American Sweethearts
Page 22
“Good. Come in, your sister should be home soon, and your tíos are on their way over. We’re all so happy you’re here, papí.” I got another squeeze.
“The guys are inside,” she said, trying her best to look grumpy, and failing completely. “They’ve only been here for fifteen minutes and Juanpa’s already eaten all my food.”
I just grinned down at her. “Don’t even front like you’re mad, Mamí. I know you love having a house full of people.”
She looked up at me with a blank look on her face, as if she wasn’t sure what my point was. “Nesto’s home!” she called while she went for another hug.
I loved seeing my mom in her home. She’d busted her ass as a single mom for so long to give us a good life. She’d kept us out of trouble and was an amazing role model, but it all came at a cost.
She never stopped. She worked hard, and always knew what was up with school, with friends and on the block. All while going to night school, and sending money home to help the family back in the DR. If anyone deserved to slow down and smell the roses, it was Nurys Maldonado.
We stood by the door arm in arm and then my mom waved toward the kitchen. “Let me go start some coffee.” She gave me one last peck on the cheek before she hurried off.
I spotted Milo sprawled on the couch messing with his phone. “Did Milo do anything to my car?” I asked my mom, who was already in the kitchen.
Mamí smiled in Camilo’s direction while she bustled around. “Car looks fine to me, but you know Milo. As soon as he got here he started moaning about getting lost three times and cursing out Juanpa and Patrice for not picking up when he called them.”
I looked over and saw my friends filling my mom’s living room. My brothers. I wouldn’t have them just a few subway stops away anymore. I tried to shake off the feeling of unease the thought brought me and focused on all the stuff we needed to get done before they went back to the city.
But before I could get to them, my uncle and aunt were barreling into the house making a fuss over me, and talking over each other asking about the truck.
“Nesto! M’ijo. Look at you. You look more like your abuelo every day. Doesn’t he, Nurys?” my aunt asked my mom as she engulfed me in a tight hug.
Tía Maritza was a slightly thinner and older version of my mom. The same bronzed skin, the curly hair, tall and curvy. She didn’t look a day over forty-five, even though sixty-two was just a few months away. She and Tío Tonin had been married for almost forty years and still looked at each other like they were high school sweethearts.
“What’s good, Tío? You letting Tía Maritza feed you too much of that platano?” I asked, patting the little bulge around his waistband.
He laughed heartily as he went in for a bear hug.
Tonin as always had a big smile on his face, and at sixty-five his dark brown skin was still free of any wrinkles. My uncle had always been like a father to me. He taught me by example how a man should act toward those he loved. I hoped when the time came, like him, I could be the type of man who put his people first.
“It’s good to have you home, mi muchacho. Your mother’s been putting the pressure on us all week getting everything ready for you. We’ve been talking up the truck in town too, people are excited for the Caribbean burritos.”
“That’s good, man, I need to sell a lot of them if I’m going to make rent!” I said, clapping his back as he moved to put his arm around Tía Maritza’s shoulders.
“Tía, you’re looking younger every year.” She preened and gave me another kiss.
“We’re so happy you’re here, papí.”
“It’s good to be here. How’s Pri doing? I haven’t seen her in a minute.” At the mention of my cousin, my aunt’s face shone with pride.
“She’s great. She may be here tomorrow. Hopefully you can see her.”
“Definitely.” I nodded and looked over at the guys who were lounging on my mom’s furniture. Juanpa’s stank face told me he’d probably heard us talking about Priscilla.
He was ridiculous.
Those two had a love/hate thing going on since we were kids, and apparently they were back to hating each other.
“Yo, are you bums just going to lounge over here all afternoon? We got shit to do!”
Juanpa squinted up at me while he sipped some kind of Frappuccino looking thing.
“I’m taking a break, son. I just drove five hours hauling all your shit out here. Let me enjoy my independent coffee shop beverage, pa.” He lifted his cup. “They got a drive-thru barista situation in town. This shit is fire. They need to open one of these places in the city.”
He looked so happy sucking down on that straw.
“Okay, man, drink your sugar bomb first, but we need to unload your truck before you leave tonight.” Juanpa went back to focusing on his drink and doing something on his phone and just nodded, already distracted. I looked over at Milo who was hunched over, looking at something on Patrice’s laptop.
“What did I tell you about calling people while driving my car, man?”
Patrice shook his head and grinned as he typed, but knew better than to try and make a joke about Camilo’s driving. Milo flipped me off, looking like he was about to curse me out, when I saw my sister, Minerva, coming up the path to the house.
She was so tall, and was looking more like Mamí every day. She was just a few inches shorter than my six feet two by now. We didn’t have the same dad, but everyone said we were identical as babies, same light brown skin with a tint of red. Whenever we ran or laughed too hard our whole faces flushed. Her hair was straighter than mine, and my eyes were a lighter brown, but we both had our mom’s face. Full mouth, broad nose and thick eyelashes. Minerva’s were so long they looked fake.
She was gorgeous, just like Mamí.
I went to meet her by the door and as soon as she walked in, I picked her up and twirled her around a couple of times.
“You’re getting too pretty, baby sister. It’s a good thing I’m here, Mamí!” I yelled over my shoulder. “We can start working on the protective fence around the house this weekend. Got to keep the boys away!”
“Stop it! You’re so extra, Nesto.” She hit me on the shoulder, laughing. “What’s wrong with you? Put me down.”
“What, you’re too big for your manín to pick you up?” I asked, squeezing her tight. “So, are you dating? What’s his name?”
I crossed my eyes, making her laugh again.
“Stop it. Loco.”
“She had this gringito following her around like a puppy all winter,” my mom said, walking out of the kitchen.
“He was here all the time, hanging around with a mopey face, and Justin Bieber hair, trying to read poems in Spanish.”
She clicked her tongue and gave my sister her patented “pobrecita” face, which was half “I feel bad for you” and half “but really I should be mocking you.”
“I didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop coming over,” she teased Minerva, who was giving her a death glare with the intensity only a sixteen-year-old could produce. My mom kept going though. “He sabotaged himself enough with that haircut and bad Spanish.”
We all cracked up while my baby sister silently gave me and the guys the finger as she sat on the couch. Before my mom and Minerva got into something I decided to get people back on track, because the clock was ticking.
“Okay, mi gente,” I said, clapping my hands together. “What’s the plan? We have a lot to get ready if I have the truck scheduled for a lunch service in town tomorrow.” I flashed a smile at my mom who was standing at attention.
“Mamí, I stopped by the gas station and that spot is going to be lit.” She beamed with pride at my comment. “You said you had all the food at the kitchen, right?”
“That’s right. Everything’s there ready to go.”
The “I told you so” face Cami
lo was flashing my way did not go unnoticed.
I looked at my watch and saw it was only 2:30 p.m. “Excellent. We have plenty of time to get all the night before food preparation done. Milo and Juanpa, since you guys are driving back tonight we should go to the kitchen and get all the stuff in J’s truck unloaded now.”
Everyone nodded and people started getting up and ready to get going as I talked.
“I can get my clothes and stuff moved into the studio with Patrice tonight since he’s here until tomorrow. The woman I’m subletting from texted today and said I can go into the apartment anytime. She left the keys with you, right, Mamí?”
She patted her bag, which was already slung on her shoulder.
“Yes, I have them here, I can’t believe you aren’t staying here even one night.”
I had to nip the guilt tripping in the bud.
“Mamí, you know it’ll be easier for me. The studio is in Trumansburg, right by where I’ll be parking the truck overnight. It’s closer to the commercial kitchen space we’re renting. It just makes sense for me to be up there.”
She sighed and came over to pinch my cheek.
“Yo se, yo se. I just wanted to spoil you a little bit. Anyways, I took the week off so I can help you with the truck, m’ijo. Tía Maritza will also help until you hire some people.”
Mamí was already headed for the door but called over to my sister who’d gone back to her room for something. “Minerva, vamonos, are you playing with that thing on your phone that gives you rabbit ears again?” She turned around to look at me. “She spends all day making faces at that thing!” She rolled her eyes, while the rest of us lost it, then went back to yelling in the direction of Minerva’s room. “Vamos, muchachita! We need to help out your brother, and you have school tomorrow.”
Minerva hustled out, looking flustered. “Ay, Mamí, why are you yelling? I’m ready.” My sister hiked her thumb at me, as she walked to the door. “Vamonos, Ernesto.”
That was it, my people were ready and so was I. The Ithaca chapter of OuNYe was finally off and running.
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ISBN: 9781488053986
American Sweethearts
Copyright © 2020 by Adriana Herrera
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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