Page 32 of Merry Little Mishap

“Which version? The Flintstones one?”

“I don’t know! All the versions combined?” I tried to explain, plugging in the garland. “We can’t serve him that cake!” I was totally overwhelmed, piping hot in my black sweater dress, my hair already pinned back in a glittery butterfly clip, keeping it off my shoulders.

Nick turned from the shelf, rolling up the sleeves to his unbuttoned plaid shirt. There wasn’t an ounce of sweat or worry on the guy. “Good thing I already baked anotherwithoutpecans.” He grinned, totally pleased with himself.

I did a double take, pointing my finger.

“You made another?”

“Just call me St. Nick.” He made his way over, his cool hands finding themselves around my bright, red cheeks. “You know I’m always looking after you, baby. You mentioned Mateo’s allergy before, just like you mentioned Sofia’s fear of dogs… which is why I already moved Marty’s treats and toys to the bedroom. He’ll be hanging out there tonight. Isn’t that right, boy?”

Marty stopped panting, his jingle bell collar silent as he squinted in our direction.

“She’s only afraid of chihuahuas, not all dogs. He’s fine, you’re fine… it’s just…” I pulled my head into my hands, wiping down my face, anxious for what was about to come.

I had a secret, and Nick didn’t know about it.

My large, loud, very catholic,verytraditional family from San Juan was traveling over sixteen-hundred miles to see Nick and me in Manhattan.

Exciting?

Yes!

Daunting, and possibly life ruining?

Maybe.

Because there was only one problem with this whole event, a single fact I’d been dreading on telling my family since the moment I knew they were coming.

No one, and I mean no one—not even my own parents—knew that both Nick and I were living together.What’s wrong with that?Oh, nothing, just that cohabitation was a total sin to my family, not to mention the underlining implication of what living together meant;if we’re sharing a bed, we must be sharing a lot more.

God, I couldn’t even mention the word sex around my mamí, let alone acknowledge the hint of breasts I got at the age of thirteen. Everything felt shameful, but also equally secretive.Don’t ask, don’t tell… well, I was about to tell a whole lot.

“You good, babe?” Nick cradled my chin, giving me a peck on the lips, brushing his nose against mine. I shut my eyes, feeling safe in his hands, but vulnerable with my back to the door, expecting a knock at any moment.

“It’s just… this is the first time I’m seeing my family in over two years. Everything has to be perfect and not just for me. I need to show them I still have my roots… my traditions.” I rambled, building some defense, assuring myself it was all going to be ok. If I still had traditions, then I could show them that I was still me—the girl who left San Juan, theirgooddaughter.

“We got the flowers, the lights… we’ve been makingpastelesfor the whole week. Do you know how hard it is to find banana leaves in Manhattan?”

“Very…” I added sheepishly, folding my arms into his chest.

“But I found them, didn’t I?”

“Mmhmm.”

“And aren’t they made with love, effort, andjust a tadof amateur charm?”

“Someareskinnier than others.”

“Sure, some may look more like cigars than others, but they’ll taste just as great.”

I laughed as Nick kissed me again, pecking me all over my face and down my neck. His hands moved to my hips, commanding their direction as he swayed me back and forth to an old Marvin Gaye album that played in the background.“You do so much for us… for me.” I slowly danced with him, turning my head to rest on his chest.

“What can I say? I love us… I love… you.” He kissed my knuckles, his fingers lacing mine. “And I already love your family. They had you, so I know they will be great, because you’re phenomenal.”

I stayed silent.

I knew they loved me, but could they accept my choices? Wasn’t I just allowed to be in love, to be human, to be swept away by something I believed was more real than anything I ever learned in a pew? I respected my family, I respected their beliefs, I just wanted them to respect mine too, and couldn’t they?

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