I threw my chair back and took that golden opportunity to get away from Hector. I decided I should help clear the table too. Even though I’d always lived in a house with help who cooked for us and cleared our table, I had helped Ralphie and Buddy at their house.
I could do this.
Problem was, I had a cast on my arm. Not so easy to stack plates and carry platters still heavy with food even though everyone had finished eating (one thing was certain sure, Blanca was generous with her hospitality).
Still, it was either help or sit close to Hector’s side, everyone thinking we were something we were not or, we were not going to be after Hector and I had our talk.
I decided plates were my best bet so, balancing some plates and cutlery precariously, I followed Jet and Indy to the kitchen.
Disaster nearly struck when I hit Blanca’s kitchen, the plates teetered and some forks and knives fell to the floor.
Before it could get worse and I had to buy Blanca a new set of stoneware, Indy turned from depositing her load on the counter and deftly grabbed the plates in my hands as Blanca bent down and picked up the cutlery.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Chavez,” I said to her, feeling like an idiot.
She straightened and ordered, “Blanca, mi hija, you call me Blanca.” Then she put the cutlery in the sink and swept out.
But Jet was at the sink, rinsing dishes and for some bizarre reason she was giggling.
I didn’t want to know but I did want to know and not having the willpower to stop myself I asked, “What’s funny?”
She threw me a dazzling smile (Jet was Eddie’s fiancée, she was blonde, green-eyed and very pretty but when she smiled, she was a heart-stopper).
“Do you speak Spanish?” she asked.
I shook my head.
“Mi hija means, ‘my daughter’.”
Oh my.
Blanca just called me her daughter. Her daughter.
That could not be good.
I moved closer to Jet. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
Indy giggled a little as Jet handed her a rinsed plate to put in the dishwasher.
I started to organize the plates and cutlery on the counter so Jet could more easily rinse them.
“Do, um, Mexican-American women call people that for –?” I started.
“Nope,” Jet interrupted me. “I didn’t get an hija until…” She looked to the ceiling then finished, “I think it was the third time I saw her.”
“You win!” Indy cried and then burst out laughing. Without hesitation Jet laughed with her.
And at that moment, I couldn’t help it, they were so engaging (even though it seriously weirded me out, all of it), I laughed with them.
Blanca came in depositing more stuff and then started banging around the kitchen again, preparing to serve dessert.
“Can I do something?” I asked her.
“Sí, you can make the coffee,” Blanca answered and I was relieved. I could definitely make coffee and do it one-handed. I’d had loads of practice at that at Buddy and Ralphie’s place.
She showed me where to find the coffee stuff then swept out again, carrying dessert plates.