Grin and Beard It(100)

Today was Thursday, and it was past midnight for me. So I understood her concern.

“Nothing has happened, nothing bad anyway. I just—I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh.” I heard her release a relieved breath. “I’ll never turn down a call from my lovely daughter. How are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good,” I said, nodding even though she couldn’t see me. “Actually, Mamita, I’m good, but I need your advice.”

“Vicks.”

“What?”

“Whatever it is, use Vicks.”

“Ha ha.” I rolled my eyes. Usually when I called unexpectedly it was because I had a cold or some other mysterious ailment and needed my mother’s soothing presence and her medical expertise. “I don’t think Vicks is going to work this time.”

"Oh, well then sex.”

I coughed, choking on nothing. “What?”

“Sex, mija. You sound on edge. You need a release.”

This was a new approach, much blunter than usual. Typically she’d say, “You need a man, let me set you up. I know a nice boy.”

When I was younger, I didn’t understand her meaning and I would grow indignant, angry she thought I needed a man. But as I grew older and heard her say the same thing to my older sisters, I realized You need a man meant You need to get laid.

But this was the first time she’d just come right out and said it.

My neck heated with an involuntary blush, but I pressed on. “So, that’s sort of what I want to talk to you about.”

“Oh.” She sounded surprised. “Do you need some resource materials? Toys?”

“No!” I blurted, huffing a laugh. “No. I-I met someone.”

“Ooohhhh . . .” she sing-songed. I could almost see her wiggling in her seat, the giant grin on her face. “Tell me about him. Does he need resource materials?”

Now I was really laughing, but chided, “Mamita, let me speak.”

“Sorry, sorry. Go ahead.”

I gathered a breath for courage, because Marta’s reaction—for better or for worse—had me feeling gun-shy about sharing Jethro with my family.

“His name is Jethro. He’s a wildlife park ranger here in Tennessee.” I paused, bracing myself for her reaction.

She didn’t say anything at first, and my heart rate doubled.

I was just about to make a joke when she said, “In the Old Testament Jethro was the name of Moses’s father-in-law. That will make Abuela very happy. It’s a good name. And he treats you well? With kindness?”

I collapsed onto my bed, my heart swelling with gratitude. Clearly, I’d been silly to think my mother would share any of Marta’s concerns. Thank God for my mother!

“Yes. He treats me so well. He is amazing.”

“Tell me about your young man. Leave nothing out.”

I smiled at the ceiling of stars above me and spent the next half hour telling her everything. Well, almost everything. I didn’t tell her about how we almost had sex against a tree behind his house. Or how we’d attacked each other in my trailer after I ate the world’s best doughnut. I shared details about his past—a little about Ben, nothing about his criminal pursuits or the Iron Wraiths—enough to make it clear he’d made poor decisions as a youth, but had changed his ways.

I finished telling her about our first two dates and moved on to date three. “So I mentioned to him last week, while we were driving to the set—”

“He still drives you every morning?”

“Yes. We drive in together in the mornings, and then usually after work we have dinner with his family.”

“His brothers?”

“And his sister and her fiancé.”

“And his family, they are good people?”

“Yes. They are the best. The. Best. They kind of remind me of the Marx Brothers, the shenanigans and hijinks. I love them.”

“That’s good. Your children will resemble—in looks and temperament—your husband’s siblings and your siblings.”

I tried to feel irritated she would jump to this conclusion, that we might be getting married and having children, but all I felt was excitement. Even so, I reprimanded her. “Mamita, we’ve just started dating.” I couldn’t have her getting carried away. One of us needed to be sensible.

“Yes, but you are telling me about him. You’ve never told me about anyone before. He is the one, I feel it in my bones, and my bones never lie. And you spend so much time with him—in the mornings before work, in the evenings. Do you still enjoy his company?”

“Yes. So much. Spending time with him is comforting and thrilling and energizing. He is so easy to be around and to talk to. He makes everything calmer but more exciting. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like, when we’re together, we’re in a bubble.”