Page 98 of Her Goal
The next morning, I wake with a little tremor in my chest. I emailed Hudson and it wasn’t a hostile missive. Did he reply? I open my email and it’s just the usual collection of online shopping discounts, a hair product subscription renewal that I’ve been meaning to cancel, and a list of ten ways I can spice up my love life with mature singles in my area. No thanks.
I have work tonight, but Mami is starting early on the annual fall tamale-making extravaganza, which gets repeated forNoche Buenaon Christmas Eve and then again in the spring for Easter. Unlike the traditional kind from Colombia using banana leaves, we keep it local with corn husks.
When I get home, the scent of onions, pepper, garlic, and spices greets me at the door and the kitchen welcomes me with a marinated masa hug.
So does Mami, Valentina, Dani, Dad, and on down the assembly line. Rolling up my sleeves, I take my place at the counter beside my oldest sister. Music is playing, everyone is talking and laughing, and for a moment, I forget about checking my email every five minutes.
Then Dani asks, “Is this whole arranged marriage thing because Hudson needs his green card?”
I frown and gawk. “Mami, is that true?”
She shakes her head. “Hudson’s mother moved to this country from Sweden when she was pregnant. While I have no idea whether she filled out the paperwork—doubtful, thatwoman was as flaky as Marsha Simmons’s pie crust—he was born here, so it’s not a problem.”
I tell my sister, “Also, technically, that would be considered a marriage of convenience.”
“In that case, wouldn’t there need to be something in it for you?” Valentina asks.
Taking a defiant stance, mostly because Hudson never replied to my email, I say, “Well, I’m not marrying him.”
“I already took time off work,” Uncle Isaac calls from the family room.
Valentina adds, “Grant is looking forward to it.”
I tip my head to the side. “He is?”
“He’s from Boston, so he is the OG Robo fan.”
Huffing, I say, “Do you all realize how insane this is?”
“Your cousin Daphne was a mail-order bride,” Mami says.
“She was? And they’re still together?” Chuck asks, sampling the contents of the sauté pan on the stove.
Mami slaps his hand. “We don’t know the details, but Daphne and Eric are happily married, so do the means matter?”
“The funny thing is, Robo doesn’t seem terrified of this.” My brother gestures to the room at large.
Dani asks, “Is that funny or concerning?”
The mention of amailorder makes me burn with the desire to check my phone, however there’s an unspoken rule about no devices in the kitchen.
“Mami, I thought you didn’t like the boys next door,” Dani says.
“That Hunter was a bad apple, but Hudson was always so sweet. When you were all little, I’d see him with those big brown eyes and that song about the puppy in the window would always get stuck in my head.”
“So are you doing this because you want to give him a home?” I ask.
My mother doesn’t answer.
Uncle Vicente strolls through the kitchen, eyeing progress. My mother hands him an apron. He shrugs it on and, not missing a beat of the conversation topic, says, “We’re doing it for hockey.”
“How does that work?” I ask.
The discussion explodes with all the reasons why arranging my marriage with Hudson is a great idea.
Above the clamor, I say, “I don’t think this is common practice in Colombia, Sweden, and definitely not America.”
Dad glances over my shoulder and pecks me on the cheek. “It is in Smithland.”
