father always treated them as if they were.
Currently, they were traveling with Maverick for his season but promised to catch up with everyone over dinner soon .
Eventually, the conversation circled around to Marisol and Cisco.
At first, the answers were innocent enough for her father.
He wanted to know what was going on in her life, so Marisol divulged a little information about how she adopted a cat named Snowball and that she would probably start volunteering at the shelter.
Her dad asked about the shelter a bit, excited that Marisol found a “positive” way to spend her time.
After leaving the winery business, Marisol had been lost. She was fortunate enough to not have to worry about money because her father took care of her, and she had a good amount of money saved away in an account she had since birth.
It wasn’t the money he was worried about though. It was her loneliness.
Then, the conversation took a shift when her mother spoke up. “So, how did the two of you meet?” She eyed Cisco like he was the leftover trash she forgot to take out. If Cisco noticed, he didn’t show it. His face remained calm, even smiling at times.
Her own composure was quite different. Despite the nice Californian breeze, Marisol felt hot all over. Her face flushed, and she couldn’t stop her leg from bouncing, a tell-tale sign she was nervous.
“How we met?” she repeated the question, earning another glare from her mother. She couldn’t tell them how they met because then she’d have to divulge that she got a tattoo, and Cisco was the one who gave it to her. Her mother would absolutely explode if she heard that.
“We met at therapy,” Cisco said before Marisol could come up with a lie. “Marisol was leaving a session, and mine was just starting. I thought she was beautiful, and, well, here we are.”
Not technically a lie, she realized. They did run into each other at therapy. It just wasn’t what she thought of when thinking about their first meeting.
“I see,” Luciana said. “It’s just a shock to me.” She laughed, expecting the rest of the table to join in, but no one did. Still, it didn’t deter her. “Marisol is still married, you know. That’s why I’m confused.”
“Luciana,” her father chastised.
“What? Can I not be protective over my daughter?” she asked, feigning innocence.
Marisol wanted the earth to open up and swallow her whole. A warm hand settled on her thigh. She looked down to see Cisco gently squeezing her. The small touch provided more comfort than it should, and she relaxed slightly.
Oblivious to the discomfort around the room, her mother continued to speak. “You said you own a tattoo shop? Does that require schooling?”
“I graduated from Cornell University. Helped me start my shops.” He took a sip of wine and made an appreciative sound. “Is this yours?”
Her father’s face brightened. “It is. Our bestseller. What do you think?”
“Pretty damn good. I might be a frequent customer at your store once it opens. Dangerous to have me so close.” They laughed, but Marisol watched her mother tense.
“Close? What do you mean close?”
“Cisco here is going to be our neighbor. Another shop is opening up by the store,” her father said, taking a big bite out of his steak. Some of the juices ran down his cheek, staining the front of his shirt.
Her mother’s disapproval only grew. “Our clientele doesn’t match those who frequent tattoo shops. The last thing we need are thugs hanging outside our doors. No offense to you, of course,” she said to Cisco, even though she definitely meant that to be insulting.
“Mother,” Marisol hissed, trying and failing to keep her voice level. She wasn’t used to standing up to her mother, and it scared her shitless. “Would you let it go? The only thing you are accomplishing right now is creating an awkward dinner. Cisco is my boyfriend?—”
“Oh, there is no need to be throwing out titles, Marisol,” her mother interrupted.
“This is all so sudden, and you aren’t even divorced yet.
Why throw someone else into the mix? Archie is doing his best to go about this civilly, and from what I understand, you have done nothing but drag your feet.
Honestly, dear, I just worry about you. You’re not acting yourself.
Maybe your therapy isn’t working as well as you think it is.
That’s why I stopped going to mine. I found it didn’t help me.
You may want to consider doing the same. ”
Her earlier bravado slowly deflated. Her mother wasn’t even trying to listen to her or hide the fact that her preference was firmly in Archie’s favor.
It was never about her happiness, only the image she wanted to uphold.
More surprisingly, her mother’s revelation that she quit therapy was just another slap in the face that Luciana never really cared to mend the broken relationships she had with her daughters.
Stubborn tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She heard her father and Lola whisper something to her mother, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. She couldn’t hear anything but her own insecurities pounding in her skull.
“Did you know Archie harasses her?” Cisco’s voice cut above everyone else, even within her mind, and the whole table quieted, all looking at them.
His jaw clenched as he stared down her mother, not wavering under her penetrating glare.
“ He’s the one dragging his feet about the divorce.
He uses it to control her because he knows he has no power without her.
But despite that, Marisol still thrives.
She can still laugh and create the life she wants.
If you cared enough to know anything about your daughter, you’d see just how wonderful she truly is, but how terrified she is to upset you.
Maybe if you cared about your daughter and not some image you want to convey to god-knows-who, you’d realize just how much you are missing out. ”
Silence followed.
Her mother opened and closed her mouth. A fish struggling out of water. Her cheeks flamed red with both anger and embarrassment.
“This is oddly familiar,” Javi muttered under his breath, earning a light smack from Lola, who tried to hide her smile from her husband.
“Luciana, you do this every time,” her father’s patronizing voice boomed around the table.
But Marisol’s eyes were fixed on the man beside her. The man who saw through the bullshit her mother spread. The man who defended her, even if that meant her family hated him for it. But how her family felt about him didn’t matter. Probably never did. He only cared about how Marisol saw him.
At that moment, she knew.
Knew Cisco would defend her from her family. Save her from herself, if she needed that.
Knew the feelings inside of her were strong. Stronger than anything else in her life.
Because Cisco was hers. And she loved the man. It fucking terrified her, but she had let fear hold her back for too long. She refused to lose a chance at happiness.
While the table argued, Marisol jumped out of her chair. All eyes turned to her once again, but this time she didn’t care. “I need a few minutes.”
“Honey, please.” Her dad tried to reach for her, but she moved out of his grasp.
“I need a few minutes,” she repeated, voice stronger than before. Her father hesitated but nodded. She didn’t even acknowledge her mother.
Before anyone could say anything else, she grabbed Cisco’s hand and pulled him out of his chair. He eyed her suspiciously but didn’t argue when she led him into the house and straight to the bathroom.