Say Forever(36)
What sucks is I know he's right. Even Christina has joked I should have been a chef instead of a mechanic. I'm so damned tired of the smell of auto grease on my hands. When it's my night to cook, and I'm immersed in the heavenly scents of garlic and cilantro, that's when I'm truly happy. Sure, I know how to fix cars. I'm good at it, but I don't enjoy it. It's something I learned to do spending summers at Tio's shops since I was a kid. I've always preferred cooking tamales and enchiladas with my aunts and Uncle Arturo to changing a fan belt.
But it's too late for wishing what could have been. I've committed myself to taking over Tio's businesses. He's the one who raised me, not my Uncle Arturo. How would Tio feel if I left Cruz Automotive? He'd be crushed. This man has done so much for me since my mother died when I was six years old. I can't turn my back on him now. Besides, Tio's businesses are a sure thing. This catering venture with Uncle Arturo could flop. Then where would that leave Christina and the baby? No, I've got to suck it up and learn to like my job, even if it kills me.
***
Christina
I spend the morning alternating between worrying over Andrés and painting cyclamen on my dress. These tiny pink and red flowers can be found on the perennial plants growing along the bank of the Riverwalk. I was so taken by them when Andrés and I first visited San Antonio, I knew I had to paint them on my gown. They remind me of that night we spent together, when he opened up about his past. Though it was heartbreaking learning about the death of his best friend in Afghanistan, it was a turning point in our relationship, the moment I realized I wanted to be with Andrés forever. And despite the difficulties we're facing right now, my love for him hasn't wavered. If anything, I love him more. Andrés told me he was going to call his doctor today. I hope this guy is able to help him.
After I finish painting, I take a shower and make myself a stack of pancakes. I practically scarf the whole platter. I can't believe how hungry I am, and I'm honestly thinking about making more, but I remember Andrés telling me I need to eat healthy. That's when I realize I have no idea what I should be eating. I sit in front of my laptop with what's left of my one cup of coffee and download several pregnancy books onto my e-reader.
The first book I open is huge, so I quickly scroll through the first month. Our baby looks like a little pea. I still can't believe he or she will one day grow into a human being. I skim through the advice about morning sickness. Luckily, other than a little nausea and fatigue in the mornings, I haven't thrown up since last weekend at my mom's house. I've figured out I'm okay as long as I don't eat breakfast too early. The book also says I should be taking prenatal vitamins, so I make a mental note to pick some up. Sadly, the author also advises I should limit my coffee intake to one cup per day. Damn. But there's nothing restricting my pancake limit, so I turn off my e-reader and make another batch.
Just as I finish licking my plate clean, I hear a knock on the door. I groan when I see Tia and Marie through the peephole. I remember Tia telling me she wanted to come see my dress. I wish she would have called first, so I could at least prepare for their visit, like go upstairs and hide in Grace's apartment until they left.
I slowly exhale and try to calm my frayed nerves as I unlock the door and swing it open. "Hi, Tia!" I lock eyes with her and intentionally ignore Marie standing behind her. She's not the only one who can play the bitch game.
Tia pulls me into a tight hug and pats my cheek before walking past me. I follow her gaze as she does a quick sweep of my compact kitchen. I haven't had time to clean my pancake mess, and I know it looks like a batter bomb went off all over my stovetop. Marie follows behind Tia, refusing to acknowledge me as well. I want to slap that smug expression off her face as she surveys my home. She looks at Tia with raised brows, and I can read the meaning behind her smirk. That I'm a lazy, pregnant slob.
"Sorry for the mess," I say as I brush past them and set my dish in the sink. "I just finished breakfast. If I'd known you were coming," I add with a touch of annoyance, "I would have eaten earlier."
"Christina, you're just finishing breakfast?" Tia makes a big show of checking her watch. "It's past eleven."
"I don't like eating too early." I shrug a shoulder and wipe down the stove with a dishrag. What I really mean to say is I can't eat early because of my morning sickness. I realize they know I'm pregnant, but I'm in no mood to acknowledge the elephant in the room. It will only incite more snickers from Marie. Not that I care what she thinks, anyway.
"What have you been doing all morning?" Marie asks me accusingly.
None of your fucking business, I say to myself. God, how I want to voice my thoughts aloud, if only Tia wasn't in the room. I plaster on another smile, this one so taut, I feel my face may break. "I was painting my wedding gown."