“Mia?” said Mariana. “Are you the one dating the jewelry guy with the dog? Carla is a little jealous of you.”
Finding herself in a group of way-cooler-than-her Gonzalez-Torres women, Mia couldn’t help feeling a little smug.
“No, I’m not!” Carla said, her cheeks turning pink. “I just said he was hot. I say that about a lot of people.”
“No, you said,why can’t I hit that?”
“Again, I say that about a lot of people. But at least I do occasionally hit it, while Natalie’s dating life is like the desert. No life.”
Natalie shook her head. “What are you talking about? There’s lots of life in the desert. There’s cactus, snakes, scorpions…” Her sentence petered out as her sisters gave her raised eyebrows.
“This is what you’re going with,” Mariana said.
“No,” Carla inserted. “I think she’s right. The desert is a fitting metaphor for her love life”
“Ugh, stop. I don’t plan on getting married so it doesn’t matter now does it,” Natalie replied.
“Ay, dios mío.” Her abuelita did the sign of the cross as though Natalie’s pronouncement was blasphemy to her ancestors.
“Who said anything about marriage? I saidhit it. Anyway, don’t care because I’m more interested in what’s going on with the jewelry guy.” And Carla’s big brown eyes turned toward Mia.
Mia was having a good time with the teasing up until this point. “Oh, uh, we’re just friends. Not exactly dating.”
The women all spoke at once with Spanish mixed in and pointed to a lit religious candle that featured the Virgin Mary. It was clear she was being warned against lying in front of dead souls and paper marigold pom-poms. “Okay, okay. I hit that,” Mia confessed.
“Finally,” Natalie said. “Although you might have to repeat the whole story since your mom hasn’t arrived yet.”
“Oh, should I…?” After this, Mia wasn’t sure she was ready to bring down her mood quite yet…or ever.
“Yeah, it’s fine. This is a community table.”
Mia took a steady breath and reached into her bag. She carefully pulled out a framed photo of her mom sitting in front of a fountain. She set it on the table before reaching for the small quilt she brought. “My mom also loved flowers. She appliqued her favorites on this one.” She pushed down a lump in her throat as she set the item beside the photo.
The girls gathered her in a side hug, and Abuelita handed Mia a stick lighter. “For the candle.”
“Oh. Okay.” Mia set the wick of a votive candle aflame. She stared into it while taking a few moments to think about her mother.
“Your mamá must be very proud of you,” Natalie’s grandma said.
“I hope so,” Mia replied. “I’m sure there are some things she would be disappointed about. I didn’t come home during my breaks as much as I should have. I didn’t take enough photos when I had the chance. I was always so busy trying to do another program or just do more with my schooling. I’m afraid it won’t be worth the sacrifice.”
The older woman studied her. “You have that time now. This is Día de los Muertos. We celebrate what we had and continue to have because they stay with us.”
Mia wiped a hand across her nose.
“Es la verdad. The truth. You find the truth in yourself. That’s what makes mamás proud.”
After spending the day with Natalie’s family, walking around the other tables to see activities for kids, and witnessing a procession in the parking lot while drinking Mexican hot chocolate and eating pan dulce, she felt loved and connected. The whole thing was bittersweet but lovely.
But the last thing she wanted to do was go home afterward. Things were still rough with her dad, and she was actively avoiding him rather than engaging. She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t still angry over the whole situation.
Her mind instead turned to Ross. Their dinner had been a week ago. She hadn’t reached out to him again, nor had he reached out to her. It seemed like they had both agreed the whole thing was going to be a one time thing. Something to get out of their system. As much as she told herself she was fine and it didn’t matter, she had a sneaking suspicion getting him out of her system would never be so easy.
She parked her car along the sidewalk in front of his house. She didn’t even know if he was home or—
Ross stepped out the door, wiping his hands with a dishtowel. “Hi.”
“Hey.” She wasn’t sure what to say to him. Telling him she simply wanted to be near him, see him, might come off as creepy. So she didn’t say anything, choosing to remain fixed to her car.
