Page 73 of The Prez

“I appreciate that.” I swallow past an unexpected lump in my throat to accept his condolences. “Can you give us a ride over?”

Finn nods, gives Rax a quick kiss, then grabs his keys. “Come on. I know the way.”

As we take the familiar route to my sister’s house, I brace myself to be around Maria. She’s the best, no doubt about it, but like any big sister, she’s very overbearing and overprotective. Especially after I was stabbed by our papa.

She didn’t want me to move to the states with our abuelo, saying she would never see me again like Elena, but she was already struggling with her small children. There were too many mouths to feed for me to remain living with her. My grandfather was ecstatic that I wanted to live with him and sent for me as soon as I expressed interest. I had to promise to call Maria twice a week and write her letters before she would let me go.

When we pull up to the house, Finn turns to us and smiles. “If Maria doesn’t give you a ride home, give me a call and I’ll come pick you up.”

We’re not even out of the car fully when Maria throws open her front door and runs over to us. She hugs me hard, tears leaking down her face. “Oh, little brother. I’m so glad you’re here,” she says in rapid Spanish. “I missed you so much. You look good.” She pulls back, then frowns. “Too skinny though. Come, let me feed you.”

“Leave me alone, Maria,” I respond with exasperation in Spanish. “I’ve already eaten. Damn, I’m a forty-one-year-old man. I can feed myself.” I switch to English and say, “Omari has been feeding me. He’s an excellent cook.”

Maria wipes her eyes and looks at Omari when he stepsup to me with Little Raf in his arms. My sister gasps, her hand covering her mouth. “Raffy, he looks just like you,” Maria says in heavily accented English. “Then again, Elena looked like you too.” She steps closer and holds her hands out, then lowers them and looks at Omari. “May I?”

He looks at me and at my nod, he smiles shakily at Maria. “Of course.”

Maria’s hands tremble as she takes Little Raf from Omari. Tears track her cheeks as she whispers to him in Spanish, pinching his cheeks gently. Little Raf grabs her hand, holding on tight as he smiles at her. “Oh, mini. Aren’t you the cutest baby in the world?”

After she coos over the baby for a few minutes, soaking up his smiles and giggles, she looks up at Omari. “I’m sorry. I didn’t get your name.”

“Omari. I’m Omari. I’m Little Raf’s nanny.”

I wrap an arm around his waist and haul him closer to me. “He’s my boyfriend, Maria.”

She smiles. “Rafael. You’ve never bought anyone home before. And such a handsome man.” She steps closer to us and drops her voice conspiratorially. “Blink twice if he twisted your arm to date him.”

Omari laughs in a relieved burst. “No, he didn’t. He’s been sweet.”

“Sweet?” she asks, rearing back dramatically. “Yeah, he definitely twisted your arm.” She smiles and winks. “Come on in, you two. I have dinner on the stove.”

“Does anything contain eggs?” Omari asks, trailing behind her. “Little Raf has an allergy.”

She turns back to Omari with a smile. “I know. Rafael told me. I made sure nothing had eggs in the event you wanted to feed some to him.”

Omari smiles gratefully. “Thank you.”

We step inside and I breathe in the scent of ropa vieja,black beans, and yellow rice. My stomach grumbles as we walk further inside.

“Sit, sit,” Maria says, walking around with Little Raf. “Luis is at the garage. Kids are at some kind of community event. They’ll drop by later I think. Those hooligans don’t like to cook their own food when they know they can just come to mine and I’ll feed them. Spoiled rotten, I tell you.” She says that with a smile. Even though my nieces and nephews are grown adults with their own lives, Maria still allows them to come over when they want for a hot meal. “Not sure if they’ll come by before you have to go back to Rax and Finn’s.”

“All good,” I say. “We’ll hang for a few hours.”

Maria hands the baby to me while she bustles about making our plates. She sets them out in front of us and we dig in. It’s been a while since I’ve had her cooking. She’s still the best cook in Cuba.

After we’ve filled our bellies and Little Raf has had his first taste of authentic Cuban food, we migrate to the living room. Maria holds Little Raf close, wrapping her arms around him while he dozes off.

She looks down at him and smiles, fresh tears brimming in her eyes as he pushes his lock of hair from his forehead. “I’m glad you brought him. I needed this. I’ve missed Elena so much.” She chokes back a sob. I feel her pain, but my eyes remain dry. My heart aches, but I haven’t cried in decades. I’m not sure why I can’t bring myself to, even though I’m hurting. “But we have Rafelito.” She grins. “I’m glad I got to meet the piece of her she left behind.” Maria looks down at him once more. “It’s uncanny how he even has her hair.” I smile because I think the same thing often.

“He’s a great kid,” Omari says, grinning at a sleeping Little Raf. “Barely cries, sleeps through the night, laughs and smiles all the time. He’s amazing.”

“I can tell,” Maria says, patting his back. “So, how did you two meet?”

Omari giggles. “I really am his nanny. He was mean to me for a few weeks, then I wore him down.” He winks at me and I return a deadpan expression.

I speak up. “He didn’t wear me down. It was the other way around. He hated me because he thought I was going to beat him up.” He snorts and I grab his hand, kissing the back.

Maria doesn’t know how to take what I just said, so she just shakes her head and says, “I’m glad you’re happy, I guess. I thought you’d end up old and alone.”

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