28. Si Tu Supieras
SI TU SUPIERAS
Alejandro
My earliest memory is of my father bringing Diego home.
Mom used to tell me I was too young to recall something like that and it must’ve been my imagination but I remember it clear as day.
I remember the blanket he was wrapped in—pale blue with faded yellow stars—and the weight of his little body in my arms. I remember thinking how strange it was to hold a trembling infant, as if he too was afraid of meeting me.
Mom sat me down on the sofa in our new penthouse in New York and told me I had a little brother now and we were going to love each other forever.
He was small, too small for being almost three months old. Brown skin, soft wisps of black hair, and big eyes which were surprisingly alert. They were as blue then as they are now, the color having never changed.
When I think of my brother, it’s never as he is now.
I see him as a toddler trotting around our home in New York on chubby legs and as a young boy with missing teeth at our aunt’s house in Mexico trying to ride a bike.
I see him older, gangly and growing, on the saddle of a horse at our family compound in Colombia, terrified of the beast he’s mounted but determined to ride.
I move through memories of who he was when our father died, not a boy but not yet a man, and who he’s grown into in the years since.
Allegra sits on his lap as Lettie puts a hideous cone-shaped Birthday Boy hat on his head. She laughs and he complains and when she leans down to kiss his cheek I see her in a different light.
All the roundness of youth is gone from her face and her voice has deepened from a high, childlike pitch to a smooth, steady rhythm.
She wears a white blouse with sleeves that fall off her shoulders and a soft satin skirt that drapes over her figure.
She’s taller than I remember or maybe my eyes are playing tricks on me.
From this distance and in those heels, she looks older than she is, older than the image of her in my mind.
When she tilts her head and smiles it reveals the structured planes of her elegant face and a resemblance to our mother I often find uncanny.
She can look so much like her in certain lights.
Diego and Lettie were the first children I ever had, the first ones I raised. How could so many years have gone by and I’m only now noticing?
“Are we late for the cake cutting?” Mauricio says, announcing his arrival. “I heard it was tres leches.”
Karina cuts him a look as she enters the room with a stack of plates in hand, the blunt ends of her thick hair swishing over her shoulders. “Is that all you came here for?”
“Well obviously,” Mauricio replies. “It certainly wasn’t because I care it’s his birthday.”
“Shut up, Mauricio,” Beni comes up from behind him and playfully knocks into his shoulder.
Mauricio’s ankle twists and he grabs the nearby credenza to steady himself as Beni barrels into the room with a large white box in hand.
He approaches Dahlia who’s tying balloons to the backs of the dining room chairs.
“Dahlia, querida, the cake you requested.”
“Beni, stop flirting with my wife.” I say.
Dahlia smiles and takes the box from his hands then kisses the top of his head. “My hero.”
Beni turns and gives me a smug smile.
“Benito.” I warn.
“He’s jealous of our love, Dee,” He follows her around the dining room and watches as she sets the box down on the opposite end of the table. “He wants to get between us.”
“Ya lo sé, papito, no le hagas caso.” She squeezes his face affectionately. “Go get me a knife so I can open this.”
I pick up a knife from one of the serving trays Dona Ana sets down and Beni spins on the balls of his feet, heading in my direction. I extend the knife, blade out, and he trips over himself to avoid plunging the pointed end into his chest.
“Alex!” Dahlia chastises. “Play nice.”
“I am playing nice.” I thrust the knife forward and Beni jumps back. “Here.”
Beni seeks refuge behind Lettie as she passes by. “Hey!” she whines in protest.
“He’s jealous because I’m the only pretty one here.” Beni dodges my pursuit by using Lettie as a shield. “Even his grandmother used to say so. ‘Ay, ese Beni, que lindo está—’”
Dahlia walks over and takes the knife from my hand. “I’d like to cut the cake today, please.”
She turns around and I smack her backside as she walks away. Dahlia yelps and Diego lifts a hand to cover Allegra’s eyes.
“Do you mind?” he says. “My child’s innocence doesn’t need to be compromised.”
Dimitrio enters the room holding up a box of candles. “Are we really going to count out thirty-two of these? We’ll be here until the next birthday.”
Karina comes up from behind him and snatches the box. “Give me that. I sent you to the store to buy a three and a two not individual candles!”
“They didn’t have a three and a two, just a four and a two.”
“I wouldn’t mind being twenty-four,” Diego muses aloud.
“Or forty-two.” Lettie plops down into the chair next to him, leaving Beni unprotected. “You look old enough.”
He lifts a hand to his chest. “Why do you wound me?”
Beni’s phone rings and he digs it out of his pocket. After glancing at the screen he decides to take the call in another room. On his way out, I extend my leg and he trips over my foot. I bite back a smile and look over to find Dahlia shaking her head, having witnessed the whole thing.
Once the cake box is open and dismantled, Dahlia helps Dona Ana set out a number of plates and forks while Karina uses the candles to teach Allegra how to count in English and Spanish.
For as long as I can remember, a cake cutting has always been tradition in our family.
No matter where we were, the time of year, or the day of the week, our parents always made sure to cut us a cake on the morning of our birthdays.
Sugar in lieu of breakfast is a sacred Narvaez tradition and one Allegra loves.
Parties are reserved for the evenings or weekends but Diego’s never been one to enjoy the celebration of his birth.
In fact, until his daughter was born, he actively hated it—especially after our father died.
Allegra has given new meaning to the day and now he celebrates more for her sake than his own.
Later, we’ll go to Abuelo’s for a more formal dinner.
Lettie pulls out the family album from the bottom cupboard of the China closet.
We started a new one when Allegra was born and have been collecting photos in it ever since.
Photos from every holiday, birthday, and special occasion over the last few years fills the pages.
The most recent addition is from this spring during Dahlia’s hooding ceremony.
We’ll have to add a wedding photo and a photo from her birthday last month sometime soon.
How she managed to plan a wedding and successfully complete her doctorate within the span of a few months is incomprehensible to me.
She’s nothing short of a miracle; determined and with a work ethic I have always deeply admired.
“Has anyone seen Dad’s camera?” Lettie asks aloud.
Everyone stops to take a look around and I wonder briefly if it’s in my office when Mauricio holds it up and brings it over.
“It was by the credenza.” He sits down beside Lettie and smiles. “Here you go.”
Her eyes widen as she takes the camera from him. “No one said you could sit here.”
“Can I?”
“No.”
He remains seated and looks over her shoulder, glancing at each picture as she turns the page.
Dad’s camera is nearly as old as I am and we’ll eventually have to replace it.
As time passes, it gets harder and harder to find the film needed to take a photo, especially since polaroids are mostly obsolete.
But I think we’ll hold on to this piece of him for just a little bit longer.
I join Dahlia and Dona Ana in setting the table while Dimitrio and Beni finish decorating. The balloons and streamers are for Allegra’s entertainment only. She delights in all the excitement and fanfare.
Karina sits back to watch Allegra put the final candles on the cake. She places her hand on Diego’s and gifts him a rare smile.
“What do you want to do today?”
Diego’s gaze remains focused on Allegra, keeping one arm around her so that when she leans forward, she doesn’t lose her balance and fall face first into the cake. “We’re going to Abuelo’s for dinner later.”
“I know. I mean in the meantime.” She tilts her head and the edges of her voice soften with a tenderness I’ve only ever heard her use with him. “We can take a walk through the Quarter and head down to the beach later. Then go to a museum or—”
“I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.” His tone remains neutral. “I’m sure you’ll be busy with work.”
“Don’t be silly, I canceled all my classes today.” She responds eagerly and her grip on his hand tightens. That hand hasn’t moved an inch since she touched it. “Lela and I are completely free.”
“I have a lot of work to do.” Diego finally manages to pull away and readjusts Allegra on his lap. “Don’t trouble yourself.”
I touch Dahlia’s hip and she looks up from the plate she was setting. I jut my chin in their direction and Dahlia casts a glance at the scene unfolding on the other side of the table.
Karina’s hand stills and for a split second, it’s as if she waits for him to return it to her. Arched brows furrowed, she pulls away as well, her confusion evident in the high-pitched lilt of her voice.
“But…we always spend your birthday together. It’s tradition.
” Her expression falters but Allegra, sensing the shift between her parents, suddenly loses interest in the candles and looks at her mother.
Karina’s shoulders straighten immediately and she forces the smile back on to her face. “I can get us tickets to—”
“Why don’t you see if Jeremy is free this afternoon? That way I can enjoy my birthday with my daughter in peace.”
All noise in the room ceases.