“Really, who?”
“My fake wife, Belen and her sister,” I teased.
“So you two are smashing?”
My eyebrows mashed together. “Who is teaching you this terminology?”
She ignored my question, countering with a thought of her own. “I don’t think you’ve ever brought a woman home with you for Christmas. Not even when you were dating that Claudia person.”
“That’s because Claudia liked spending the holidays on the beach.”
“She thought she was better than us.”
“No she didn’t.”
“She hated Ottawa. Kept calling it quaint.”
“Ottawa is quaint.”
“You don’t think I know what that’s code for? Hopefully Baylen has more sense.”
“Her name is Ba-len.”
“So tell me about the girl. Do you expect me to meet your girlfriend and not get the 411?”
“Once again she’s not my girlfriend.”
“But you’re hoping she’s interested.”
“I just don’t want her to be alone for Christmas.”
“Why would she be alone?”
For the next twenty minutes, I told my mother all about Belen. Almost gushing while trying to convey how amazing she was. I sounded like one of those obsessed fans who thinks their favorite celebrity was the first to ever do anything. But in my opinion Belen was that extraordinary. I was impressed with her creativity, the way she could transform a space and craft an immersive experience. She was a nurturer, taking care of her sister. And her sense of humor was in tune with mine. I found myself laughing at the way she made even the mundane retelling of events a spectacle.
Belen was also someone who was dealt enormous responsibility at a young age. It was obvious her needs often took a backseat to others. Even though it had only been a few weeks, I was more than willing to step up and help her carry her load. Belen didn’t need my help because clearly, she was getting by, but she deserved more than just getting by. She deserved to be catered to. My mom just allowed me to drool over this woman. When I finally paused for a breath, I felt a bit embarrassed for sharing so much.
“Sounds like you might be smitten.”
I didn’t want to confirm that, so I shifted gears. “I know it’s short notice but we can stay in a hotel?—”
“Don’t be silly, you’ll stay with us. It’s Christmas and family should be together.”
“Are you sure? Because I don’t want you going to any extra trouble.”
“We’ll make it work. Plus, your sister will be happy to have women close in age to talk to.”
I was happy to hear my mom agree to take us in, because finding a hotel this close to Christmas would be next to impossible. But not as difficult as getting Belen to agree to come with me.
Belen
Celeste was in the back seat of Kris’s SUV, talking his head off. Even after his generous invitation, I was reluctant to bring her with me only because I knew how quickly she attached herself to people and when they stopped showing up, she took it personally. And after what happened with Aiden, it felt too soon to introduce some new potential love interest.
Before Kris picked us up, Celeste and I had a pep talk. I let her know Kris was only a friend and that after the holidays, we may not see him as much. My goal was to alleviate the inevitable questions that would follow when it was decided this relationship had run its course.
“So how often do you go to the community center?” Kris asked.
“Every day except Friday, we are learning about independent living.”
