“Camilito.” My mom gave me a funny look as she handed me my plate. “Sorry, Ma.”
“How’s work? Anything new going on over there?” I immediately stiffened, unsure of how to explain just how muchwasgoing on at work. I picked up my bagel, and took a big bite before getting into it.
“We got pretty big news this week actually. We have a donor for the renovation. It’s this rich business guy; he wants to give two million dollars to the agency.” I tried to school my expression and sound neutral, because I knew if there was anything in my tone that sounded even remotely like drama, mymom would pick up on it. The way she raised her eyebrow told me my attempt at being coy had completely failed.
“Oh, so what’s wrong with him? Because your eyelid’s doing something funny.” I slumped and laughed in defeat.
“I sort of know the guy. Like,in that way.”I was the only child of a woman whogrew up in the Cuban revolution. Sex had never been taboo in this house.
“Who is he? You hadn’t mentioned you were seeing a millionaire, Milito!” She widened her eyes like she did when something particularly juicy happened in one of her telenovelas.
“We weren’t seeing each other, Ma. It was a one-time thing.” I took another bite of my bagel, just to have something to do. I felt so exposed and weird talking about Tom, even with my mother.
She looked confused now, like she couldn’t understand why I was making a big deal out of it, then a worried expression settled on her face.
“Did he say something disrespectful to you? Is he trying to force you to do anything?”
I help up my hands, concerned I’d scared her.
“Not at all, it’s nothing like that. It’s just awkward.”
And here was the part that was hard to admit. “I’m just a little worried I’ll do something stupid. I’m so attracted to him and the more I learn about him, the more amazing he seems.” I slid a hand over my face, before I continued, feeling a little mortified. “I don’t want to be unprofessional, and Iknowhe should be off-limits, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to keep it together if he pushes for something.”
“And what would be so bad about being swept off your feet by a handsome and generous millionaire, Milito?” she asked, genuinely baffled by my dilemma.
Aaaaaand there it was. My friends always teased me about being a closeted Disney princess, secretly waiting for PrinceCharming to whisk me away on a white horse, and maybe I was. But I’d come by it honestly.
My mother was a hopeless romantic, fanatical about watching her telenovelas, hooked on those happy endings. Even though she’d given up on love for herself, she still held out hope I’d find the perfect partner. In my dad she’d foundherprince charming, and she fervently believed there was someone out there who was made just for me. I doubted it would be the guy I’d given a blow job one hour after meeting him though.
“Mama, I can’t get involved with this guy. It would be inappropriate, and it could mess up the project or get me fired. I have to meet with him on my own Wednesday, and I have no clue how it’s going to go. I’m nervous.” I knew I was being overly dramatic, but I was completely at a loss on how things would go once I was on my own with Tom.
My mom shook her head like I was being ridiculous. “Camilo, you’ll be fine. No one knows how to handle himself better than you. Especially when it comes to a man who wants to take advantage.” Suddenly her face looked sad, and she turned around to pour herself another coffee. “You learned that lesson from what I let that man do to us.”
I frowned and walked up to where she was cursing her ex, Ramon, for the millionth time.
“Ma, you’re the bravest woman in the world. Everything I know about standing up for myself, I learned from you. Please don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“Okay, mi amor.” She let me walk into her arms again and held on to me tight. She was a few inches shorter than me, but she wassostrong. With her arms wrapped around me I finally started feeling like I could handle this meeting with Tom.
Tom
“¿Cómo están mis viejos?” I asked around the grin I was sure I was flashing my parents with. They loved to act like they hated being called old.
“M’ijo. You look tired. Are you sleeping all right?” my mother said, ignoring my “viejos” comment and doing her usual assessment of my face. Getting in as close as the phone screen allowed. I shook my head and shared a look with my dad.
“Mamí, I’m fine. I’m just forty-one and don’t look like your baby anymore.” She flipped a hand at me like what I was saying was ridiculous, then bumped my dad’s shoulder.
“You may be light-skinned, but you got the Dominican genes for sure, you don’t look a day older than thirty,” she said in a teasing tone as my dad rolled his eyes. “Where’s my niña?” she asked tilting her head from side to side as if I was hiding Libe behind me or something.
It was late on Sunday, and I usually called them when Libe was around, but today I was feeling like I wanted to check in with them on my own. My dad must have suspected there was something going on with me, because he leaned in for his own close inspection of my face.
“Is everything alright son?” He’d let his beard grow in the last few years, so his weathered face was covered with salt-and-pepper hair.
I nodded quickly, not wanting to worry them. “Yeah, we’re good. She’s in bed already. We had a busy day at the zoo.”
My mother’s face relaxed and my dad smiled as he reached for her hand. They still did that, held hands when they were sitting together or walking. After so many years they sought each other’s touch for comfort.
Theirs had been such an unlikely love story.
