Page 101 of Lessons in Forgiving
“We’re coming to America!” They said in unison, accents thick. “To see you finish school.”
Henry must’ve heard them even with my phone pressed against my ear tightly because he smiled, like he knew how much this meant to me. That the last time my parents were here had been four years ago—on the same day we had met.
“Will you be wearing one of those blue sacks?” Mom asked, put off by the thought.
My cheeks were beginning to hurt, my words were muffled for the same reason: the smile on my lips. “Yes.”
“Do youhaveto?”
“Mami!” I protested and could hear her laugh on the other end of the line. Some rustling followed, and then my dad’s voice rang thought the speaker again.
“Paula, it’s me again,” he said unnecessarily. “We have to go—” Again, some rustling, then, a little distant “Ay! Claro que si, María. Es cara!”
He complained about how expensive phone calls to the US were for another minute—one that would actually cost him two-hundred pesos, about three dollars.
“Lo siento, I’m back.” It followed, sounding like he had the phone back by his face. “We’re so proud of you, cariño. Our little businesswoman. Adiós!” In the background, I could hear Mom shout aNos vemos! before they hung up.
My smile had fallen since.
Businesswoman!
I’d been so focused on this profile and writing andjournalism—I’d forgotten that’s not what my parents think I’m doing at all.
They were still of the firm belief their daughter was about to get a business degree from HBU.Why wouldn’t they be?I’d given them no reason to suspect otherwise.
“Fuck,” I all but muttered, lips pulling into a tight grimace. I missed the easy smiles and hurting cheeks from five minutes ago.
“Hey—” Henry noticed, of course. Had probably heard them over the phone and put two and two together. His hand squeezed my shoulder, brushed a curl behind my ear very sweetly. But it’s not what I needed right now. I couldn’t do this with just Henry.
A second later, I called my best friend’s name so loudly, the brunette beside me flinched. I winced, throwing an apologetic look his way before Maeve burst into the room like she’d been prepared to do it.
She really just skimmed over Henry, like the sight was so normal she didn’t have to adjust to it. “What’s wrong?” Maeve’s brown eyes twitched into small slits of concern.
“My parents are coming for graduation.”
Her lips pulled upward first, tension falling off her like she would jump on my bed with ayay! And I could pinpoint the exact moment she got it. Everything in her expression fell. She muttered a “Fuck.” Sat on my bed instead of jumping and crisscrossed her legs.
For the half an hour after that, we’d tried coming up with a plan. Figured out the best ways to keep the lie going, to explain why it said journalism instead of business on my degree. That was the only solution here, after all.
I couldn’t just come out and tell themby the way, I’ve been lying to you for the past four years! You were paying a lot of money for a completely different degree! I’m a journalist now, surprise!
Regardless, Maeve suggested it. “Or… you know. You could just tell them the truth.”
I shook my head quickly, forcefully, if only to set my decision further into stone. “I cannot,” I huffed, letting my head fall onto Henry’s shoulder in defeat. Who was still here, when there was no kissing or touching or sex… ing involved.
He hadn’t said a single word yet.
“Paula,” Maeve whined, drawing my thoughts away from him. She looked and sounded like she’d been talking to a wall for the past thirty minutes. She kind of had. “You’ll have to tell them eventually! Might as well do it now?”
“Rip it off like a band-aid.” Henry nodded in agreement. My head lifted off his shoulder in betrayal.
“Thank you, Henry!” Maeve swept her hand in his direction. It was good to know she was aware of his presence—she hadn’t otherwise made that known.
At my glare, Henry’s hands shot up in defense, and he gave me a long look.
Maeve snickered. “Your boyfriend’s right.”
She’d only called him myboyfriendto make it weird. To tease and taunt me for not taking her advice. The knowing smirk on her lips told me. That and the fact that, well, Maeve always knew everything. Especially when it concerned me.
