But before I go, I just need to make one phone call, and set my new plan in motion. I’m about to make this one unforgettable holiday season.
16
Amelia
ThankGod for carbs and painkillers.
I’m moving around my dad’s apartment as if I weren’t a complete hot mess last night. Nikki is actually being helpful by setting up the Dominican catering that just came in. Seems like she can be extremely efficient when she knows we’re in the presence of my dad and therefore, cannot badger me about any more information on my night with Evan. Thankfully, dad’s currently holed up in his office completing his notes before our guests arrive.
“How many people did you say were coming? Because I’m pretty sure you can feed about 50 people with this amount of food,” Nikki says as she peeks under the aluminum foil at the mini yaniqueques in the foil tray.
“There is never enough food at Dominican parties, trust me. The usual suspects are coming, probably 20 to 25 people coming including Vanessa and Abby’s kids. Plus, whatever isn’t inhaled by this crowd, gets dispersed into makeshift take out bags for everyone to bring home. I thought ahead and bought cute little colorful party favor bags. Thought my dad might get a kick out of it.”
“Usual suspects? Does that mean Evan is coming too?!” Nikki whisper shouts excitedly.
“Hate to break it to you but Evan has never come to any of my dad’s birthday parties. The official kick-off to the holiday season with this crew is Thanksgiving. Plus, the past few years mom and dad have taken trips for their birthdays instead of having parties. The main reason we’re even having everyone over and throwing a party is because it’s his first birthday since mom died. He's obviously not going on a trip, and we wanted to make sure we could keep his spirits up today.”
“Yeah, that makes sense,” Nikki offers a sympathetic smile. “But you never know, maybe Evan has the same thought and decides to swing by?” she says wishfully.
“I know that you would love nothing more than to be front row and center to my awkward interaction with Mr. Cooper. Unfortunately, you’re gonna have to wait a few more days until I let you know how Thanksgiving goes, and that’s if I even go to Thanksgiving this year,” I say with a teasing wink.
“Ohhhhh do you call him Mr. Cooper?! That is so hot Amelia. You know I am a taken woman, but sheesh you sure know to make that man sound even more attractive,” Nikki says as she fans her face with her hands and dramatically rolls her eyes. “And what do you meanif you go to Thanksgiving? You can’t just ditch your family over the holidays to avoid Evan!”
“I’m not! It’s just that I usually know by now who is hosting and what dish to bring. But none of my Tías have mentioned anything lately which would be odd, but I don’t know if they just haven’t clued me in because of the year I’ve had.”
Truthfully, over the past few years our holiday gatherings have gotten smaller and smaller. We’re all grown up now, and some of us have spouses and kids. Which means holidays get split between more families, and the surrogate family we’ve created is no longer the main priority for gatherings.
“Besides, I’m actually looking forward to the possibility of having a low-key long weekend. I feel like I need to get out of the city and clear my head for a bit. Maybe I’ll book an Airbnb and read a book. Go on mental health walks or drink coffee at a café with actual mugs instead of to-go cups. I know, wild.” I chuckle. “I mean, I’m leaving underwear as parting gifts nowadays, so I should probably reel it in before I start leaving bras behind, that would be a very expensive habit to pick up.”
I move around the counter and take inventory of all the dishes that were delivered. Mangú, queso frito, salami, arroz con habichuelas, sancocho, plátano maduro, tostones, yuca, pasteles en hoja, and mini yaniqueques. You’d think that this would be enough food, but I’m sure everyone invited will bring something extra. I know for sure that my Tía Lourdes is bringing the Dominican cake, which is the best cake known to man and I will die on that hill.
DING DONG.
I open the door and find a bouquet of white roses in a simple clear vase.
“Did someone send your dad flowers?” Nikki asks over my shoulder.
“I guess, let me check the note.”
Amelia
Happy birthday to your father.
Hope to see you soon.
Huh?
“Wait, that’s it? It’s not signed by anyone. Who the hell does that? And why is it addressed to you and not directly to your dad?” Nikki asks.
“Yeah, that is weird. Maybe when ordering the flowers online, the note box cut off their name?” I suggest.
“That fucker.” Nikki groans, realization seemingly consuming her face.
“What? What fucker?”
“Don’t you get it? Who else would direct the flowers to you Amelia? Think!” She taps her temple aggressively.
Evan? No Amelia, not everything is about that man.
