Page 16 of Out of Office

“Listen, stop abusing your big sister role. Tell Genevieve about the name of the fonda please.” I rubbed the back of my head, as Genevieve brightened at my words. She took a bite of the fish, and her eyes widened in amazement.

“Claudia, you ain’t lying when you said you are the best cook here. You put your whole foot in this, girl.” Genevieve took another forkful now with rice and stared back at Claudia with an impressed nod.

“My foot? Uh...well, girl, you know I try my best,” Claudia said demurely, and I cackled at her act. “So, Mario, whom you saw when you walked in, has been my man since we were in high school. He used to call me La Buenona. Do you know what that means?”

“Bueno is good, right? So the good one?” Genevieve asked and then made eye contact with me and gestured for me to eat. Damn. I’d been frozen with a forkful of food midway to my mouth. This woman had me in her clutches. I took the bite, just as Gen wanted, and saw Claudia roll her eyes. The moment Claudia got me alone, I would hear her mouth about this. And it would be worth it. Being here with Genevieve was worth it.

“Yes that would be the literal translation, but what it means in Panamanian slang equates to ‘The baddest one,’” Claudia said, her hand sweeping up and down her side, and she waggled her eyebrows for good measure. Just as she said that Mario popped up right behind Claudia and grabbed a handful of her hip, and planted a kiss on her cheek, making Claudia blush.

To this day, five children later and a few pounds more and fewer hairs, and they both couldn’t get enough of each other. It reminded me of our parents. Nostalgia gripped as it often did when they came to mind. Genevieve slid her hand to mine and held it again with a shy smile as if to share a private secret—recognition of how special it was, what Claudia and Mario had.

“Yeah, this my woman right here, and every year she gets better and better. She is truly the baddest of them all, and I let her know every day.” Mario smacked another kiss on Claudia, and she melted like putty in his hands.

“Ay, Mario, we have guests,” Claudia protested, but made no move to separate herself from her husband. I could only laugh as one of the ladies from the other table hollered, “Get yours, sis!” And Claudia rested her head back on Mario’s shoulder letting him kiss her on the mouth this time.

“So that is how the fonda was named La Buenona, and the reason for my five nieces and nephews,” I finished telling Genevieve.

“Hey, compa, thanks again for the help with Turito’s house. His roof was in bad shape, but with that money you put in the b—”

“You know we good, Mario. That’s not my money,” I said, uncomfortable with the topic switch. The family and fellow neighbors never ceased to thank me for the money I’d invested into our little town after things went still with my career, after hurting myself and my family. It had been the best decision I’d made in my life. The decision took me from being part of such an amazing project like the Tropics back to rags. I might not have much now, but together Aguimar was better. And I got to spend time with my family and work on my business in the city with Julín. Finally, keeping a healthy balance.

Genevieve’s intense curiosity prodded me, asking to explain more, but this wasn’t a topic that was easy for me. Not yet. And that was a reminder of why getting into anything serious with a woman wasn’t right yet. Not until I could deal with all my guilt and my demons.

Eight

Genevieve

The walk back to Adrián’s cabana carried a different quality than the walk to the fonda. My confidence had increasingly returned as I spent more time with Adrián. He had grown uncharacteristically quiet at the end of our meal, but I coaxed him out of his silence with jokes about my last dates, which sadly had been a long time ago. After a while, Adrián was right back with me, bantering and laughing.

Now we held hands under the moonlight, and I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so blissful. No recent date could compare to this, to how open I already felt with Adrián. I could do this for days, weeks, discovering more about him and about myself, as well. Maybe I could extend my time here, taking three weeks wouldn’t be so bad—Lissette’s commanding voice filtered through me: “Never lose track of the finish line.”

No. No more thoughts of my mom, or anything but living in the moment. That I could do, I was in the best company.

“Sorry for shutting down on you there at the end of the dinner. It’s just...seeing Claudia and Mario reminds me of my parents. They passed away two years ago. Around this same time.”

“I’m so sorry, Adrián. I can’t imagine the loss you feel right now.” I tangled my arm with Adrián’s, bringing our bodies closer together, our hands clasped and fingers intertwined. The night’s heat had settled to a warm breeze, and Adrián’s cologne and his closeness tempted my composure. It was so easy to be with him when we talked and hung out, but the moment my desire reared its head it came with a nervous excitement I didn’t know how to handle. The soft earth and grass muffled our steps as we went off-path taking a different route than before. Soon we were barefoot on the sand, ambling toward two lounge seats directly outside Adrián’s cabin.

Warm low lights illuminated the back sides of the family area, providing enough light to navigate. I refused to show the near pitch dark spooked me. Once we lay on the two beach chairs, with the moon’s reflection on the churning waters in front of us, all fear dissipated. The stars twinkled bright from our vantage point, live art only for the two of us. Adrián reached out and grasped my hand again. Thank God for the semidarkness because he’d caught me cheesing.

“Tell me about your parents,” I asked, ghosting my thumb on top of his.

“They were the best parents anyone could have. I know, I know, it sounds a bit cliché, but it’s true. They owned this little hostel here. Before the renovation, it was just five little cabanas, and the main casita was our house. They never had all five rooms full unless it was carnival season, and even then, they sometimes dropped their rates to get people in. This was the type of spot that was very hard to find if you didn’t know about it.”

“Damn, I can imagine, a little outside of the city but so far away simultaneously.”

“Yeah, well they were always struggling financially, but Claudia and I never knew the struggles. I mean, we knew we were poor, but hey, everyone in Aguimar is poor. And we lived in paradise. My parents were always around. My mom helped us with homework, and my dad played ball with us and showed us how to plant a new crop around the perimeter of the property. Every day it was an adventure with them, but we were safe and loved. Their last years... I wasn’t as present as I’d liked.”

“Mmm, it’s hard when we grow older, we go and experience our own lives. I get it. I mean, I wish I could sometimes have some space from my mom.” I chuckled trying to chase away the anxiety that crept up at the thought of Mom. I hadn’t checked my text messages, but I was certain she’d probably sent a few pointed ones about her thoughts on this escapade.

“You’re not close with your mom?” Adrián asked, picking up on my change of tone. Oh, that was lovely. Outside of Gino, I wasn’t sure I knew of men being so in tune as Adrián. Having that connection intertwined with our attraction increased the intensity of every word, of each of Adrián’s gestures. With Adrián, his perceptiveness sparked tingles in my fingers, and warmth in my chest. And don’t get me started with the pulsing between my legs.

How? How was this man making me think with my private parts instead of my head? We were talking about my mother and I ended up lusting after him.

“We are...we are. But our relationship is...she is my mentor, guiding light, and support...and sometimes I’m her biggest disappointment.” I shrugged, letting the waves crashing against the sand cover up the pain behind my last words.

“Seems to me like every parent I’ve ever known,” Adrián said. He got it was a sore subject. Based on what he’d just said about his parents, he was trying to be nice; I hated platitudes but again Adrián seemed to be in a league of his own, and I melted by his gentleness.

“Yeah, well, imagine that being your only parent. My dad...he’s not much of a dad.” That was the kindest way I could describe my sperm donor. As a child I loved his spirit. He was the exciting parent, the one to take me on adventures. But my mother? She was the solid one. The one that made sure food was on the table, and a roof over our heads. I was so thankful that I recognized the family dynamic for what it was in my earlier years, even if I sometimes yearned for the type of carefree energy my father brought to the two of us. “My mom...she’s that type of person that can do it all. She’s mentored so many Black professionals, especially women. Whenever people find out I’m her daughter it’s this ‘ohh, aww’ moment. You know how parents usually complain about being called ‘so and so’s mom?’ Well, I’m Lissette Raymond’s daughter. And I’m so proud to be her daughter, I am, but it’s like I’m always striving to break the next glass ceiling.”

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