Alex snorted. “The irony.”
The men’s bathroom door opened and Matteo appeared.
Avery passed him one of the drinks in her hand.
“Hey,” he told Saint and Lola with a nod. “You came to check on Alex?”
Alex sucked her teeth. “I don’t know why everyone is worried about me. So my mom randomly showed up today after vowing not to step foot back in Chicago when she stormed out after Abuela’s funeraltwelve years ago, leaving my dad and seeing Gabi and me maybe once a year when she could squeeze in a few days for us to visit her and Eva in New York. Why would I be upset?” She drained the drink in her right hand and then the one in her left.
Saint took both glasses from her with one hand and set them on a ledge. “Take it easy with those.”
Alex took Saint’s drink from his hand and started in on it. “No can do, primo. I plan to get plastered, so these two have a valid reason to take me home early.” The thick strap of her blue wide-leg jumpsuit slipped off her shoulder and Avery pushed it back up. “Because I’m not sticking around here to watch everyone roll out the red carpet for them after talking hella shit about the situation this whole time.”
Lola was thrown off. She never would’ve expected there to be so much drama in the Vega family. From the outside they looked like such a close-knit group. Then again, one thing didn’t have to negate the other.
Avery’s phone buzzed. She pulled it out and read the text quickly. “Okay, Monica got the chisme.”
“Of course,” Matteo said. “There’s nothing your sister loves more than being in on all the good bochinche.”
“Facts,” Avery agreed. Her phone buzzed again. She read the text then gave Alex a look of concern. “According to what your mom told my mom, with Monica standing right there, Eva’s got a huge secret project that’s going to be based out of Chicago. It looks like they’re here for a while, prima.”
“Fuck,” Alex and Saint said at the same time.
19
Saint took another sip from his drink. As nonchalantly as possible, he asked the woman next to him, “Are you ready to meet my parents now?”
Lola spun around on her heels to face him. “Umm. Do you think it’s a good time? I mean with your aunt and cousin surprising everyone...”
The truth was that he’d very strategically picked this party to introduce Lola to his parents, because they’d be in a good mood and more likely to think before they spoke, but they’d also be distracted enough to not interrogate Lola like the FBI. However, now, thanks to his tía’s propensity to make a grand entrance or exit, he could tell that both of his parents were agitated.
Papi was standing around stern-faced while Mami had taken on the personality of a hummingbird, flitting around from group to group laughing a bit too loudly and moving her hands around more wildly than normal. The situation wasn’t ideal.
“My parents are not the patient type. If we don’t go to them, they’ll come to us and they’ll be annoyed that they had to seek us out first.”
At Lola’s wide-eyed look, Saint mentally face-palmed. He should not have told her that. He could tell that she was nervous and he had not helped.Get your shit together, Vega, he scolded himself like he would’ve done to one of his men.
He reached a hand up under her hair and gave her a mini neck massage. “Just be yourself. They respect honesty more than anything.” He slid his hand down to the small of her back and gave a little nudge of encouragement. “Come on.”
His parents were standing in a small group with Abuelo Papo and Tío Rico. As Saint neared with Lola, he could begin to distinguish their voices from everyone else’s.
“It’s a damn shame,” Tío Rico said.
Tío Rico was technically the oldest brother by about ten minutes, and he never let Papi forget it. Despite looking almost identical, the twin brothers were otherwise very different. Papi was low-key and pretty blue-collar. He preferred to keep his head down and get things done, like his mother. Ricardo Vega II, named after his father, had inherited his father’s larger-than-life personality and easy charm along with his name. What he hadn’t gotten from his father was his musical talent, so once it was clear Rico wouldn’t be schmoozing the community with a microphone and a song, he began to do it with a mic and a speech. His uncle was the quintessential local politician but with one big difference: he actually cared about his community enough to put its needs before his own ego. Which was why Tío kept getting elected alderman.
“That’s what happens when two people get married without knowing what the other one wants,” Papi said from the other side of Tío Rico. “Anyone who knows Carmen knows that she was never going to be happy being a stay-at-home mom. She was always ambitious and selfish.”
“No le digas egoísta a tu hermana,” Abuelo scolded.
“She was. She never did anything to help anyone, because everyone would do everything for her and she would do for herself.”
“She was little, Santos,” Tío Rico argued.
“She’s four years younger than us, Rico, not fourteen. She could’ve had more responsibilities, but because she was Papi’s little estrellita, she didn’t have to do anything but rehearse.”
Abuelo Papo bristled in irritation. “What was I supposed to do, shit all over her dreams like you two did to Kamilah?”
“Papi,” Tío Rico intoned. That was too fresh a wound to poke at. His parents and Kamilah were still rebuilding their relationship and they didn’t need anyone making comments about it.
