I knew I’d get her with that one. She actually paused from whatever she was looking at on her phone and looked up at me. “You’re playing dirty, but that’s sweet.”
I was going to say some more dumbass shit since so far I was two for two in getting more smiles than side-eye when her phone rang.
She was staring at it, looking a little embarrassed. “You can take it, no worries.”
“Do you mind if I FaceTime my family for a minute? It’s my sister’s birthday.”
That was really fucking cute, as if I needed any more excuses to be into this woman. “Sure, go ahead, I don’t mind.”
Within a few seconds, an explosion of voices speaking over each other in English and Spanish filled the space of my car. I looked over at Julia and saw her face light up at whomever she was looking at on the screen.
“Lita, we’ve been waiting for you, Mami! You know we can’t sing ‘Happy Birthday’ without you.”
She looked so damn happy. “Abuela, it’s like noon here. How come you haven’t sung to her yet?”
I heard the sound of someone clicking their tongue in disgust, and had to press my lips together not to laugh. “You know how your little sister is, she’s still sleeping, but it’s 1:00 p.m., we’re just going to wake her up. Did you get the cosita I sent you?”
From my periphery, I heard a huff that sounded a lot more like affection than exasperation, and saw she was grinning as she shook her head at the screen. “Abue, you and Mami need to stop sending me food and VapoRub. The postal service is going to start wondering what’s wrong with me!”
From the phone I heard a dismissive noise and a younger woman spoke up. “Lita mija, we just want to make sure you can eat like home over there. I talked to Yanel the other day and she said her daughter can find our food where she lives. I wrote down the name of the store for you.”
I was literally holding my breath trying not to laugh, because this was the most adorable conversation I’d ever heard.
When Julia spoke up next, I almost lost it. If someone could actually speak ineye roll, it was Julia. “Abue, Yanel’s daughter is in San Antonio. That’s really far from Dallas. I don’t knowwhyI told you guys I couldn’t find guandules here. You’d think I’d said I couldn’t find water.”
The sounds coming from the phone confirmed that for her mom and grandma, lack of guandules was right up there with lethal levels of dehydration.
Julia was not having it though. “Okay, guys, let’s do this. I’m in a car with a friend going to a ball game, so I can’t be on the phone too long.”
Another voice all of a sudden broke out. This time it was a male. “Mija, you’re getting out there and making friends, that’s good. Who is it? What’s her name?”
Julia turned her head toward me and I winked at her, not sure why she was asking me for permission.
“He’s a friend from work. He’s from Queens.”
A lot of cooing and shouting ensued after, which all sounded positive, if extremely loud. My mom was Italian and my dad Irish, so I had not exactly grown up in a quiet household, but there had definitely not been this level of excitement.
“Is he Boricua?” Seems like Mom was back again, and yeah, witnessing this side of Julia was not going to make keeping my distance any easier.
She cleared her throat before answering, and I could feel the weight of her stare for a long time before she answered. “No, Ma,” she said, barely containing a laugh. “Not every person in Queens is Puerto Rican or Dominican.”
Another voice came on the phone. This time it was the man who I assumed was Dad. “Is he the Mets fan? Pobre pendejo.”
“Papi! Oh my God. You do the most,” she said, laughing again.
I didn’t miss that she’d at least mentioned me to her dad. Even though the information she provided did result in me being mocked in Spanish.
“Hey, I really need to go soon, so let’s sing cumple to Paula.” She sounded a little flustered and looked over at me as if worried that I’d understood. I wasn’t sure how I would break it to her that my Spanish was pretty damn good.
I heard some more shuffling sounds from the phone, then lots of whispering, and before I knew it Julia was belting out the Spanish version of “Happy Birthday” at the top of her lungs while I drove us into Arlington.
As I listened to her sing her heart out to her sister back in New York, I wondered if I’d ever been around anyone this free. Feeling a part of that moment, being there to see it, made me want so much.
I came back from my stormy thoughts when Julia waved her hand in my peripheral vision.
“Hey, sorry. I got distracted.”
“No worries. I was just apologizing for how loud they got. My parents and my grandma only have one volume setting, and it’s loud.”
