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38Agustín

Here goes nothing.

Eloise definitely seems less nervous than I thought she would be, but she’s only met my mom.

We step into the kitchen and immediately, we’re surrounded.

“Tín!” Caro shrieks, looking up from the kitchen island where she’s teaching Camila and Elena some kind of card game that will surely get her in trouble with Lupe. The girls hop down from their stools, abandoning the game to toddle over and throw their arms around my legs. Sofia is at the stove with Tía Cristina, and Vero is washing some vegetables in the sink.

“Did you bring us presents, Tío Tin?”

“Who’s that?” Elena asks, looking shyly at Eloise.

“That’s Tío Tin’s girlfriend,” Sofia says excitedly, coming over to stare up at Eloise. “Right, Abu?”

My mom tuts, as Vero abandons her vegetables and joins her sisters. “Everybody be nice to Tío Tin’s friend, please,” Mom says.

“Yes, Abu,” the four girls chant in unison.

Eloise has plastered herself to the wooden frame of the doorway, her eyes wide, taking it all in. She can’t understand anything anyone is saying, but I hope she likes the kitchen. The stout island is crafted from blue, white, and orange Talavera tiles, and there’s a matching backsplash lining the walls, beneath cabinets painted a vibrant teal. There are several pots on the stove, and a blender standing nearby on the counter for the salsas. The arched windows look out onto the street, and I can hear a man selling camotes, the shrieking whistle of his cart piercing the air as it steams sweet potatoes off in the distance.

“Move, girls,” Caro says, shooing them out of the way. “Eloise,” she says in English, “it’s so great to finally meet you!”

Then she scoops Eloise up into a hug as well. This is a lot of hugging for Eloise, and I can’t quite get a read on how she’s handling it. Then the Minions get in on it, shouting in rapid fire Spanish.

“I want a hug!”

“Tía Caro, it’s your turn to move.”

“I want to hug Tío Tin’s girlfriend!”

They crowd around Eloise, whose eyes have gone wide with panic, and I leap into action. “Who wants presents?” I say.

There are shrieks of “Yes!” and “Me, me, me!” and I lead my nieces, like little ducklings, out into the front hall, where I stashed my backpack. I brought a jewelry making kit for Sofia, a journal for the ever-serious Vero, and some glittery markers and stuffed animals for the twins.

As the girls excitedly chatter about their gifts, I hear a familiar voice from behind me.

“You’re back.”

I turn to see Lupe standing in the hall, arms folded across her chest. Her thick black hair falls in a straight line down to her shoulders, and she’s wearing a hunter green V-neck sweater with a pair of tapered slacks. Her mouth is pressed into a thin line, the small gold cross hanging around her neck catching the light.

“Hey, Lupe,” I say.

“Mamá, look, Tío Tin gave me a jewelry kit so I can make my own necklaces and bracelets and—”

“That’s wonderful, Sof. Why don’t you all go show Abuelo your new toys? He’s out in the garden,” Lupe says.

The girls scurry down the hall and into the living room. I hear them shout for my father before the back door slams shut.

“It’s good to see you,” I say.

“What the fuck, Agustín?” Lupe demands. She only ever swears around me and Caro. “How could you embarrass our family with this stupid fucking article? You really want to be dragging our dirty laundry out in front of everyone? Here and in New York?”

“I didn’t make Abuelo cheat,” I point out.

“Well, you could have kept your mouth shut about it,” she huffs.

“That’s not my job.”