“Hi, Dad.”
As Kate gets the same treatment, I lovingly look at my dad.
Michael Walker is tall and—to my mother’s great envy—lean without even trying. For as long as I can remember, my dad has worn the same model of rimless glasses and variations of blueish short-sleeved button-ups and beige pants. While his fast metabolism might help him age well, his receding hairline doesn’t. For years, my mom has been trying to get him to buzz cut it all, insisting he would look like Bruce Willis, but he hangs on to what he has left with tenacity. Rafa and I don’t want to get involved in this debate because we both know there’s no way he’d ever look like theDie Hardactor.
I let my dad and Kate discuss, moving on with the salutations. Rafa and I fist-bump as I pass by him, and then I follow the mouth-watering smells to the kitchen.
The delicious-looking food surrounding my abuela almost makes me drool. She went overboard and prepared way too much. I’m not complaining, though. There are corn cobs, Pozole, homemade tortillas, fried rice, sautéed veggies, and I can see some meat roasting in the oven.
“¡Hola, MC! ¿Cómo estás?” I ask her, using the street name Rafael and I teasingly picked for her. It was initially a joke, but it stuck around.
Maria Carmen Ibanez was busy her entire life, working hard to raise three children while earning a salary as a maid in a luxurious hotel. She’s remained active since retiring, and one could never guess she’s seventy-six. To her great pride, she can still do pretty much everything with impressive efficiency. Her quick wits also remain untouched by the years, and her repartee is legendary. I don’t look much like my mother or father, but from what I’ve heard and the old, damaged pictures I’ve seen, I’m MC’s spitting image. I certainly inherited her short height since both my parents are taller than average.
She barely pays me any attention, busy tasting the stew before her. “Estoy bien. Hand me the salt,mija,” she asks, without even turning toward me. Knowing how she gets when she cooks, I smile and obey swiftly.
When I reach her, she takes the salt from my hands and extends her cheek for me to kiss it. Once more, I comply, enjoying the familiar scent of her face moisturizer, and offer my cheek in return. She gives me a peck and returns to her cooking.
“Do you need any help?” I propose in Spanish.
“No, I’m almost done. Go make sure the boys set the table correctly, and you can tell everyone we’re eating in five minutes.”
When I’m back in the dining room, Rafa, Mom, and Kate are talking while Dad sets the wine glasses on the table, as well as two beers—for him and me.
Dinner unfolds nicely. It’s delightful to be here, surrounded by my loved ones. The food is fantastic, and catching up with them is great. But I can’t help it as my mind regularly drifts to another loved one, spending his evening alone instead of with me, as intended.
Fuck! I was supposed to text him when I arrived! I take my phone out swiftly and open my messages.
Me
Sorry, I forgot to text you!
Right after, typing bubbles appear.
Lex
It’s alright. I figured you were busy and didn’t want to bother you.
Me
You could never bother me.
For the duration of the dinner, my mind is divided between the conversation I’m having on my phone with Lex and the one with my family. Although I love my folks, I’m much more interested in whatever Lex texts me.
Lex
The suspense has been killing me. I think I might keep watching the movie without you.
Me
Don’t you dare. This is our first movie together. You can’t do that.
Lex
Fine. But next time you cut short one of our weekends together, I’ll have to discipline you.
The temperature goes up at once as a delicious warmth spreads through my body. Images of Lex sexually chastising me flood my mind.
Me
