Chapter Seventeen #3
After supper had concluded and the tables had been cleared and the kitchen cleaned, the real Nochebuena celebration began.
My cousin Roman connected his phone to the speaker, proclaiming himself the deejay for the night.
Soon I was bobbing my head to an eclectic mix of Bad Bunny, Karol G, Maluma, and Motown hits from the Four Tops and the Drifters.
Papí pulled out a forty-eight card deck, and Tío Alejandro, Javi, and Alex joined him to play a game of pinochle.
When Alex confessed he had never played the game before, the other men laughed, and their good-natured jests were loud and boisterous.
My gaze returned to the sight of Alex’s dimple, and I soaked in his deep, throaty laugh again and again.
“Nena, are you sure that man is only a friend?”
I yanked back my head, my gaze colliding with Tití Sara’s. A quick glance around the table showed my mother, Olivia, Paola, Andrea, and Gianna staring back at me with their brows raised. Although none of them voiced it, it was obvious they wanted to know the answer, too.
Picking up my glass, I spun my mojito about so forcefully an ice cube fell out onto the table. “Alex and I are just friends. Did you forget he’s dating Caitlin?”
Olivia crinkled her nose. “But are they dating? I take no pleasure in agreeing with Javi, but why wouldn’t he want to spend Christmas with her?”
“I don’t know,” I murmured. And I didn’t want to know. I hadn’t asked because I was happy Alex was spending the holiday with me, and that was good enough.
“That boy doesn’t look at you like a friend.”
“I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean.” I shot Mamí a glare.
My mother’s answering snort made me grind my teeth. “It means that he looks at you with hearts in his eyes.”
“Ay, Mamí, don’t exaggerate,” I grumbled, even as my chest was so tight it threatened to crack open. “I promise we’re just friends. And because Alex is determined to connect with his boricua roots, I’m a great friend to have, because look at all of you,” I added with a chuckle.
No one laughed with me.
The refreshingly sweet-and-sour mojito slipped down my throat as I took a sip, and I tried again.
“He’s dating Caitlin. Have you met her?” Tití Sara and my cousins shook their heads.
“Well, she’s beautiful. All golden-blond hair, aquamarine eyes, and legs for days.
And she’s super successful and accomplished.
” I sat my glass on the table harder than I intended.
“And she’s funny and kind and thoughtful, and Alex is lucky to be with such an amazing woman. ”
Gianna snorted. “And? You’re beautiful, too. And smart and funny—”
“Most of the time,” Andrea interjected with a smirk.
“Is this the one you told me about years ago?” Tití Sara shifted toward my mother, her brows stitched together. “The one that boy she dated was trying to get close to?”
Mortification heated me from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes when Mamí nodded in affirmation. “What a pendejo. Sofia is much better off without him.”
She was right, of course, but God, did I hate to think about Kyle, more than a decade after the fact.
He had been prelaw and a member of the men’s swimming team, with those lovely broad swimmer’s shoulders.
We met at the gym, and after exchanging chitchat for the better part of a week, I’d been thrilled when he asked me out.
For three months we dated, and I really liked him…
so I was devastated when I borrowed his iPad one afternoon and stumbled across a conversation between him and a teammate.
A conversation in which Kyle bragged that if he played his cards right, he’d be in bed with Caitlin in no time.
I was no stranger to being overlooked for my stunning friend, through no fault of her own, but it had cut to the quick to discover that someone I thought cared for me—me—had been angling for my friend the whole time.
It hadn’t occurred to me until just that moment that it was possible I’d been scarred by that ill-fated relationship with Kyle. The possibility that I had let that loser tarnish how I viewed myself in correlation to Caitlin was embarrassing.
“He was a pendejo, which is why it’s pointless to discuss him now.” I shrugged, attempting to infuse as much blitheness into the gesture as I could. “But I appreciate your loyalty.”
“Well,” Andrea began, leaning into the silence that followed my words, “if you’re not interested in Alex, I am.
” While the ladies at the table laughed or balked at this pronouncement, Andrea fixed her gaze on the table where the men continued to play pinochle.
“I just turned eighteen, and I’m ready to experience being with a real man. ”
“ ‘Experience being with a real man’?” Tití Sara repeated, her voice high and her eyes owlish. “Ay, nena, you’re going to be the death of me.”
The rest of the night was full of laughter, rapid-fire Spanish, bickering, and so many wildly flailing hand gestures they could generate enough energy to power a small city. Midnight came faster than I expected, and it was Alex who wished me a merry Christmas first, enfolding me in a giant hug.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” I murmured against his cheek.
“There’s no other place I’d rather be.” Alex angled back to meet my eyes. “I hope you know—”
“Feliz Navidad, mi hijita!”
Alex released me and I pivoted to my mother to receive her embrace. After I exchanged well wishes with the rest of the family, I looked for Alex, finding him helping my mother sort and hand out presents from under the tree.
When the room was littered with torn wrapping paper, crumpled gift boxes, and a confetti of bows and ribbon, I sat back with a sigh.
My parents had gifted me with a plane ticket to Puerto Rico for next summer, as well as a yearly subscription to the Journal of Women’s History, which I’m sure was Mamí’s idea as she was tired of me asking to use her login information.
Javi and Olivia gave me several books from my to-be-read list and a gift card to an independent bookstore in Tempe that I loved.
One person I didn’t receive a gift from was Alex, and I was glad I hadn’t put my gift to him under the tree. I hoped I would have an opportunity to give it to him privately, but if he hadn’t gotten me one, I would save myself the embarrassment. The idea that he had forgotten me stung just a little.
“Sofia,” he said, suddenly at my side and gently grasping my elbow. “I accidentally left your present in my hotel room. I’m sorry.”
Relief flooded over me, cool and sweet. “That’s okay.”
Alex immediately shook his head. “No. I can’t believe I did that. Maybe after this all dies down and everyone heads to bed, you can come with me to go get it.”
Oh. I cleared my throat. “Sure. That works.”
He squeezed my arm. “Good.”
So in the early hours of the morning, after my tío, tití, and cousins had departed for their hotel, promising to return on Christmas mid-morning, and Mamí, Papí, and Olivia had long gone to bed, Alex approached, his car keys in hand.
“?Listo?”
“Sí.” I briefly slipped into my room to grab my coat and his gift, which I shoved into my coat pocket. Alex waited for me by the front door, but I paused near the chair where Javi appeared to be reading his medical journal again.
“Alex forgot something at the hotel, so we’ll be back.”
Javi’s arched brow was so sharp it could cut glass. “Text me if you need me to come get you. No matter the time. ?Comprende?”
The backs of my eyes burned, but I managed a nod. “Thank you.”
And I turned to follow Alex into the darkness.