Page 9 of A Curvy Girl’s Hurricane Survival Guide

I blink, suddenly aware that I’ve zoned out. Sonny is standing awkwardly nearby, politely waiting.

“Oh, sorry, I was lost in thought,” I say. Rey, this is Sonny. Sonny, this is Rey, my brother-in-law.”

“What’s up, bro?” Rey says, then squints at Sonny as if trying to place him. “You seem familiar?” Sonny seems uncomfortable for a second, and then Rey adds with a straight face, “Cai, is this the guy you posted all those pics with last week, or was that a different guy? Hard to keep up.”

I roll my eyes. “He’s joking,” I say to Sonny. “He thinks it’s hilarious to imply I’m a whore.” I shrug, and Rey is laughing at his own joke as he loads my suitcase.

I smile at Sonny. This isn’t a typical situation, and Rey isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but Sonny is rolling with the punches comfortably. I have avoided bringing guys home in the past. I hadn’t wanted to overwhelm them or be “too much.” But Sonny doesn’t seem judgmental at all.

“Come on, get in,” Rey says. “I still need to stop by CAO Bakery on the way home to grab a tray of pastelitos.”

Sonny looks shocked as he gets in the car. “Is there a bakery open? Judging by the state of the airport, you’d think it was the end of the world.”

“Pfft, that’s tourist freak-out. They get so many orders, they have a special literally called the hurricane platter!” Rey says with a chuckle. “By the way, are you good with chickens?”

“What’s with the chicken questions? Is this some kind of Miami litmus test?” Sonny asks.

Rey smiles and adds, “I have to pick up a chicken from my Tio on the way home. You might have to hold it.”

Sonny glances at me, probably wondering if Rey is joking again. I shrug and say, “Cubans and chickens. It’s a thing.”

“Well, I prefer my chicken in a bucket, but I’m sure I can manage to hold one if called upon.”

Sonny is being a good sport. His energy is totally relaxed and at ease. I hope the vibes last when the mob descends upon us at my parents’ home.

SONNY

There is something endearing about seeing Cai with her brother-in-law. She’s animated and familial in a way I haven’t seen yet. I catch the anxious glances and tense recovery when Rey says something potentially feather-ruffling. Still, there is a level of teasing, and something like sibling love showing through. I don’t think I am that in tune with my two sisters, let alone their significant others.

The air inside the minivan smells like old coffee and a faint ocean breeze air freshener. Rey weaves through the infamous Miami traffic like it’s a video game, honking and muttering in Spanglish while Cai laughs at his near-misses or adds a few expletives of her own. Between the comments to the other drivers, Rey’s jovial as he chats with Cai about her nieces and nephews and seems unaware of the turret-like outbursts, and never loses his place in his story.

When we pull into a shopping center and park, I let out a breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding. “See?” Rey says, nodding to the mob of people filtering in and out of the bakery. “Hurricanes are like a holiday out here.” With a “be right back, Cerdita,” Rey gets out of the car and dives into the mob.

“What did he call you?” I ask.

Cai’s cheeks went pink. “Cerdita. It means… piggy.”

My shoulders squared up instinctively. Rey didn’t strike me as the type to tease someone about their weight.

She catches my expression and quickly waves a hand. “It’s not like that! My last name is De la Cerda, which literally translates to ‘from the pig.’ He’s been calling me that since we were kids. In my family, it’s used almost like a term of endearment.”

“Oh,” I say, rolling my neck a bit to try to release the tension that has settled there. “That’s … weirdly sweet, I guess.”

Cai gives a small, self-deprecating laugh. “My whole name is basically a bully’s dream. My first name is Cayetana. In Spanish, ‘cállate’ is like saying ‘shut up.’ So that plus from the pigs. Yeah, Cai felt like the safer choice growing up.”

She looks away at nothing in particular, quiet for a few beats. Although she says she doesn’t mind, her fingers wrap tightly around the sleeves of her discarded hoodie, making me think maybe there’s more to the story.

I want to comfort her and tell her that none of that stuff matters, but instead I choose to offer her something of my own. “I get it. My name is Lawson. My family started calling me Sonny when I was little, and the way they said it made me feel belittled. Like they were calling me ‘kid’ or ‘boy.’ I hated it for years. But then I grew to like the name. And I really think it made me a stronger person because of the teasing I grew up with. That’s why I go by it today. I think sometimes those names are like a gift in the long run.”

She perks up, eyes lighting. “Like ‘A Boy Named Sue’!” She says as Rey returns to the car.

I grin, pleasantly surprised she knows it. “Exactly. Tough love in nickname form.”

Rey hands Cai a few trays and asks, “Who’s named what?”

“A Boy Named Sue, by Johnny Cash,” I say, then clarify. “It’s a song.”

“Never heard of it,” Rey says.