Ever since I can remember,we’ve celebrated Thanksgiving at Gran’s, my mom’s mom, who, besides making traditional turkey, gravy, and stuffing dishes, also cooks Puerto Rican food, which I take back with me to Vermont. This year is different. My parents went to Gran’s without me.
I’m with Ludi in Chicago. In Ludi’s cousin’s mansion on the bay, beside a fireplace lined with pictures of Ludi’s family, I sit on the most comfortable black leather couch I’ve ever sat on, with his sister, Ivana, sipping the god-awful drink called rakija that reminds me of moonshine. Ivana is on her second shot, and watching her gulp it in one go makes me nauseous.
Her piercing gray eyes, so different from Ludi’s warm brown ones, lock with mine.
“Are you pregnant?” she asks.
“Oh,” I say and sit up, shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t think so.” From what little I’ve gathered of her, she’s blunt and cold, and I can’t say I’d ever met a woman like her. Her perfect model-like body, clad in a tight red dress, and the long straightplatinum-blonde hair she wears high up in a bun make her intimidating.
She purses her lips. “Then why aren’t you drinking?”
I down that rakija in one gulp and start hacking immediately.
She hands me a glass of water, and as I accept, she places her perfectly manicured hand over mine. “I like you, Isla, and I never had a sister or another girl around here. I look forward to your moving to Chicago and settling in with us, and I’ll have you know I’ll do everything in my power to get you pregnant with my brother’s baby by the end of next year.”
I open my mouth to tell her Ludi and I had already discussed having babies and decided we’ll wait until I’m settled in a new job and we have a home. He lives in a one-bedroom apartment, and we’re in no rush to add a new person to our life.
I want to say all this to her, but she raises her hand. “I know it’s not my business, and Ludi told me not to make it my business, but I’m giving you a heads-up so you’re not caught off guard when I start buying baby clothes and delivering them to your house.”
Ivana is hard to read. I don’t know if she’s friendly or if she’s threatening me or trying to be nice and welcoming, so I smile. “Thank you,” I say. “But if you want babies, why don’t you have one?”
“Ha!” She encompasses the house with a sweep of her hand. “With these assholes? Look around. This is my world, and I’m destined to stay single for life.”
“You could go out and meet other men.”
“I could, but I don’t have time for distractions.”
Damn. “Ludi tells me you’re a workaholic.”
“I am.”
“Perhaps we could go to lunch sometime and see if…you know, you see someone you like.”
She tilts her head. “You mean hang out like girlfriends?”
She says that as if she’s never done lunch with a girlfriend. And maybe she hasn’t. Ludi often calls her and speaks in hushed tones about their business, so I presume Ivana is far more involved in the organization than just being his sister, which would mean she’s often dealing with guys. And not just any guys, for that matter. Dangerous men.
“Yeah, like girlfriends.”
“I’d like that.”
The doorbell rings, and I sit up, expecting Ludi, who went for a quick grocery run. Voices drift from the hallway, and I recognize them, but can’t believe who I’m hearing. I look at Ivana as if to confirm that my parents are really here.
She smiles. “I told you I’ll do anything for my brother’s baby.”
I rush to the hallway just as Ludi’s taking my mother’s coat. My dad closes the door behind him, arms outstretched to me. “Surprise,” he says.
I rush to him and hug him, stretching up on my toes, tears clouding my vision. Daddy and I fought so much after I told him of my engagement. He didn’t want me involved with “men like him,” meaning men like Ludi, organized criminals who ran with more organized criminals all over the world.
But Dad came here anyway.
“I’m so happy you came,” I say and peck his cheek.
He squeezes my shoulder and, not being one to spill his emos all over people, just nods. I hug my mom and catch Ludi winking at me. He leads my parents into the living room, where Ivana stands with shooters in her hands.
She smiles wide and walks to my mother. “Welcome.” She pecks my mom’s cheek, hands her a drink, then sits down with her while Dad walks to the fireplace to examine the pictures.
Ludi and I sit on the couch. His hand covers mine, fingers playing with his ring on my finger, a habit he has every time we sit together. I lean in and whisper, “I love you.”
