“Consuela, really?” It’s the necklace I’ve always loved, the one she’d never let me borrow.
“Really. I want you to have it.”
“Okay, what’s up? Something’s going on.”
Her eyes travel over me, and they glaze. “My little sister is growing up.” Then, she threads our fingers together and walks down the stairs with me.
I can hear a lot of voices. My Tia Maria’s voice is loud, my uncle Tony’s laughter, the sounds of children.
When we get to the bottom of the stairs, Consuela leads me into the living room, and there, standing in the middle of the room in a black suit, is Mateo. The room is filled with people, and I see his parents and his brothers are even here.
Suddenly my sister backs away, and all eyes in the room are on me.
Mateo smiles. “You look beautiful, Luisa.”
What. Is. Happening?
Then Mateo digs in his slacks pocket and drops to one knee, holding out a ring box.
My hand slaps over my mouth, and my stomach churns.
Don’t be sick. Don’t be sick. Please God, don’t let me be sick.
“Luisa, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” He pops open the box, revealing a gorgeous ring sparkling from a velvet lining.
Everyone in the room is staring at me. My mother, my father, my sister, aunts, uncles, cousins.
I feel faint and sway. My father and uncle catch me before I slide to the floor.
The room spins, and everything is a blur. The next thing I know, I’m sitting in a velvet over-stuffed armchair, and there’s a ring on my finger. I don’t even remember saying yes.
I must have. Everyone is smiling and laughing.
My mother looks concerned, and my sister kneels at my side.
“Champagne,” someone calls out. “We need champagne.”
“Are you okay, Luisa?” Mateo asks softly.
I nod. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. The room started spinning.”
“She’s overwhelmed by such a beautiful ring and the man she’s going to marry,” my father says. “She’ll be okay.” He pats my mother’s shoulders.
Consuela fans my face. “Perhaps some water.”
A moment later, her husband appears at her shoulder with a glass, and she passes it to me. “You’re probably dehydrated. I’m sure that’s it.”
My eyes connect with hers, and something passes between us, and suddenly I feel like she knows.
How could she?
My eyes drop to her stomach, and she rubs a palm over it. Does she know because she’s pregnant, too?
Oh, God. “I need some air.”
“Of course, baby girl,” she whispers, then turns. “Mateo, take her out to the porch for some air.”
He pulls me to my feet, and I slip my hand onto his arm.
