Page 65 of Ms. V's Hot Girl Summer

“Hey, sunshine.” I smiled at her, crouching to be at eye level.

“Are you happy, Brian? This was a really fun day with all our family, right?” She grinned, her excitement for us so palpable I couldn’t help but give her another hug and a squeeze.

“Yeah, it’s awesome.”

“Look at Mami Trinidad and Daddy. They can’t keep from kissing each other. It’s gross,” Maya confessed.

I stared at our parents. We still called Orlando by his name, but he was a dad through and through. Today, he gifted us and Mom a painting of a woman who looked like her in a superhero cape with two sons who look very like us. Mom, who is badass, something I’d never tell her, started crying when she saw the art. Right now, they were doing too much, though; Maya was right. Orlando had managed to extricate Ma from the circle and had her in a corner, his hands on her ass and his face buried on her neck. Ma’s laughter was loud. We could hear her from here.

“Yeah, you’re right. They kinda gross sometimes, but you know what? Love is like that sometimes. They are just really, really happy.”

Maya sighed the put-upon sigh of a weary eight-year-old, then nodded in agreement.

“I guess you’re right. Better to be happy and in love. But I hope I am not gross like them when I grow up.” She shuddered.

“Damn, me too, sunshine. Me too.”

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