“Bueno,” was all she said.
“¿Perdón?” I replied in shock. While my mom and I talk in English, we fight in Spanish, and I was gearing up for an all-out battle of words.
“Las niñas necesitan a su papá.”
Rolling my eyes, my sense of self-preservation shot up. “No, they do not need their father. I’ve been doing it all just fine the past two years.”
Gloria took my words into consideration with another round of tense silence. She had to admit the girls are healthy and thriving in school, and while we don’t have much money or time for the extras in life, Coco and Lou are never short on love.
“Mija, there is no substitute for a father. It’s best Simon is back. For everyone.” There it was. Falling back on that tired cultural patriarchy, my mother wants me to sweep Simon’s selfish behavior under the rug. There was no misinterpreting Gloria’s sentiments that we all needed Simon.
“Don’t doubt me, mi amor. You’ll see I’m right,” my mom stated, summing up her thoughts on my current marital affairs. In response, all she saw of me was my back as I stomped out her front door.
Pick up, pick up, pick up.From the privacy of my bedroom, I will Zwena to find her phone.
“Enjoy your pulled pork sandwich, it’s one of my favorites.” Zwena doesn’t eat pork. “And be sure to stop by again next time you’re in San Francisco.” I cannot even begin to estimate how many times I have heard Zwena call out that line after a male customer who, she assumes, is hungry in more ways than one.
“Are you regretting dinner with Simon before you even sit down?” Zwena muffles without so much as ahello.
“Bring the phone closer to you, Z, I can barely make out what you’re saying.”
“I can’t pick it up,” Zwena articulates louder. “I have on latex serving gloves. They’re the last pair here, and they need to survive until the end of my shift. I think Peter or Jose have stolen the backup box to make water balloons, and now I can’t mix phone germs with the garlic fries.” I hear the metal scooper scraping the bottom of the fryer basket.
“Forget it, I’m calling Krish.”
“He’s working an engagement party at the Four Seasons, some billionaire on his fourth wife,” Zwena’s yelling continues after taking another customer’s order. “He went over a little early to take advantage of the prime rib and crab stations. He goes on in an hour. I will talk to you later.”
As the mother figure in our threesome, I’m used to being the one who keeps track of everyone’s comings and goings. Zwena is usually only interested on a need-to-know-because-it-will-make-my-life-better basis. Her awareness of Krish’s whereabouts momentarily throws me off our triangular social equilibrium.
I hear Simon open the front door for my mom. I roll off my mattress to scrunch onto the floor between my bed and the wall where no one can see me, and most importantly, no one can hear me.
“Dinner in five!” Simon bellows as if my house is huge and the sound needs to carry far. I faintly hear my mother give herisn’t it great to have a man back in chargegiggle even though absolutely nothing in Simon’s directive is remotely funny.
“Krish?” I whisper when he picks up on the first ring. I can hear a boisterous crowd behind him and, according to Zwena, he hasn’t even started spinning. Knowing Krish, his body is vibrating in anticipation of stepping behind his turntables to do the thing he loves most in the world. I’m so swept up in his hype I temporarily forget why I called.
“You okay, Toni?” Krish asks loudly when I don’t speak up immediately. He’s likely pressing one ear against the phone with his finger plugging the other so he can hear.
“I’m good, I’m good,” I stutter, but then I pause again.
“Toni?”
“Do you think I should try out for the showInnovation Nationwith Brown Butter, Baby!?”
“Whoa. That’s out of left field. Hold on.” I hear Krish shuffling through the crowd to find someplace semiprivate.
“There. Okay,” Krish exhales. In the minute it takes for him to find a quiet spot, I realize how ridiculous my question is. “You want to try out forInnovation Nation? Like, the show?”
“Never mind. It was stupid.”
“Maybe not, something gave you the idea.” Krish actually sounds encouraging, and he wears the title of Mr. Cautious out of the three of us.
“Ash Eisenberg is going to replace Dwayne Washington as a judge on the new season. He’s the—”
“Hot grandson!” Krish interrupts. Apparently, he does listen when Zwena and I yammer on about nonsense and we think he’s wrapped up in Wordle.
“I think you have two choices here, Toni.”
Oh, I like choices.Krish is really good at thinking things through and coming up with reasonable options and outcomes.
