Page 32 of Tell Me What You Want, Or Leave Me

“What did you bring me?” asks Flyn.

“A bunch of gifts, don’t worry. Now come and say hi.”

But Flyn is already hugging his uncle Eric, and I’m moved, like always, when I see how much they love each other. All of a sudden, my niece, who can sometimes be dumber than a rock, launches herself on them, and Eric loses his balance, and the three end up splattered on the ground.

Dexter and our other guests laugh. “Jude, help me!” Eric calls out to me.

He stretches his hand to me, but when I take it, he yanks me down, and I end up on the ground with him and the kids. Love and laughter, that’s what he makes me feel.

When we finally get up, my father is there, his arms outstretched.

“And how is my little sweetheart?”

I rush over and hug him.

I love my father so much.

“I’m doing great, Papá,” I say. “I’m happy and crazy in love with Mr. Bullheaded.”

Eric shakes my father’s hand and hugs him and introduces him to Dexter, Juan Alberto, and Graciela. Before we go in the house, we have to greet the neighbors, who have all come out to say hello.

“Papá, where is Raquel?”

“She’s finishing up giving Lucía a bath, my love. She’s in your room.”

I run back to my old room, and there’s my crazy sister, toweling down her baby, who’s now a little more than a month old, on the changing table. I smell her perfume and hug her from the back.

“Hello.”

“Cuchu!” she responds.

We hug and kiss. We have so many things to talk about that we both talk all over each other until baby Lucía makes a noise, and the two of us instantly turn to her.

“My God, I can’t believe how big she’s gotten!”

Raquel nods and starts babbling as she touches the baby’s cheeks. “She’s so big, so fat, isn’t that right, you pretty little thing?”

I give the baby a kiss, sniff her sweetness, and pick up where my sister left off.

“Hello, you little cutie. I could eat you up...Oh, I could eat this pretty little girl up from head to toe.”

“Say hi to your auntie,” insists my sister as she takes the baby’s hand and waves at me. “Hello, Auntie. I’m Lucía.”

“Hello, little love.”

And then we are lost in our jabber.

And then the baby closes her eyes. I’m sure if she could talk, she’d tell us to stop acting like such idiots.

Lucía sneezes, and my sister responds by finishing dressing her immediately.

“I made you what you wanted, and it’s in the kitchen.”

“You made me a chocolate cake?”

“Yes.” She grins.

“You have no idea what it took to make it behind the kids’ back, but I did it. Anything for my brother-in-law. It’s in Tupperware in the back of the fridge, behind the Cokes.”

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