brought some too,” my mother confirmed, and I congratulated myself on keeping my sigh on the inside. “One can never have enough guandules, Julita.”
I begged to differ.
“Whatever we don’t use we’ll make them for you and freeze them.” With that my grandmother sauntered into the kitchen, already wearing more casual, non-airport attire, and opened the freezer door.
“Ay, Yolanda.” My abuela called my mother over like she was about to report I had a human head in the freezer. “All she has is ice cream and vodka.” Tongue clicking ensued while they continued to inspect my deplorable living conditions, and I left them to go check on my dad.
I found him on my bed reading something on his phone.
“Hey, Papi.”
He looked up with his glasses perched on his nose, such a contrast from the fashionable sweater he had on. I laughed and pointed at his just-as-well-fitting jeans.
“Is Mami still picking out your outfits, Papi?” He gave me a look that said, “You know she is.”
“I lost that fight in ’93 after she caught me trying to wear white socks with dress shoes.” I chuckled remembering my mom’s astonishment whenever she talked about my dad’s utter lack of fashion sense.
“Ay, no, mija, ese hombre no parece Caribeño,” my mother always lamented. According to her, my dad had been born without the Latinx swag gene.
I sat down by him on the bed, taking off my own work shoes. “Thanks for the surprise, Papi. I’m glad you guys are here. I was missing home,” I confessed, although the fact they were here told me they had suspected as much.
“We missed you too, mija. You look good though. How did the visit from the executives go?” My dad never ever forgot anything related to my work. Especially the stressful stuff. He knew how things were, being a social worker himself. Even though he’d been a professor for almost twenty years, he was always looking to get grants for his research.
“It was good and weird.” I hadn’t talked to my parents about the connection between Rocco—who I’d told them a lot about—and my program’s potential funding issues. They would worry and start pitching solutions or ways to deal, and things were confusing enough already. But now that I had my dad face-to-face, I was ready to crack.
“Aqui estan.” My mom’s voice snapped us out of our quiet chat. This was always the dynamic in my house—my dad the quiet, calming presence, and my mom the whirlwind who was always up to something.
“Mi vida.”
His life. That had always been what my dad called my mother, and the way he looked at her, even after thirty-five years together, showed that it was exactly how he saw her. He patted the empty spot next to him on the bed. “Ven, amor. Come sit with us for a minute. Julia was about to tell me about her job event.”
My mom perked up at that, walking over from where she stood in the doorway to my room. She kissed my forehead before getting in the bed with Dad. “I’m going to the store with your abuela and Paula.” I was about to protest about the lines, but she held her hand up like she knew exactly what I was about to say. “I know it’s going to be busy, but Paula called the Mexican market that’s just a couple of miles away and they have everything we need. Now give me a quick update.”
I smiled at her, knowing she was itching to go and get the stuff for her feast together, but also didn’t want to leave without hearing what I’d been doing first. I started to speak and stopped when I realized I was about to start with Rocco. If I did, they’d know that there was more to him than just the fact that he was part of my new group of friends. They’d know, because they knew me.
I breathed in and regrouped. I realized after a moment that I had so much to say. Rocco was a big part of it, but there was a lot more. I had been building a life here. I could tell my parents about Salome and her badass research all over the Caribbean and East Africa, Dani’s Instagram game, Tariq’s drive and his cute and obvious crush on José. I wanted to tell them about how much I’d enjoyed the academy today and the families and how far the kids had come even in the three and a half months since school