Page 25 of Color of Love

Chapter 8

Justine’s night was not off to a great start. She went to her parents’ home for dinner, giving them both a big hug when she arrived. Her brothers and their wives were already there waiting for her, the men instantly taunting her for being late. Then began the traditional brotherly rivalry which ended up with both brothers roughhousing, smashing a vase and then blurting out their wives were pregnant, much to the annoyance of her sisters-in-law. The volume in the room rising by infinite levels as both brothers were scolded by their wives for announcing the news in such a way, before congratulations were passed around.

Justine congratulated both and then escaped to the kitchen under the guise of fetching glasses for a toast. If anyone ever questioned why she liked her space, this was why. She grew up in such a loud, chaotic household, and while she loved her family, she found it hard to be around them for long periods of time. This was why she liked her things to be a particular way: she craved the peace and serenity that was absent growing up.

She paused at the cabinet, collecting herself and digesting their news. It was exciting; and whilst she was obviously happy for them and couldn’t wait to be an aunt to a bunch of little nieces and nephews, it hurt too. When would it be her turn?

“Are you going to help me cook, mija? It’s tradition,” her mother asked, coming into the kitchen. Her accent was still strong despite living in the country since she was a teenager, marrying an American and raising a family here. Her mother had taught Justine and her brothers all about their Mexican roots and to be proud of their culture. They had grown up speaking Spanish, it was as ingrained in Justine as English, and she couldn’t wait to teach her children the language and about their heritage when the time came. If the time came…

She turned to face her mother, taking in the gray that now dotted her hair, the lines that bracketed her eyes and mouth. Justine’s stomach clenched like it usually did at the idea that her mother was getting older. Her throat tightened with emotions she tried to hide.

“Of course, you still have so much to teach me,” she replied. Her mother nodded then gripped her arm tightly and Justine knew what was coming.

“When are you going to marry and give me grandbabies, mija?” Her accent thickened with emotion, her concern was overwhelming.

“When I find the right man, mamá,” Justine sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Just pick someone already. Look at how much time you’ve wasted, you’ve been so busy building your career, time is running out!” Her mother stared up at her. Her eyes, a shade darker than Justine’s, were full of worry. “You need to settle down, you spend so long looking for perfection that you’re missing out on what could be a good man who can offer you a good life.”

“But I don’t just want a good life, I want a great life! I refuse to settle, mamá, end of discussion,” Justine huffed, feeling herself getting riled up over justifying her life choices to someone who couldn’t understand. She was always so torn. Her parents had traditional values that had been passed onto Justine, who tried to reconcile these within a modern world. Yes, she was independent, but she also wanted a family, and she didn’t want to have to justify herself to anyone.

“Okay, mi amor, I’ll let it go, but time is ticking,” her mother sighed sadly, then patted Justine’s stomach.

Time is running out.

It took everything in Justine not to open her mouth and scream, I know! I know all this, it plays through my mind every single second of every minute of every fucking day, I don’t need another reminder! Instead, she pasted a smile on her face, celebrated the baby news and cooked with her mother, making a mental note to try this recipe with Hilda.

Dinner itself was fine although tension poured off Justine, she was ready for one of her brothers to make a comment similar to their mother, but they didn’t. Her mother force-fed Justine until she was ready to burst, but her bad mood still hung around. Justine left dinner early, her father walking her to her car.

“Don’t let your mother upset you, you know she just wants the best for you,” he murmured against her hair, hugging her tightly.

“I know, it just doesn’t make me feel any better about where I’m at in life,” Justine grumbled, returning his bear hug.

“Don’t compare yourself to anyone, we’re all on our own clock, mi niña. We’re so proud of you for everything you’ve achieved. Your mother can’t help that she’s dying to be an abuelita,” he laughed, his voice deep and gruff, then gestured to her car. “I’ve topped up your oil, it was looking a little low and replaced one of your wiper blades as it was torn.”

She kissed his cheek. “Thank you, papi, I’llsee you soon.” She waved goodbye and got in her car, heading for the NWS meeting. She tried to calm down on the drive over, pushing her mother’s voice out of her mind but it wasn’t working.

The meeting hadn’t started when she arrived, so she went over to the refreshments table, looking for something sweet to drown her sorrows.

“Justine!”

She looked up and saw Dean waving to her. She smiled at him and headed over, her step faltering slightly when she saw Blake standing next to him. When she reached them, Dean dropped his head to kiss her cheek.

“I feel like I’ve not seen you for ages, Just,” Dean said.

“Don’t be silly, it’s only been a week,” she replied, smiling. She loved Dean, had known him since they were kids, he was like a third brother to her, the really annoying, gossipy one.

“Hello Blake,” she added, meeting his eyes reluctantly.

“Justine,” he nodded at her coolly.

“You think tonight’s gonna be as thrilling as always?” Dean teased her; she rolled her eyes.

“I don’t think it will ever be as exciting as last summer,” she replied, and they laughed at the memory.

“Last summer the ladies were convinced that there was a gang going round and knocking over everyone’s trash cans. They did stakeouts and created the Trashcan Bandits taskforce but never caught anyone. The mystery remains unsolved,” Dean explained to Blake.

“What leads did they have?” Blake asked, his tone intense and Justine had to fight another eyeroll, of course Deputy Sheriff McSerious would jump on the case.

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