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It wasn’t the app's fault—not that she would voice that opinion to Tia Angie. Laura had found that while her family loved her, they all thought they knew what was best for her and would argue with her if she tried to tell them anything different. She’d learned it was easier just to keep her mouth shut.
"What happened to the doctor your Tia Rosa set you up with, huh?"
"The podiatrist?"
"Si, the podiatrist."
Laura sighed. There was a laundry list of things wrong with Dr. Cruz, which he’d asked her to call him instead of his first name. But she’d just run through the top five dealbreakers for her aunt. "He is two inches shorter than me. Suffers from severe halitosis. Is in his late fifties. Heboastedabout filing for bankruptcy four times in his life. Has five kids and a vasectomy."
"Aye, vasectomy." Tia Angie clicked her tongue on the top of her mouth as she waved her hand dismissively. "Those can be reversed."
"Did you not hearanythingbefore that?"
Tia Angie stared at her like she had two heads. "But he’s single, si?"
Oh, for the love of Brad Pitt! Her family’s bar for eligible men was set so low that Mrs. Incredible couldn’t limbo under it. Laura vowed never to treat her nieces and nephews like she’d been treated. She wanted the best for them and always would.
Tia Angie leaned forward and patted Laura on the knee. "Mija, I’m just saying, you’re not getting any younger; maybe give him a call."
"No." Laura didn’t want to give her family any false hope. She didn’t want there to be any gray areas. She was not interested in Dr. Cruz.
The screen door opened, and Laura’s mom stepped outside onto the deck. She wore a long, flowy burnt orange sundress, and her hair was pulled up in a bun on her head. She was effortlessly beautiful, with the class and grace of Sophia Loren. Her mom would be seventy this year and didn’t look a day over forty.
Evalina Lopez was the original MILF. All of the boys in school drooled over Laura’s mom whenever she’d come to volunteer in one of her daughters’ classes. It used to embarrass her sisters, but Laura had always been proud of her mom.
"Kids come inside. Time to eat! Wash your hands!" her mom shouted.
Laura had never been so happy for a conversation to be interrupted. She stood as her aunt and uncle hurried inside to get first dibs on her mom’s famous taquitos before they disappeared. Laura waited at the screen door to make sure all the kiddos made it inside.
When the last one ran through, she knew that two were missing. The twins. The boys loved to climb trees, and they were probably up one of them. Laura stepped to the edge of the porch and called out, "Matty, Mikey, come on!"
There was no answer. She lifted her hand to cover the midday sun that was beating down on her, and that’s when she saw two pairs of legs dangling from a branch in the large oak tree in the backyard.
"I see your legs! Come on! Let’s eat!"
"We’re not hungry!" Matty and Mikey chorused in unison.
"Do you want me to tell Tito that you don’t want to eat Abuelita’s cooking?"
Her father wasmucheasier on his grandchildren than he’d been on Laura and her sisters, but he was still old-school. And when food had been prepared for you, you ate everything on your plate with a smile and said thank you. That was it. No complaining. No attitude. No skipping meals.
Within seconds, both boys had hopped down to the grass and were racing to get inside the house.
Laura walked in behind them, and as she slid the screen door shut, she heard a familiar voice that caused her to freeze in her tracks. She didn’t move. She was scared that if she did, then what she was hearing might actually be real.
"Hi, thank you for inviting me."
"Oh, Mario, I’m so happy you came!" her mother exclaimed.
"I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed these Sunday meals." Her ex’s deep timbre carried from the front of the house to the back, where Laura was sure she’d gone white as a sheet, not because she’d seen a ghost but because she’d heard one.
Laura’s stomach dropped.
Mario Moretti was her first love, her first kiss, her first everything—including husband. They were middle school sweethearts who then became high school and college sweethearts. They got engaged at eighteen. Married at twenty. Divorced at twenty-four after being together for twelve years because Mario cheated on her.
He’d gone on a bachelor’s weekend with his best friend, gotten drunk, and slept with someone. He’d felt horrible and told Laura about it when he got home. She’d been devastated. Heartbroken. Part of her had almost forgiven him and stayed, but she knew herself too well. If she’d stayed, she knew she’d never be able to get over the betrayal. The trust was gone, and even at twenty-four, she was self-aware enough to know that if she stayed, there’d always be a part of her wondering if he was lying. If he was five minutes late, she’d question who he was with and what he was doing. She knew she’d go through his phone and emails.
That wasn’t the foundation for a healthy marriage. But that didn’t mean that a part of her still didn’t love Mario.
