“It didn’t start out that way,” he replied. “We even called ahead to make sure it was okay for us to stop by.”
“What happened?” I asked again. I must have been loud because Zach turned to me with a questioning expression. I covered the speaker and said quietly, “My cousin, Raphael.” To my cousin, I said, “Raphael, Zach is here, so I’m going to put this on speaker if that’s okay with you.”
“That’s fine,” he replied. “Evan wants to tell the story anyway because he says I’m too lawyerly. That’s code for I’m not dramatic enough.”
“Hush you,” Evan said. “We got there just as dessert was being served. And damn, your mama makes great desserts.”
“I know,” I murmured. I scooted over so Zach could sit beside me.
“Anyway,” Evan continued, “when we walked in, Carlos was drunkenly pontificating about something. Your sister looked embarrassed. She was also busy trying to corral your niece and nephew.”
“Asshole,” I muttered. I hastily added, “Carlos, not you.”
“I figured,” Evan said dryly.
“Your mother hurried over to greet us and Raphael’s dad gave Carlos this epic side eye that shut him right up.”
I heard Raphael say, “You’re lucky if it’s never aimed at you.”
I’d seen Uncle Mateo give his side eye to Raphael a time or two. It had definitely stopped him in his tracks. “Okay, you’re killing me here. What happened next?”
“So impatient,” Evan murmured.
“Yes, I am.”
“Anyway,” he said, elongating the word, “we all sat down to dessert. Raphael and I took turns with the kids so Isabella could enjoy hers. Carlos kept glowering at us, and I knew he wanted to say something about us holding his kids.”
“Tell them what you were wearing,” Raphael said with humor in his voice.
“Hey, I was very nicely dressed,” Evan protested.
“You looked wonderful, my love,” Raphael soothed.
“Okay,” I interrupted. “What were you wearing that clearly got under Carlos’s skin?”
“A white suit with a pink dress shirt,” Evan replied. “Oh, and a touch of eyeliner and mascara.”
“I made him leave the feather boa at home,” Raphael quipped. “In deference to the holiday.”
I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. “Oh my god. After all the hand-wringing about me wearing makeup, you sashay in there with all the gay. That must have been epic. I wish I could have been there.”
“What did Carlos do?” Zach asked. “The way you were talking, something bad happened.”
“Give the man a gold star,” Evan said. He sighed. “In addition to all my gorgeous gayness, he apparently didn’t like the amount of melanin I have in my skin.”
“Oh shit,” Zach murmured.
“Yeah,” Evan said. “He muttered something near me in Spanish when no one else was around, assuming I wouldn’t know what he was saying.”
I dropped my head and let out an exasperated breath. “Seriously?”
“Yep,” Raphael commented.
Zach looked confused. “Fill me in? I’m lost.”
“Sorry, darling,” Evan said. “My father is Jamaican. My mother is from Ghana. I’ve been multilingual practically from birth. I speak four languages, and one of them is Spanish because my best friend in kindergarten was a Spanish speaker, and I wanted to talk to him.”
“What did you do?” I asked.
