haven’t noticed Nikki is still rambling on about me getting cold feet. Please, my feet are boiling hot. That’s how sure I am.
“Paciencia, let her take in this moment.”
The voice is oddly familiar, a voice I’ve heard a million times before. I turn around slowly to see my mom standing behind me with her hands cupped to her heart.
“Mom?” I break out of my moment and run into her arms, the overwhelming familiarity of the warmth of her embrace comforts me more than I thought I needed.
I don’t dare to let go, holding onto her tight, not realizing the tears are streaming down my face. When I gather myself enough to pull away, I wipe my eyes able to see her clearly. My mother has always been a beautiful woman, and I have to admit as a child, I used to be jealous. I wanted to look exactly like her, and I remember scrutinizing the features I inherited from my dad.
My mother was born and bred in Cuba, a hot-tempered Latina as my dad would say. Her skin was nicely tanned all year round, and her frame naturally toned, but I would say that was because of her love of dancing, especially salsa. She has these mesmerizing hazel eyes, eyes her mother once told her were full of wisdom from the moment she was born. She hasn’t aged one bit—her secret papaya and something-or-other concoction clearly isn’t bullshit.
“Mi corazon,” she pauses, lifting my face to meet hers.
I’m met by her concerned stare, the one I witnessed several times when she would do readings for her friends.
“Estas con niño?” she asks, shocked.
Fuck, she asked if I’m with a child. I can’t hide the pregnancy any longer, especially since everyone knows besides her.
“Mom, please, we need to talk, and before you ask, no, I’m not marrying Lex because I am pregnant.”
She continues to examine me, taking her time to study my face. I know what she’s doing, trying to get some sort of insight as to what the hell is really going on. I remember what she once told me, so I stand still, smiling and reminiscing about all the happy times Lex and I shared—the past, the present, and to the future. Like an open book, she reads me. I see the look of concern fade, and once again, I can see that slight sparkle in her eyes, along with the shimmer of hope.
Placing her hands on mine, she squeezes them, and so much of me just wants to curl up in her embrace all night long as I did numerous times in my childhood. It used to be because I was scared of the tales she told, the ones without a book in her hands. They were stories she spoke from her heart, like a glimpse into a diary, and finally, in this moment, I understand. They were her tales. I look into her eyes, and I can see an aura of gray surrounding her, a dark cloud hovering over her beautiful soul. My mind’s on rewind, frantically trying to remember the stories. The dark angel, how he came in the night and took her to the woods where he stole what she was holding onto. Sometimes she called him the big bad wolf, depending on her mood.
But standing in front of her as an adult, I finally understand the ending of her story. Her heart had been stolen, by who, I have no idea.
“Mom… we need to talk. Who was he?”
“Corazon, we will. First, we have to celebrate your last night as a single woman.”
As soon as she says the words, Nikki pulls us along onto the back porch of Finn and Jen’s house. Colorful lanterns hang from the patio roof, above a long table decorated with hot pink flowers. But on closer inspection, they aren’t flowers, they are penis-shaped candies, and as my eyes dart to the tableware, I notice penis-shaped straws which sit in the glasses alongside penis-shaped plates. Where on earth did they get this from? I look above and hanging from the beams of the patio is a penis-shaped piñata. Oh, dear Lord.
“Um, Nik, there’s a hell of a lot of dick in here,” I complain.
“Woman, please, there can never be enough dick in here, at least for now. Here’s to the best bachelorette party ever.” She grabs her penis straw and takes a sip of her Long Island iced tea. “Ooh… nice.”
We laugh, and I make my way over to the buffet table. It