Page 72 of Hula Girl

“You could always come.” The words come out of my mouth before I can process what I’m saying. “You could get out from under the corporate legal machinations with all its sexism and racism and open up your own practice. Be your own boss. And have all the control over your career. In Maui.”

I watch as Ava’s eyebrows come together in confusion. “Ford, that’s crazy.”

“A little,” I admit. “But—”

“Wejustmet,” she says.

Shit. What have I done? Did I just suggest that Ava move to Maui to be with me? In front of hermother.

I laugh, and it comes out forced, even to my ears. “I was just throwing out possibilities. You should come, too, Rafaela.” I pat my stomach. “I clearly cannot get enough of your enchiladas.”

Rafaela’s mouth quivers, telling me she’s fighting off a laugh. And that’s when I know I’ve screwed up. She knows her daughter well enough to understand that my attempt to backtrack isn’t going to get me anywhere.

“Possibilities?” Ava says, incredulous. “No, what you’re doing is casually suggesting I give up my whole world. For a man I barely know. You’re seriously suggesting that I give up on the place I’ve earned at my law firm? I have put mylifeinto this career.”

It’s irrational, but I can’t help how much her quick dismissal of me as someone she “barely knows” stings. Yes, this thing of ours has been a whirlwind, but it was more than some surface-level connection almost as soon as we met. We’ve sharedrealconfidences with each other. And now she’s ready to disregard all that. She’d rather pull up her walls and close herself off than give it a chance to be something real.

Because I have that annoying habit of saying things when I shouldn’t, I push the issue, focusing on the thing I know she cares about more than almost anything else: her career.

“And you’re saying that there’s no other way to have a career, but there is. You don’thaveto follow that path to be satisfied with your work.”

“Says the man who walked away from everything in order to do nothing,” she snaps back.

“Ouch,” I half-moan, half-laugh. That characterization hurts, but at the same time, I can’t help but admire her fighting spirit. She’s tough and sexy at the same time. That combination has left me hesitating to respond, even as we stare at each other.

“Mija, did I ever tell you how I met your father?”

Ava and I break eye contact as we turn to Rafaela, her apparent non-sequitur catching us both off-guard.

“Uh, yeah,” Ava says, clearly confused. “You met him in Mexico. In Zacatecas, the town where you’re both from.”

“Si, very much by chance, in fact. We were both at El Jardín—” She stops and looks at me. “That’s a sort of town square, near the church. There are some nice trees for shade, and everyone ends up there as the evenings cool off. It becomes a marketplace for homemade food. The kids run around and play. The adults gossip and hope to run into friends.”

“It’s a very nice spot,” Ava agrees. “But, I’m not sure—”

“Your father and I ran into each other. Like, actually bumped into each other as he was turning away from gettinghorchataas I was passing by. He spilled it all over me.” She laughs at the memory. “He was always a little clumsy.”

“Oh,that’swhy you’d always joke with him about not spilling thehorchata!” Ava says.

“Oh yes. That was our running joke.”

“I love that,” I say.

Rafaela smiles, acknowledging me. “That’s all it took for us, is what I’m saying. He spilled thehorchataand spent the rest of the night apologizing and somehow convincing me not to run home to change. We were … drawn together after that. It was truly hard to pull us apart.”

“Aw, that story makes me so happy,” Ava says, her eyes shimmering with tears.

“The only problem was that he was planning on moving to America less than two weeks after we met. I thought we had no chance.”

“No, but you moved here together. After you were married in Zacatecas,” Ava says, clearly trying to sort out her recollection of her parents’ love story.

“That’s true,” Rafaela says. “But only because he broke down a few days before he was due to leave and told me he thought the universe had put us in each other’s paths,horchataand all.” She laughs. “He said it was crazy, but he was sure he had fallen in love and that if I took a chance by marrying him and coming with him to America, he would make me happy for the rest of my life.”

I hand Ava a clean napkin to wipe the tears she’s no longer able to fight.

“And so, I did. I loved him, too, of course. But I also knew that he used the word ‘chance’ well, because isn’t that what we all do when we fall in love? We take a chance, hoping that our hearts will be cared for by that other person.” She takes a deep breath and stares up at the sky. “I’m so glad I took that chance. It wasn’t the longest life with him, but I can’t imagine ever having a better one.”

“Oh, Mama,” Ava says and scoots her chair closer, so she can hug her.

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