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Some things she had no way of foreseeing.
She wouldn’t have it any other way, though. It made her cherish life’s most treasured moments all the more.
Like, she never in her wildest imagination would have expected herself there, at that moment, standing at the screen door waiting for what she thought was lost to her so long ago.
She gained so much back, and she doesn’t know what she did to deserve it, but she’s thankful all the same.
An old beater came into sight, speeding down the open road kicking snow up everywhere. She hugged the parka around herself tighter, the chill in the air setting in as puffs of her breath spurted out in a cloud with each exhale.
If she smiled any harder her face would split in half, or maybe it was the cold that made it feel that way, but she hadn’t felt this happy in a long time.
The car pulled into the driveway with a jerked halt, and she bounded down the stairs, snow crunching beneath her feet before stopping at the edge of the stairs and trying to rein herself in.
To Maria’s comfort, she was just as enthused. The car door swung up with wild abandon, and all Maria saw was a mess of dark hair beneath a poofy hat that looked oddly familiar and made her chuckle.
That bright smile that haunted her dreams and followed her everywhere, burned in her memory, and that familiar laugh.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Rosa teased. She trudged through the snow with no preamble or embarrassment and threw herself into Maria’s arms without question.
Maria squeezed her tight. It’s been years, and she still can’t stop herself from clinging to her best friend as if she’ll never see her again.
She held her like she’d slip from her fingertips if she blinks – like if she held her tight enough, she wouldn’t lose her again. But Rosa always understood because she hugged her the same.
“You’re such a little shit, ” Maria mumbled into Rosa’s neck. She smelled like leather and peppermint, and she was warm and alive, and there. “That joke has gotten old.”
“Not for me,” Rosa quipped. She pressed a kiss to Maria’s cheek and pulled herself back, a sparkle in her eye that Maria never thought she’d see.
“It’s been four years, Rosa,” she snorted. She headed around back to grab Rosa’s bags.
“I know. You’re getting old.”
“We’re getting old,” Maria countered.
“You’re the one who’s over the hill now,” Rosa slung her bag over her shoulder with a smirk.
“You say that like you didn’t use to be older,” she growled with no heat.
It had been years since Rosa rose from the dead like something out of a supernatural film, but she still hadn’t fully grown accustomed to the differences. They made due in the end, but their friendship had evolved into something different and unexpected.
She felt like she missed out on the girl who was her best friend, and instead, she got a little sister in return. Their boundaries were off; their experiences different.
Life flowed through them, and she thanked the universe for that, but life experience still kept them apart. She was right there in front of her, but sometimes they felt worlds apart.
“How are you doing,” she asked softly, knowing and trusting the answer, but asking anyway. She couldn’t not ask it.
It took some time before Rosa stopped responding to the inquiries with anger and accepted them for what they were.
“I’m great, Maria,” Rosa said softly and with reassurance. She squeezed Maria’s arms, looked her dead in the eye, and didn’t look away. “I really am.”
She nodded content with the response, for now. The chill was setting in, and snowflakes clung to Rosa’s hair – her cheeks red.
“I would have come and picked you up from the airport, you know?” She called over her shoulder as they climbed the stairs and stood in front of the screendoor.
“It’s cute how you believe you would’ve had the time. Besides, I had some stops to make,” she said cryptically. Maria didn’t want to guess what those were, but before she had a moment to respond, her mother was at the door.
“I felt you here,” Mimi’s voice was soft and soothing, serene. She stared at Rosa as if she was looking through her before enveloping her in that way only Mimi can.
She looked on, but the two women didn’t say anything. They clung to each other as if there was a tether between them, and Maria imagined there probably was.
She could never comprehend the full extent of Rosa and Mimi’s bond. It was bone-deep. She asked her mom once, but Mimi only smiled at her – kissed her on her forehead and shrugged, and she knew Mimi probably didn’t have the words for it either.
Even then, she looked on, and Rosa and Mimi were on some other wavelength silently communicating with each other. What? She couldn’t possibly know.
When she thought back, it made perfect sense that Mimi was the only one who knew Rosa wasn’t gone for good before any of the rest of them did.
She saw Rosa everywhere, bits and pieces of her spirit – in the bricks of the Wild Pony, a stretch of highway through the desert, and in Liz’s eyes.
The secret to unlocking Rosa – to unlocking a lot of things lay in her mother’s mind, fragments, and bits scattered, and shattered, seemingly disconnected and nonsensical.
She thought her mother was broken, for years, and she couldn’t figure out how to fix her. She just wanted to fix her and get her mother back, the person she loved most in the world.
And now, she did. She had her back, intact and capable, and some days, the guilt ate away at her. But most days, most days, she was just thankful to have her back.
It’s been four years, and she can’t believe her luck. She didn’t think Mimi coming back to her was a possibility. She gave up hope– had to file it away and be practical, but then, the two most important people in her life returned to her, and the connection was somehow each other.
“You’re fretting, baby girl, I can see it in your eyes,” Mimi pulled away from Rosa and wrapped her arms around Maria tight, her hair brushing against her cheek. “Let’s get inside. Come on now. It’s too cold.”
The warmth of their home was enough to knock you over. It was a stark contrast from the chill outside. The smell of cinnamon and spices permeated the air, baked yams, posole, and ham – a myriad of scents wafting in from their tiny kitchen.
And the music made her smile. She could see the moment Rosa recognized the familiar sounds – the way her lips quirked up in a fond smile as they neared the kitchen and the crooning in Spanish got louder.
Arturo was living his best life in his element. He was singing and dancing around the kitchen, a little two-step as he used to Sundays at the Crashdown.
He was vigorously stirring some of his secret sauce on the stovetop, his back turned to all of them, as he shook and shimmied to the music.
“Mimi, querida, come taste this,” he bellowed, not aware they were all behind them. “It’s magic; the best yet.”
He dipped the wooden spoon deep into the pot, pulled it out and blew before turning around, and nearly jumped in surprise.
“Papi,” Rosa breathed, her face lighting up like the Christmas tree in the front room.
“Mija,” he choked out, and Rosa was bounding to him the way she used to do when she was small.
Maria couldn’t hide her smile. A lot had changed over the years, but nothing brought her more joy than seeing the progress Rosa and Arturo had made.
It was bumpy for a while, but time and distance made some of their issues fade away, and while they had a lot to work through, the tension that used to be between them when she was younger diminished.
“You’re finally home,” he cried out. He hugged her tight, and the only thing that took her out of watching the sweet father/daughter moment was Mimi wrapping her arms around her too.
The front door opened and shut, a gust of cold air wafting through, loud stomping followed by Liz’s voice.
“Ay estupido, I had to go to four stores to find cranberry sauce, but the grocer was trying to hide them in the back. Why the hell are you hiding them in the back? Just give them to me, dios, and the traffic was out of control, why are so many people on the road on Christmas, don’t they have famil–ROSA!”
Liz’s eyes grew wide as they fell on her sister, and she dropped her puffy coat on the floor right there and then.
She was a flash of all dark hair and red lipstick, hurling herself at her sister in a tight hug, their bodies melding together until they were practically one person.
“You’re back,” Liz breathed into her sister’s neck. “You’re finally back,” she cried into her neck.
“Liz, you saw me over the summer,” Rosa laughed, attempting to extricate herself from her sister’s tight grip.
“That was months ago,” Liz happy sobbed. “I didn’t think you were going to make it this year. You said you wanted to go to Paris,” she sniffled into her older/younger sister’s neck.
“I did Paris in October. There was no way I was missing you guys for Christmas,” Rosa pulled Liz to the couch as they caught up, a lively chat of Spanglish flowing between them with ease.
Maria always marveled at how they fell into place – clicked like they transcended time, slipped into the familiarity of sisterhood that she always was on the outside of.
The truth is, she loved Rosa with everything in her, but she still hadn’t adjusted. And sometimes she felt on the outside of the Ortecho sister magic.
As if sensing her feelings, Rosa reached out without even looking, summoned for Maria wiggling her fingers.
“I have to go check–” she started, a bout of emotion caught in her throat.
“Get your fucking ass over here, hermana,” Rosa demanded firm and determined, her dark eyes meeting Maria as if she could see right through to the core of her.
It’s possible she could.
She crossed the room, laced her fingers with Rosa’s until the younger girl tugged, pulling Maria down smack dab in the middle of her and Liz.
Rosa pressed her head into the side of Maria’s shoulder, and Liz did much the same, and they spent a few long moments simply breathing and existing at this moment with one another.
“I know you guys worry about me,” Rosa said softly. “But I swear, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. But part of that is getting to do what I love, and what I love is traveling, seeing the world this…” she pulled the neck of her dark sweater down until her shoulder was exposed, and revealed her latest tattoo.
It was vibrant colors, and swirls, some sort of constellation Maria wasn’t familiar with, but seemingly all Rosa.
“Papa still thinks you’re in art school,” Liz mumbled. “If he finds out the truth –”
“It’s a good thing he won’t then, right?” Rosa shot Liz a warning look and that same rebellious smile she always had.
“I loved art school, but I feel like I learn more from traveling. I’m free to explore what I like, not the pretentious white-washed shit, and tattooing has taken me places I never dreamed about. I’m really good, you know.”
“Including famous rockstars?” Maria asked, her brow raised. “You’re getting close to the lead singer, I’ve noticed.”
“More like his drummer. She’s my type these days,” Rosa winked.
“I’m sorry, what am I missing here? You’ve been tattooing celebrities? Dating musicians? And you haven’t shared any of this with me?” Liz was rightfully affronted.
A small part of Maria was happy she still shared secrets with her best friend that Liz didn’t know about. Rosa must have sensed it since she squeezed her hand and shook her head in amusement at her glee.
“Don’t you follow her on Instagram?”
“She only posts pictures of artwork and tattoos!” Liz exclaimed, still shocked.
“That’s her professional Instagram, Liz.”
“Why did nobody tell me this?” Liz mumbled.
“You and that Luddite boyfriend of yours don’t do social media, so what difference does it make?” Rosa chuckled.
“Max is on Instagram,” Liz couldn’t help but defend him.
“Yeah, I saw. They’re all pictures of you, with the occasional selfie of him in a hat sprinkled in. Please, tell him that the sheriff hat works, but the baseball caps do not. And if he needs some pointers, maybe Kyle can help him with that,” Rosa snorted.
“Your brother does love his thirst trap photos,” she sighed. “I never complain.”
“OK, first of all, eww,” Rosa shuddered. “Second of all,” her voice trailed off as she heard Mimi giggle as Arturo took her for a spin around the kitchen. “What’s going on there?”
Maria and Liz exchanged a silent look that did not go unnoticed by Rosa. Both of them shrugged at the same time.
“We don’t know,” she said after a while. “Haven’t been able to define it, and they don’t seem interested in defining it either,” she mused.
The truth was, Arturo was the person who helped her the most in the aftermath of her mother coming to. Hell, he helped before.
He would visit her mother at the adult facility every week until the day she was miraculously lucid.
He was the one who got her settled into life while Maria was running the Pony. p> A couple of years ago, the three of them pooled their resources. Well, she and Arturo did, and they moved into that very house in the desert away from town for a sliver of solace.
They all had their own rooms, and Arturo and Mimi were always seemingly platonic, but there’s a companionship between the two of them, that she could never explain.
She and Liz stayed up nights trying to figure it out and how they felt about it, but in the end, Mimi and Arturo made each other happy, and that was enough for them.
However, it didn’t stop them from noticing that their parents had gotten decidedly closer than ever before.
“If we’re making this sisterhood official, I’m not going to complain about it,” Rosa joked with a smile.
She grabbed Maria’s hand, tangled their fingers together, her skin stained with ink and henna, and Maria’s gold jewelry on every finger.
“She looks happy,” she nodded in Mimi’s direction as she and Arturo bumped each other out of the way while cooking. “My question, is when will you be?”
“Rosa,” Liz purred, rolling the “r” for all it was worth.
Rosa promptly ignored Liz.
“Oh, she’s definitely back,” Maria flashed a smile. She attempted to hide the fact that Rosa’s words struck a nerve.
“Liz minces words, Maria. I don’t.”
“It’s called tact, Rosa,” Liz side-eyed her sister in sister in spectacular fashion, and she stifled a chuckle.
“Who needs tact with family? Life’s too damn short for that shit,” Rosa snipped back.
“You’re never going to stop reminding us, are you?” Liz was only half teasing, but Maria never missed the panic in her eyes when she spoke about anything referencing death, and the years they spent without her.
“When you get second chances, you take them,” Rosa responded.
The two sisters let the silence settle between them, and Maria almost thought she was spared when Rosa directed her attention back to her.
“Which is why I need you to take advantage of your second chance, Maria,” Rosa said firmly. There was that hard glint in her eye that told Maria she meant business.
“I don’t know what you mean,” her voice was clipped, and she knew it. Tears stung the back of her eyes.
“Don’t give me that. I know better,” Rosa’s hand in hers was warm, real, alive, and her grip was tight.
“You were supposed to meet me in Rio –”
“Something came up,” she contested unconvincingly.
“You came up. You’re fearless, Maria. Bold and vibrant. The world is infinite, and so are you–”
“Did you read that in a fortune cookie in Beijing?”
“San Francisco actually,” Rosa deadpanned ignoring her snort. “It’s been three years, Maria. Mimi is fine. You have to stop putting your life on hold, bracing for the worst to happen again, and just live it.”
She hugged herself, the lump in her throat keeping her from responding.
“I’m sorry,” Rosa sighed. “I love you, and I just want you to be happy. You’re still tethered to that bar and to this town like your whole life isn’t ahead of you. You’re still hiding behind Mimi, and she doesn’t want that. I know it.”
She nodded curtly, springing from their cuddle pile on the couch and running her hands down what she come to refer to as her favorite holiday jeans.
She had the urge to make herself busy but knew her mom and Arturo would only kick her out of the kitchen.
“Alexa,” she called out sure and resolute. “Play Maria’s mix.”
Alexa followed her direction, and shortly after, the living room flooded with music.
She started dancing, wild and free, spinning herself into circles and laughing hard enough to release the tension that she was feeling.
The Ortecho sisters glanced at each other before heaving themselves from the couch and joining her.
She opened her eyes and saw Rosa staring at her inquisitively, and she grabbed her hand, pulled her close until their foreheads were touching, and then spun her around.
Rosa smiled, somewhat relieved that Maria wasn’t upset with her.
She turned to Liz, twirled her around like they were eight playing ballerinas in their socks on the kitchen tile of the Crashdown.
She sang, and they laughed and twirled, and she breathed. Her heart always felt lighter when there was music involved.
She stilled when warm hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. The same hands that would caress her face before pulling her in for quick kisses, the same palms that pressed against her forehead when she was sick.
Mimi tucked her head into Maria’s neck before pushing her outward and spinning her back in until they were facing each other. Foreheads pressed against each other as her mother smiled at her.
She could never get enough of that smile, the sparkle in her eye, the way Mimi could light up a room.
“You know the rules, baby girl,” she grinned. “No dance parties without me.”
Mimi’s skirt flared out with every move, her jingle bell earrings tinkling, and she chuckled thinking about the years she spent thinking of her as her very own Ms. Frizzles.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Arturo dipping Rosa beneath the mistletoe and smacking a wet kiss to her forehead while Liz giggled.
The DeLuca Ortecho Christmas was going well.
They giggled and danced until their heart’s content before Arturo needed a breather.
“OK, I need water. Now, which one of you is going to help me finish up the tamales?”
“Oh, you need help now, old man?” Rosa quipped.
“You insult me? You … woman child?” Arturo was proud of himself for his witty retort and beamed at the laughter he elicited.
“I was going to help you and share the spices I brought from Guatemala, but if your feelings are hurt–”
“Nevermind my feelings, tell me about these spices.” They disappeared with Liz in tow reminding Arturo of the last time Rosa was anywhere near a kitchen.
Mimi turned to her smiling warmly. “You going to tell me what’s up? I know a dance it out when I see it.”
“Really? A Grey’s joke, mom?”
“Hey, I had a lot of catching up to do.”
They sprawled across the floor catching their breaths, heads sticking beneath the tree like they used to do when she was young.
Mimi told her each bulb was like a star, and they would lie there and talk for hours.
“Your energy is all mixed up. It’s all muddled. Highs and lows.”
“You’re breaking the rules,” she whispered softly.
“I’m not reading your future, just your energy.”
She pulled a face.
“Rosa thinks I’m hiding behind you. She thinks I’m not living my life because I’m afraid of … I’m afraid of –”
“Losing me again?” Mimi supplied. She tsked and cooed words and sounds of reassurance and soothing.
Maria sank into it, burrowed herself into her mother’s embrace and sighed.
“Is she right?” Mimi murmured into her hair. “Are you putting your life on hold because of me? You know I don’t want that. I’m OK, honey. I won’t lie and tell you I’ll never leave you again, but I’m perfect right now, and the now is what matters.”
She sniffled a bit, eyes wet and voice thick. “I don’t know,” she smiled when Mimi’s lips brushed across her hairline. “Maybe she is, but …”
“But what, baby?” Mimi brushed Maria’s hair aside absentmindedly and pressed another kiss to her hair while staring at the twinkle lights with childlike awe she never lost.
“But I mostly like making up for old times,” Maria admitted. “It’s not just that I’m afraid you’ll slip into darkness again or that I can’t turn it off. It’s …” she sighed. “It sounds selfish, but I missed being taken care of, and I’m not ready to let that go yet.”
The admission was something she felt but didn’t know how to verbalize until that very moment. She wouldn’t have been able to hide it from her mother for long, though.
Mimi always saw through her. It was her way, some combination of mother’s intuition and her gift and abilities.
“As long as I’m able, I’ll never stop taking care of you,” Mimi’s voice was liquid steel as tears flowed freely down her face.
“I wasn’t myself for years. I know that, and time was stolen from us. I’ll never let that happen again,” she cupped Maria’s cheeks, her hands burning hot into Maria’s skin sealing the promise.
“But the best of me was always you, Maria. As long as you exist, so do I. My heartbeat is outside of my chest, she’s fearless and strong. She’s kind, smart, and beautiful.
“She’s soft and gentle, and she’s the very best of me, and if you think for a minute I won’t care for her, protect her, fight for her … honey, I’ll never stop taking care of you, but if you need extra TLC, then you have it. I’ll love you so much, I’ll smother you.”
Maria laughed, comforting warmth in her chest at her mother’s words.
“That won’t stop, but I need you to take life by the reins and follow your heart’s desires, too.”
“I know, mom,” she sighed. “I’m working on it. I swear.”
“Good girl.”
Nonstop swearing is what tipped them off something had gone awry. It still amused her to no end that Arturo had the mouth of a sailor. He was only rivaled by Rosa who upped her game with a few new languages.
She and Mimi sat up only to be met with the smell of smoke.
Liz ran in breathless with flour streaks across her face. “Alright, MiMar, where’s the extinguisher?”
Maria and Mimi looked at each other and groaned.
–
A half-hour later the kitchen was coated with filmy white residue, and she was pretty certain Arturo hadn’t been that angry since the time she and Rosa snuck out the house for a protest in seventh grade.
“He’s hangry,” Liz whispered beside her. “He fasts all day in preparation for Christmas dinner.”
“I don’t understand what happened,” Arturo swore under his breath. “Didn’t that boy with the brillo pad head fix the oven?”
Rosa’s snort was unmatched, and no matter how much time had past, there was still no love lost between her and their extraterrestrial friends, even when they were more like family now.
Before she could respond, the power went out.
“You have got to fucking be kidding me,” Rosa groaned.
Liz checked outside and then pulled up her phone. “Seems to be the whole area.”
“Liz, I swear to God, if you gave Max a sneak peek of your new lingerie, and he lost his shit like a 13-year-old boy watching porn, and now we have to sit through a Christmas blackout–”
“Rosa!” Liz turned several shades of red, but it still didn’t match her father’s.
“I– don’t really want to hear this, no…” Arturo muttered under his breath turning to a tray of mostly burnt empanadas and half-cooked enchilada.
“I do,” Mimi chimed in. She waved her hands around. “I can light candles, and I have some lanterns. So, what did he say when he saw you?”
As usual, her mother was a bit too gleeful hearing about someone else’s sex life, particularly for someone who was mum about her own.
Although, she’s sure she doesn’t want to know the details.
“It wasn’t me– Max, not this time,” Liz stammered. “We haven’t done that since Memorial day.”
“Because it was the perfect holiday to shut down the whole town with a bang… your bang,” Maria teased.
“I expect this from Rosa. I don’t need you ganging up on me too.”
“They’re just jealous, honey,” Mimi hugged Liz as they went around the room lighting candles. “I mean, I’ve seen who you’re working with, and I’m jealous.”
Arturo cleared his throat. “Alright my lovely ladies. We’ll have to make do with this.”
He presented a platter of food, the mostly cooked enchiladas with his special sauce, overcooked empanadas, a small pot of collard greens, some posole, Mimi’s test pie, and her classic red velvet cake.
“Not a bad spread, Papi, Mimi, “Liz nodded in thanks, her face illuminated by the candle near her plate in front of her.
Arturo grunted.
"Papi?”
“That Max, he’s a good boy. And I’m not judging you, Elizabeth. But…” Arturo waved his hands at their smorgasbord. “He needs to control himself better.”
“Papi,” Liz turned beet red ignoring Rosa’s laughter. She couldn’t blame Rosa. She was trying not to laugh, too.
“I didn’t say anything when he blew a fuse at the Crashdown a few months ago. I know what you two were …”
“Dios, Papi, I–” Liz interjected mortified.
She wasn’t sure, but she was pretty sure Rosa had buried her head into the tablecloth to stifle her laughter, and Mimi’s hand darted across the table to pat Arturo’s in a halfhearted attempt to make him shush.
“Mija, I understand you kids, you,” his voice lowered. “Sexy text pictures of yourself…”
Rosa squeaked.
“… but can you maybe not rile him up like this on the Lord’s day? It’s a time for family and food, and right now I can’t actually see my family or enjoy all the food I planned. Maybe think about these things.”
“He didn’t– we weren’t– it’s not him, Dad. Can we just bless the food and eat please?”
“I just want to say,” Rosa started. She ignored the wary expression half the table shot her way.
“I just want to say I’m thankful for moments like this. I never envisioned my future, stopped believing I would have one.”
Arturo’s voice hitched, and Mimi patted his hand.
“For a while, a long while, I didn’t, ” her voice got that distant tone that Maria suspected was Rosa’s way of detaching and coping. “But I would die a thousand deaths if I knew it would lead to this.
"I can’t imagine anything better than spending the holiday with my family. I know I didn’t always appreciate you before, but I’ll never be able to explain how much I love you all. I’m happy, healthy, alive, and sober. And maybe everything I went through was worth it for moments like this.”
Her eyes were blurry, but from what she could see, so were everyone else’s.
She felt Mimi grab her hand and squeeze it, words unspoken because they never envisioned this either.
Her family was small, and it was different, but this was it. They were it. It was hers.
And it took her some years to realize that. Longer to appreciate how thankful she was.
Because moments like those were ones she dreamed of.
She said it before, the first time she squeezed Rosa tight after reuniting with her for the first time in a decade, and Rosa, the little shit, she remembered.
Their eyes met over the table as Rosa hugged Liz, and then others expressed their gratitude as well.
“Alright, people,” Mimi dabbed at her eyes. “If we don’t dig in, the food will get cold, and there’s no way of warming it up.”
They dug in. The conversation was light and the laughs flowed freely. They spoke of memories old and new. She couldn’t remember the last time the holidays felt so warm, even in the dark, with burnt food, and a chill creeping in.
Arturo was midway through a story from when he was a boy when they heard scratching and scuffing at the door.
Their eyes met around the table a sense of panic, worry, and bone-deep fatigue after years of being on guard.
Arturo grabbed the baseball bat Mimi kept by the stairs. She slipped a knife beneath the sleeve of her shirt, and she doesn’t even want to know what Rosa had.
They huddled together, creeping toward the front door. Liz peeked out the window but all she saw was dark shadows.
The door blew open with the wind, and Arturo raised the bat, just about to let it down when she shouted at him to stop just above their visitor’s own yell.
“It’s Kyle!” She recognized the familiar scent of his aftershave and the energy he radiated – a deep green.
“It’s me, dammit,” Kyle dropped his arm from a protective stance over his face.“It’s just me.”
“Maybe we knew that and still wanted to bash your face in,” Rosa teased.
“Can it, squirt,” Kyle replied his lips turned up in a smirk.
“Fuck you,” Rosa quipped back with no heat.
“Rosa, language,” Arturo chastised.
Rosa rolled her eyes but hugged her brother anyway. An exchange of words flowed between them the others weren’t privy to.
Of all the hard changes made and adaptations, the Valentis accepting each other as siblings was the easiest.
Their relationship was fairly easy, like traditional older and younger siblings in the height of adolescence – love, affection, annoyance, and chiding.
They rotated the roles at will, but as much as a stink Rosa put up she loved being the annoying little sister.
“I thought the days of you trying to kill me were over,” Kyle teased Arturo as he hugged him.
“I like to keep you on your toes.”
“I brought mom’s coquito,” he held up two jugs. “One virgin, of course.” He winked at Rosa and handed them to Mimi after embracing her warmly and exchanging kisses.
“You know if you led with that, we wouldn’t have tried to attack you, right?” She slipped the knife down her sleeve and laughed at the way his eyes lit up.
He hugged her and whispered in her ear. “So, where’s the food?”
“Ah,” Maria laughed. “So that’s why you really came,” she headed to the dining room and he eagerly followed.
“I came because I love you guys, and yeah, okay, for Mimi’s red velvet cake, but I’ll happily build up to that with whatever else you have lying around.”
“Didn’t you eat at home, asshole?” Rosa’s words were contradicted by her handing him a plate.
“Mom went on a cruise this year. I was left to my own devices,” he shoveled a tamale into his mouth and hummed. “I didn’t burn down the kitchen, though.”
“Weren’t you eating at your girlfriend’s house?” Rosa asked around a mouthful of cake.
“I’m sorry, you have a girlfriend now?” Liz asked.
“And you didn’t tell us?” She added. “Kyle, I’m a bit hurt. You know how much I love knowing these things.”
“These enchiladas aren’t cooked all the way through, you know,” Kyle deflected.
“I would tell you to screw off, young man, but this coquito is divine,” Arturo raised his glass, perfectly content.
“Food at this girlfriend’s house wasn’t the best, I’m gathering?” Liz snorted as Kyle shoved more food into his mouth as if he hadn’t eaten in hours.
“Oh, it was … fine, it just, um, I –” he stammered.
“No flavor, right? Gringos,” Rosa snorted.
“Rosa,” Mimi admonished, though she couldn’t help chuckling to herself.
“What? The only person there who knows how to cook well is –”
“Please, shut up, Rosa!” Kyle glared at her. “ Or else I won’t give you your Christmas present.”
“Oh, you actually got me one this year?” Rosa shot back.
“Just because you didn’t like what I gave you last year doesn’t mean I never gave you one.”
“Well, I had gifts for you all, but it required power. Since someone blew out the whole town, I’m going to have to hold off,” Arturo grumbled.
“Papi, I told you, Max didn’t do it this time,” Liz sighed.
Kyle snorted. “Oh he totally did,” he sliced a hunk of red velvet cake and kissed Mimi’s cheek. “I’ve been craving this all day.”
Mimi patted his cheek affectionately, and Maria rolled her eyes. Her mother affected nearly every guy she had ever known her entire life.
“What do you mean Max did it? How do you know?” Liz was affronted.
“Oh, I was there when he blew his gasket, and it was not –” he cut himself off when everyone turned to stare at him.
“Why were you with him? Liz asked.
"What worked him up so much, poor boy?” Mimi asked concerned. “Oh shit, he finally knows, huh?” Rosa smirked. “I knew it,” Arturo added triumphantly.
“Kyle,” she tried to keep herself from laughing as the realization hit her. “You’re the reason he flipped out again, aren’t you?”
Kyle looked sheepishly around the room.
“Kyle,” Liz prodded, annoyed that she was one of the few who hadn’t figured it out. “How did you set Max off so badly that he blew out the power in the entire town?”
“Maybe, I should go,” Kyle responded, hesitant.
“KYLE!”
“He found out who my girlfriend is,” he answered simply. “It was sort of a meet the family dinner,” he shrugged.
“You’re dating fucking Isobel Evans?!” Liz shrieked. “And no one told me this?!”
Rosa nearly choked on her coquito. “Oh, baby. Oh honey, no.”
Maria glanced at Mimi, realization hitting them at the same time. They both found it best to keep their mouths shut.
Arturo happily refilled his glass of coquito and sat back enjoying the drama.
“Kyle…”
“Anyone want any more cake? I’m going to get some more cake.” He shuffled into the next room with Liz on his heels, as the others broke out into laughter.
Yes, for better and worse, through ups and downs, she dreamed of nights like this. She never thought she would have them again, but she was happy that she did.
Her family was messy and weird, and their experiences were unlike anyone she’s ever known, but they were hers, and she was glad to have them back.
“See,” her mother whispered in her ear, coming up behind her and wrapping her in a warm embrace. “We’re OK now, baby.” She kissed Maria’s temple as they stared at everyone around them. “You can breathe now.”
So she did.