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I'm not ashamed of where I come from or where I'm at in life, but Leo and I are two different people. He's a man of standing and I'm the local barista girl, ex-stripper, ex-tattoo artist, ex-many-fucking-jobs.
I’m just a highschool dropout working to put food on our table. Not a woman on her way to the top.
I feel like the rug will be pulled from underneath my feet at any moment and I'll just be the joke of the night.
My mother comes into the living room, hobbling on a sprained ankle I can't pay a doctor to fix and it's like a light just turned on, shining brightly on my life. Illuminating everything I truly am.
I'm not a mobster's girl. I'm that ruca from the hood. The one who minds her business and never climbs out of the ghetto. In a few years, I'll find a guy and have children who I will struggle to give a better life to, but they'll most likely live the same cycle.
"Hija, why are you crying?" My mother's voice pulls me from the oppressive hole I started falling into.
Wiping the tears I hadn't felt fall, I look up at her, "I'm just riding the waves, mami."
I drop down onto the mattress and cover my face.
I never break in front of her because I never want her to feel like she isn't enough but damn, I just want to feel lovely and wanted. Leo makes me feel that way but am I biting off more than I can chew with him?
Why would a guy like him want a girl like me? Yes, I know my worth but it's definitely not at his level.
I guess my smile can be wiped away.
My mother's arms come around my shoulders, "What do you mean, baby?"
How to explain? Breathing deeply, I wipe my eyes and look at her, "Leo. He wants to take me on a date tonight, and I can't shake the feeling that he and I will never work. What do I bring to the table besides debt and shitty table manners? I don't have anything to offer him and even if I did, what could I possibly give to a man like him?"
I look at the dress and shoes behind us, and even as they take my breath away, they mock me.
"Leo bought you this?" My mom runs her fingers over the material delicately.
"What does he want with a girl like me? What does he see when all I see is... me? A nobody? Someone easily forgotten."
"You listen to me, Dicennica. You are not easily forgotten. Leo sees something that the rest of the world is too blind to see. He sees realism, loyalty, honor, beauty and he wants that on his side. You think I don't know who he is?" My mother laughs and shakes her head.
"Who is he?" I ask her curiously.
She shrugs, playing it off, "He is a man, hija. A man who hasn't forgotten where he comes from. He wants you because of all the things I stated, but also because you are home to him. No, that doesn't mean you're ghetto, that means you are what he trusts; you are what he knows and craves."
I open my mouth, but she holds up her hand, "He doesn't want you for what you can offer, he wants you because you are the offering. You can give him what no one else can."
I'm not sure what it is she's talking about but I'm just going to silently agree to disagree.
"I think I'm going to call him and cancel. He can find another charity case on every street around here."
I pull my phone out, but my mom snatches it quickly.
"First, let me ask you. Why did you tell me not to speak to him this morning?”
I really don’t want to lie to her, so I shrug, “It was just a misunderstanding.”
Mom purses her lips before nodding, “Okay, then you need to go on this date and see it through. He bought this beautiful dress. At least enjoy it for the night, hija."
I stand and face the bed, admiring how the material sparkles with the flame from the burning candles on the windowsill.
"The dress is too beautiful to waste." I say with a smirk.
My mom claps her hands excitedly as I gather my robe and towel and rush to the shower.
