Page 48 of The Overdue Kiss

I spin to face him. “You were listening on the way here.”

“Of course I was. Next time, I think I prefer flash cards though.”

I’m grinning at the phrase “next time” when Mami spots me from down the hall. She raises her hands, her bracelets rattling around her wrists. “¡Mija!”

Then like a tidal wave, all my family floods into the room, speaking a mix of Spanish and English that I bet makes poor Des’s head spin. I try my best to translate, and suddenly everyone takes in the tall man I brought with me.

“Who is this?” Mami asks in Spanish, eyeing Des as another tía kisses his cheeks in introduction.

“This is Desmond. He’s one of my new friends from Rocosa.”

“What about Felipe?”

Des turns his head toward us, listening despite it still being in another language.

“Mami, this is not the time for this. We have barely stepped through the door before you mention his name. Why don’t you give my new friend a chance?”

Smiling at Des, I switch back to English and continue to introduce him to my surrounding family, who have all congregated at the entryway.

“Hola,” Des says, his voice cracking a bit from nerves.

“El es muy guapo,” my prima Nia says, winking at me.

“Thank you,” Des replies. “Luckily, calling someone handsome is one of the phrases I do remember.”

The room chuckles, and I beam a smile up at him. Even with his nerves, he’s doing great.

“All right, now everyone give the poor man some space,” Mami says, waving her hand around so the crowd begins to disperse back to the other room. “He doesn’t need all of you talking to him at once. I’m the birthday girl, so I get dibs first.”

Mami takes Des’s arm and guides him into the kitchen, rambling on about the different dishes she and her sisters have prepared. He glances over his shoulder at me just before she tugs him around the corner.

“Excuse me,” I say and don’t even think as I leave Nia mid-conversation to chase after him.

Delicious scents from my youth hit me as soon as I walk in the kitchen, and my stomach gurgles in response. At least seven women hover in the kitchen, preparing to set out the main courses. What’s left of the appetizers line the counter with suspicious Papi-sized chunks already eaten from each dish. Not that I’m worried about food running out. The Santos family makes enough to feed the whole neighborhood.

“You missed the family prayer. I couldn’t hold them off any longer.” Mami clucks her tongue.

“It was my fault,” Des says before I can respond. “I can pray with Maya before we eat, if that’s okay.”

She nods her approval, and once more for me, letting me know Des earned a point of favor.

Papi’s boisterous laugh ripples in from the adjoining living room. He’s chatting with Marco, Rafe, and a few friends still holding empty plates of food. Rafe at least has the decency to duck behind my papi, avoiding eye contact with me.Chicken.

“Maya, there’s my girl. She finally made it.”

Some of my parents’ church friends jump up when I walk over, rushing to kiss my cheeks in greeting. There are faces I don’t recognize, but that’s normal in this house. My parents are known for their get-togethers and inviting everyone they bump into.

As the night continues on, the noise level ramps up. Stories are shared over laughter, and the living room morphs into a bar as the music grows louder and family members start dancing in the big open space around the TV. As promised, I keep close to Des and translate for some of my older relatives. But really, I’m thankful for an excuse to stay at his side.

“Do you want a drink?” Papi shouts to Des over the thumping bass.

“I have one.” He lifts up his coke and winces a bit from the music. “I’m good.”

“I mean the good stuff from the bar. You want something?”

“Actually, I don’t drink alcohol,” Des says with smooth confidence.

Papi stutters a phrase in Spanish, his mustache wiggling.

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