Chapter 19- Noche Buena
Christmas was fantastic, of course, but for Cubans it was all about Christmas Eve, or Noche Buena, as they called it. It was an all-day event; family filtered in and out while a whole pig, or lechón, roasted all day in a makeshift outdoor oven.
Lizzie can still remember when she was younger: every Noche Buena, her grandfather would sit out by the pig, monitoring the cooking all day in a lawn chair with a cooler of beer.
Her Tíos and cousins all congregated around him to give their insight on how it was going.
Children would go peek at the pig’s head, the bravest daring to touch its snout or hooves.
Abuela was always inside, working on side dishes like twice-fried plantains called tostones or boniato, the Cuban sweet potato.
The cafetera was on a constant cycle: brew, pour, enjoy, repeat.
Lizzie’s Tias sitting at the counter, gossiping about the holidays or complaining about how much the men were drinking.
Lizzie had sent in her final report yesterday. She had hoped that perhaps Will would respond. Give her some feedback; Maybe even a goodbye message. But nothing. She even checked her email once more this morning. Crickets.
After the victory over George Wick, she felt that it would be selfish to now pout about not getting everything she wanted. So she decided right then and there not to let it get her down on her favorite of all holidays.
She showered and dressed in one of her favorite dresses; She’d gone full fire-engine red, the kind of dress that looked innocent from the front and illegal from the back.
The fabric was a soft, stretchy jersey that hugged every curve like it had been sewn onto her body: deep V-neckline that stopped just shy of scandalous, three-quarter sleeves that made her arms look soft and strong at the same time, and a wrap front that cinched tight at the waist before flaring into a skirt that hit mid-calf and moved like liquid every time she breathed.
The color turned her skin golden, made her dark curls look like midnight, and turned the gold sandals on her feet into actual weapons.
Simple gold hoops, red lips, and a gold bangle on her delicate wrist—just enough to remind everyone she was still Miami.
This was it; she was ready to face the world, face the family, face the questions on why she wasn’t settled down yet, and the glazed-over looks whenever someone asked about her work, but then lost interest about five minutes into her explaining it.
She felt bold, confident, and ready to celebrate the night ahead.
Lizzie, as expected, ran into Abuela and her Tias in the kitchen first. Her Tia Maria literally screamed at the sight of her. “You look so beautiful! I thought you were a ghost!”
Lizzie tilted her head to the side, confused by the comparison. “Thanks, I think?” Hugs and kisses all around, and then she offered Abuela some help.
“No, I have everything under control.” Then, looking at her phone, she added, “Oh, can you do me a favor, and bring me some mint from the plant out front for Mojitos?”
“Oh, I think I have some in the fridge I picked the other day, it’s…”
“No, chica!” She said, swatting her away from the fridge. “I need fresh!”
Lizzie put her hands up and backed away, “ok ok, I’ll get it.”
Out front, Lizzie walked past all the cars parked out front and headed towards their little herb garden. She turned at the sound of glass breaking.
Will stood about 10 feet away, in a crisp white guayabera, linen pants rolled at the ankle, and a bottle of wine shattered at his feet, the dark red wine spreading across the gravel like spilled secrets.
“Will?” Her voice came out smaller than she meant, as if she weren’t sure he was real.
That seemed to break the spell as he blinked and looked down at the mess he’d made. “Shit!” He said. “I have more,” he indicated to the broken bottle.
“What are you doing here?”
Will’s face went scarlet. “Your Abuela invited me.”
“Of course she did,” Lizzie muttered.
He took a few steps towards her. He was close enough that she could smell cedar and clean linen. “Is it… okay that I’m here?” He actually sounded nervous.
“Yes! God, yes.” She took a step closer, words tumbling out before she could stop them. “I’ve been practicing what to say to you for two weeks, and it all sounded insane in my head and—”
Will shook his head fast. “Don’t. Please. You don’t owe me anything. Can we just… not do the apology tour? I’d rather pretend the last month of my life wasn’t complete torture and enjoy the fact you’re standing here in that dress.”
Lizzie’s mouth opened. Closed.
He stepped closer, voice dropping. “Because Lizzie, you in that dress is doing things to me that would probably get me banned from La Misa del Gallo.”
Misa del Gallo, or the Rooster’s Mass, what many Cuban’s called Midnight Mass, although for many it was just an excuse to make a lot of noise at midnight and kick off the official start of Christmas
Her laugh came out shaky. “We have hours still before that!”
“Thank God for that.”
Now it was Lizzie’s turn to blush scarlet. She didn’t know what to say. She just smiled. Somewhere inside, someone started playing “Obsesión.” Will swallowed hard. “We should probably go in before Abuela sends a search party.”
Lizzie laughed, shaky. “Yeah. Before she decides, we need more mint.”
Neither moved right away. The music from the house seemed to envelop them, and both seemed hesitant to ruin the moment.
Then Will offered his arm to her. Formal. Old-fashioned. As if this was the only way he trusted himself to touch her. Lizzie took it. He was warm and steady, and together they walked towards the house.
Lizzie didn’t want to give her Abuela the immediate satisfaction of watching her walk in with Will, and she couldn’t be sure that she wasn’t going to be standing inside with a camera ready to capture the moment, so she decided to circle around the house to the backyard.
Lizzie regretted her decision almost as soon as she turned the corner; Lidia sat on the table part of the picnic table wearing a velvet-looking, green short, romper, and heels that made her legs look 10 feet long, her arms toned and feminine, and her skin had an effervescent glow.
Lizzie never compared herself to her sister’s appearance.
She never felt a need to compete with her on their looks, but now, with the stakes of Will’s attention feeling as high as they did to Lizzie, she wished she possessed some of Lidia’s glamour.
Lidia was laughing easily with her group of admirers who had gathered around her, but stopped and sat up straight when she saw Lizzie and Will. “Look, it’s Lizzie and her man,” she said with a playful smile.
“Not man,” Lizzie said and then quickly added, “I mean, he’s a man, but he’s not my man. He’s my…” friend? Boss? Ex-boss? Enemy turned secret obsession? “Guest.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound too serious,” Lidia said, leaning forward and batting her eyes at Will.
Lizzie could feel a knot forming in her stomach. “Maybe not to you, but I worked hard to get that title, and I plan to earn my next one.” Will smiled at Lizzie, and the knot turned to butterflies.
Lidia could tell when she had no chance, and she leaned back with a comment of “aww, that’s sweet.” She was quickly back with her adoring group.
“Come on,” Lizzie said, motioning to the back door. “And prepare yourself; Abuela is at full matriarchal power when she has my Tias around.”
Will smiled wider. “Can’t wait.”
As Lizzie suspected, Abuela was expecting them through the front and wasn’t prepared to document it when they came in through the back. Abuela was disappointed but also felt the need to play it off as if she didn’t orchestrate this whole thing.
“Glad you were finally able to find your way back inside,” Abuela said.
Lizzie waved the mint around. “Did you want me to make the mojitos?”
“Mojitos? ?A esta hora?! What is it like 1? A little early for rum, no?”
Lizzie rolled her eyes, annoyed that Abuela was still avoiding responsibility for this.
“How about some Cafe?” Will said, and all of the women in the room looked at him.
“Sure,” Lizzie said, shrugging. Abuela gestured towards the cafetera. The way Abuela and the Tias watched Will make colada, you would’ve thought he was doing a striptease instead of stirring espresso and sugar.
He handed out the coladas to those who wanted and was met with reactions of mmm and rico, as if this was their first colada ever, when it wasn’t even their first colada today. Abuela was particularly exaggerated, smacking her lips and saying, “Mmm que sabroso! How did you get so good?”
“Well, I had a lot of practice,” Will said, and then, making eye contact with Lizzie, added, “especially while Lizzie was working inventory.”
Lizzie froze, realization dawning on her. “The coffee? All those nights? You made that for me every night?”
Will nodded. “I even prayed over the sugar,” he added with a wink.
Lizzie thought she could feel her heart physically swelling in her chest. “I thought it tasted particularly fortified. Thank you. That was super nice of you.”
“Would’ve been nicer if I had given it to you in person instead of just leaving it to save my pride.”
“It wouldn’t have been damaged if I hadn’t been so insulting in the first place.” Lizzie retorted.
“Que es esto, las olimpiadas de quien come mas mierda?” Abuela asked. (What is this The-who-is-the-bigger-dummy Olympics?)
“Eso ya pasó. That’s in the past, go have fun. Be young. Have a cervezita,” Abuela pushed Will towards Lizzie and gestured to the back yard.
Lizzie looked up at Will, who was now just a few inches from her face. “Can I interest you in a little beer?”
“That depends,” Will said. “Does it come with some ‘Fun’?”
Lizzie smiled, grabbing the handle for the back door. “Oh, I think you’ll enjoy yourself,” Lizzie said coyly.
Will looked at her like he was already picturing exactly how much fun they could have together, and exactly how little clothing would be involved.