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“What?” she snapped.
“I’m just thinking. . .” She leaned against the kitchen counter. “What if we invite them all out for brunch? Tear off the bandage everybody is avoiding.”
“I must be losing my mind,” Sylvie said with a resigned sigh.
Lauren chuckled. “Why?”
“Because that’s a terrible idea,” she replied, taking back her phone to text her mother, “and I’m willing to try it.”
An hour and a half later,the Campos and the Machados sat down for brunch in the Cuban restaurant situated between their opposing Miami Lakes bakeries. Neutral territory. Or, at least, Lauren hoped.
The seven of them sat around a large, round table at the center of the busy restaurant. The Campos on one side and the Machados on the other. Sylvie, to Lauren’s surprise, had made the brave choice of sitting next to Lauren, acting as the literal bridge between the two families. Where the circle closed on the other end, their fathers left an empty chair between them.
Around them, scores of guests engaged in conversations loud enough to drown out the high energy salsa music blasting from unseen speakers. Every inch of the place, from wall to ceiling, was covered in kitsch presumably meant to transport guests to 1950’s Havana.
Wedged between her mother and Sylvie, Lauren sipped her water and doubted the wisdom of their bravery. She drank slowly, making the icy beverage last so she didn’t have to fill the frigid silence at the only quiet table in the whole restaurant.
“Well this is awkward as hell.” Sylvie’s brother pulled his spoon out of his coffee cup and let it fall on the saucer with a clang that made Sylvie’s mother jump.
“Junior,” Sylvie’s stout father hissed.
“He’s right,” Lauren decided, digging deep for a little courage. “But this doesn’t have to be so awkward, you guys. We’re all adults here. Let’s reach across the table and bury the hatchet, okay?”
“I know exactly where to put that hatchet,” Lauren’s mother muttered, her eyes glued to Sylvie’s glaring mother across the table. They were two cats, backs arched, circling the same alley.
Sylvie leaned over to Lauren and whispered, “I told you.”
Lauren was going to counter that technically she’d guessed it would be her mother threatening Lauren’s mother with a hatchet, but it was not the time for hair-splitting.
“Come on.” Lauren squeezed her mother’s hand under the table. “We’ve all accepted the truth that there is no historic feud to keep alive here. Whatever we all did,” she glanced around the table making eye contact with every other person, “in furtherance of what we thought was our family honor was wrong. We need to consider each other forgiven so we can work on moving on.”
“How can I forgive her when she cost me a seat on the board of Miami’s Animal Friends Society? It’s not like she’s ever apologized,” Lauren’s mother snapped, her body tensing.
“Mom—”
“You always blame all your problems on me.” Sylvie’s mother crossed her arms over her Fabletics-covered chest.
Lauren’s mother dug her nails into Lauren’s hand.
“Gah!” Lauren pulled her bruised hand away just in time for her mother’s rage to bubble over.
“You told people I was obsessed with the Twilight books and was trying to become a vampire!”
Vampireechoed over the ambient noise, causing all the patrons around them to stop talking and stare.
Sylvie’s mother couldn’t contain the amusement dancing in her honey eyes. “I didn’t say that.” She stuck her pointy chin in the air. “Not directly. If someone incorrectly inferred that, it’s not my fault.”
“Incorrectly inferred. Ha! That’s a laugh—”
Lauren’s nerves twisted her stomach the same way her grandmother used to wring out a mop. “Mom,” she whispered, her eyes darting around the restaurant. “People are looking.”
Her mother regained her composure enough to settle back into her chair. She could still pole-vault over the table and try to throttle Sylvie’s mom if she wanted to, but at least Lauren would have a little notice.
“Aw, Lauren. Come on. This was just about to get interesting,” Junior whined.
“Are we ready to order?” The waitress appeared, giving Lauren’s racing heart a chance to relax.
Sylvie replaced Lauren’s empty water glass with her own full one. “Just let go of expectation.” She reached under the table and took her hand. “At the end of the day, we’re the only ones that matter.”
