Page 21 of If the Suit Fits
“I allowed her to bring her emotional support pet, didn’t I?” I leave her in my dust and follow the delicious scent of home cooking through my childhood home and into a kitchen bursting with people. With smells and sounds and music and a collective greeting when I move through the doorway. “Mamá Abuela.” I focus on our matriarch first. The birthday girl and the guest of honor, bypassing all others until I step up in front of the woman gracefully heading toward her centenary, yet still as beautiful today as she was in her youth. “Hi, Mamá.”
“Bello.” She reaches out with shaking hands, tissue-paper thin skin and long, red nails glistening under the overhead lights. Cupping my face, she draws me in and presses a kiss on each cheek. But of course, her all-seeing eyes flicker to a terrified Mel. “Interesante.”
I can’t help the broad smirk stretching across my face. “Important. How are you feeling, Mamá? Good?”
“Si.” She releases me, which gives everyone else permission to go about their business. “I’m good, Bello. Healthy.”
“Nico.” My mom steps in next and slides under my arm, crushing me in a hug only she knows how to give. “You said she was beautiful. But you didn’t say she was breathtaking.”
“I didn’t mention that?” I extend my hand, forcing Mel to bebrave and cross the six feet that separate us. “So odd that I would forget such a detail, considering she takes my breath away daily. Melanie Hamilton—” I pull her in so I’m surrounded by three powerful, amazing, world-changing women. Then I tilt my head toward my mischievously grinning mother. “This is my mami. Though you could call her Solana.”
“Mrs. Ramos.” Mel practically fucking vibrates from fear, peeling her hand from mine and taking my mom’s when she offers. “It’s a genuine honor to meet you. You’ve raised an exceptional son.”
“Solana,” she counters, kissing the back of Mel’s hand and hugging it between her palms. “Please call me Solana. My mother, too,” she gestures to my grandmother, “is Solana. But you can call her Mamá. Welcome to our home, Bella. When Nico told me he was bringing his special lady tonight, I can assure you, we were all aflutter. He’s never done that before.”
“Mami!”
“He’s never brought a woman home before?” Mel’s glittering eyes wing to mine. “Never?”
“We do not bring them around until they matter,” Elena offers, perched on the kitchen counter, though she knows she’s not allowed. “Until now, no one has mattered. Oh, Anna,” she drops to her feet and grabs her best friend, César, while she moves. “Let me introduce to you my very special friend. He’s like a brother to me and recently had his heart broken. He always wanted to test out a gringa, so?—”
“Elena!” My mother chastises. “What is wrong with you?”
“I’m the fairy godmother of perfect pairings.” Elena grabs Anna’s hand in her left, and traps César’s in her right. Then shedrags them together with surprising speed. “If you marry, I have dibs on being maid of honor.”
Isit on the back porch of my family home, hours after introductions are made, food is served, music is pumped louder, and Anna and Elena’s energies match. Seems we have two of the same, but instead of clashing, the women merely combine their powers and become worse.
So much worse.
Though no one seems to mind.
“You doing okay?” I settle in beside a quiet Mel and lean closer until my shoulder brushes against hers. “You’re pretty quiet. And though I didn’t expect you to be the center of attention, I’m starting to worry about howotheryou’re trying to be.”
She chews on her bottom lip and warily brings her eyes up to mine. “Other?”
“Yeah, like…” I gesture to the temporary dance floor, taking up half the backyard. Anna, of course, dancing in the middle, César’s leg nestled between her thighs and long, peeling laughter rolling from her throat when he whispers filthy things in her ear. “There’s this party, and you’re here. But you’re not actually here, ya know?” I bring my gaze back around. “You’re trying to be separate.”
Do you not like them?
Do you think you’re too good to be here?
Jesus, do you judge them for being… nice?
“Not separate.” She goes back to watching my family. Abuela istired, so she settles in on the edges, but my sisters play and joke. My nieces and their friends. My brother-in-law dances with his wife—my older sister—and stares at her like they’re still brand-new. “I’ve never been to a family thing like this before.” She swallows and slides her tongue out to wet her lips. “The parties I know are about sitting down and brain-aching small talk. It’s about one-upping each other, but being subtle about it because insecurity ostracizes arrogance. It’s about eating slow and tiny portions because continuing those monotonous discussions is paramount, but you must be able to do it without showing a single morsel of half-chewed food. There’s no dancing and definitely no enjoyment.” She shakes her head. “Not genuine enjoyment. Not the kind that feels good in your soul.”
“You imply that you’re having a good time here, but you won’t participate… You isolate.”
“I observe,” she happily sighs. “I’m not sure I even knowhowto be a part of that party. But I’m enjoying the fact I get to witness it.”
My nieces, two of them, dash across the dance floor with pretty dresses flying in their wake and long, cascading curls following behind. They giggle and squeal, and when they grow brave enough, they smack Anna on the butt and dash away again.
“You’re an uncle,” Mel exhales. “A really, really beloved uncle. They climb on you while you’re having dinner. They pull your ears and tell fart jokes. And no one is grumbling at them for being… well…” She shrugs, looking away again. “Kids.”
“Happiness is encouraged here.” Goosebumps break out on her bare arms, so I scoot closer until our thighs touch, and draping my arm over her shoulders, I pull her in and find pleasure in the way she leans into me. She’s getting more comfortable, resting her cheek on my chest and her hand on my hip on the opposite side. “My family wants happiness for those they love. Noise is temporary. Mess is temporary. Life is temporary,” I add when the heavy realization settles in my head. “We’re here for such a short amount of time, so why waste it being unhappy?”
She scoffs, though it’s so soft, I could almost think it’s just her natural exhalation of air. “So simply put, and yet, difficult for most to grasp. Your sisters adore you, too.” Pulling back, she glances up and searches my eyes. “They think you hung the moon and the stars. In fact, everyone does.”
“Like I said, lots of estrogen in this house.” I press a kiss to her forehead, lingering longer than I first intended when shedoesn’tstartle. She doesn’t panic or squeak or attempt to pull away. “Being the only male means they wanted to mother me, while simultaneously raising me to be a good man. Now I’m grown, and work keeps me busy, so when I come back here, they like to fuss.”
