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“It’s fine, Howie,” Mama says. “So, Val, tell us all about yourself.”
“Um, well?—”
“You’re from New York City, right?” Dad asks. “A real tough guy, huh?”
“Oh. Uh, not really. I mean?—”
“Yes! Look at those muscles,” Mama says. “CeCe, did you see his muscles?”
“There’s no chive-and-onion cream cheese, either, Ruby,” my aunt says. “There’s no chive-and-onion cream cheese,” she also tells me.
“Not too much muscle, though,” Mama continues. “The perfect amount, really. Don’t you think, Tiara?”
My sister bites her lip like she has plenty of thoughts about Val’s muscles, but thankfully is too shy to share them. I wish my parents had that issue. I knew they’d love him. I didn’t prepare for the fact that they’d love him too much.
“Hey, so the new hamster. How’s that going?” I cut in before this weird conversation can resume.
For the record, I also think Val has the perfect amount of muscles but that’s not something I ever planned on telling him. It’s not something anyone should ever tell anyone, really. Which means it would be the first thing my parents say.
“It smells like shit!” Ian calls over from the couch.
“Ian!” Mama cries. “Apologize right now!”
“To what? The hamster that’s not even here? Sorry, Muffy!” Ian declares in a dry tone.
Mama crosses her arms and shoots a glare at my brother. Typically, I’d jump in to prevent this from escalating, but Muffy’s odor is a vast improvement over the previous topic. I know Val thinks so as he shifts awkwardly, waiting to see what will be thrown at him next. His smile is more amused than offended, though, and the relief is real. This could have been way worse.
“That’s quite the interesting tattoo you have beside your eye,” Dad says. “Don’t see a lot of face tats in our circles. What’s it mean?”
Like that, for example.
“Dad,” I groan. “Don’t answer that,” I say to Val.
“We’re just curious, sweetheart,” Mama says.
“Yes, but?—”
“It’s fine,” Val cuts in with an uncomfortable smile. “It’s a long story. Short version is my parents were upset about my life choices and said if I ever got a face tattoo, they’d disown me. So I did.”
Oh.
My own parents are silent for maybe the first time ever as they study Val with shocked, sad expressions. My stomach aches when his jaw clenches like he’s fighting something heavy and dark. I’ve often wondered about the tiny X by his eye. It seemed like such a simple and insignificant design to put in arguably the most prominent place on your body. Guess there’s nothing “insignificant” about it after all. There’s definitely more to this story.
“Wow. And did they disown you?” Tia asks.
I fire a glare at my sister, but she’s glued to Val like Jarvis to his own reflection.
“Yeah,” he says in a flat tone.
More silence.
“They sound like dicks,” Ian adds, looking up from his game.
A smile tugs at Val’s lips as he shrugs. Mama doesn’t even yell at Ian for that one.
After several long seconds, she claps her hands and turns to me with an overly enthusiastic smile. “So tell us about the engagement! We want every gory detail.”
Well, crap.
