“Gabriela!” they yelled angrily in unison.
“Lord, forgive me for I have accidentally sinned by stumbling upon the most vomit-inducing scene!” I exclaimed, my voice booming. Blood pumped through my veins furiously as I stomped down the hallway. “Where’s the bleach in this house? I need to forget ever having witnessed this immoral, extramarital act that will leave me scarred forever!”
I all but ran to the kitchen with Luna hot on my heels, fighting the urge to gag.
I was going to be sick.
God, please, just take me. Right now. I’m not one of your strongest soldiers. I don’t think I can ever come back from this.
But God had other plans for me, so my only solution was uncorking the wine bottle I bought and pouring myself a healthy amount.
My cat meowed by my feet, eyes wide. She was judging her grandparents too.
“I know, Luna, I’m just as disgusted as you.” My hand shook as I brought the wineglass to my mouth for a sip.
I hadn’t even swallowed when the two culprits hastened down the stairs, their faces flushed. Mamma wore a silk robe in a hurry and Papà a pair of inside-out linen pants.
“Gabriela,per favore,” Mamma cried, entering the kitchen. “It’s not what it looks like!”
“It’s exactly what it looks like,” Papà retaliated, shooting Mamma a mild glare. At least he had the decency to send me a half-assed apologetic expression. “But we are sorry you saw that,cara mia.”
“Apologize to your grandchild too.”
Luna squared up, giving them the full force of her haughty gaze.
I tapped my foot impatiently.
Papà rolled his eyes and palmed his forehead. Mamma felt guilty enough to say, “We’re sorry you saw that, Luna. There. Happy?”
Luna hissed.
And I was far from happy. Disturbed and wholly grossed-out was more like it.
In all the years that we lived together, I’d never once caught my parents in the act. In fact, most days I pretended that I was dropped on their doorstep via pelican and that was my birth story.
I took another sip of the wine to wash down the bad taste in my mouth, watching my parents over the rim of the glass. They squirmed, embarrassed.
The tension in the kitchen was so thick, you could slice it with a knife.
“What are you doing here anyways?” Mamma huffed, patting a hand over her disheveled hair. “You weren’t supposed to arrive for another two hours.”
“Oh, so it’s my fault that I arrived early?” I threw back at her reprimanding tone. “Mamma, I texted you! But clearly y-you both were busy doing—ugh!” I narrowed my eyes and waggled a finger between them. “How long has this been going on? Explain yourselves.”
Suddenly, no one could meet my accusatory stare.
The puzzle pieces finally clicked into position and I had a light-bulb moment.
Oh my God.
“This…This never stopped, did it?” Shocked, I shook my head. “All this time, you’ve both claimed to hate each other, and yet…”
In between all of Mamma’s failed relationships, she and Papà never stopped being together. Not in the physical sense. Despite being divorced, it was obvious they fell back into their old habits like nothing had changed. They were still each other’s one true match, no matter how dysfunctional. Even after twenty-plus years, their love never died. It was obvious they were still crazy for one another.
Deciding to be the adult in this situation, I swiped Mamma’s car keys from the kitchen counter. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”
They both exchanged a concerned glance.
Papà asked, “Go where?”
