Pretty Hurts (Left 1.50)

“There’s no bending w

hen it comes to kids. You’re on board, or you’re not.”

She shakes her head, sending her blonde locks tumbling about her heart-shaped face. “I’m done fighting with you, Eddie. I’m going to go now. We’ll figure out the money invested in the house and some of the bigger appliances later.”

“It’s that easy to just walk?” My voice breaks.

“It’s not.” Her blue eyes well with tears. It’s the first real emotion I’ve seen other than anger.

“I’m going to go. I’ll be back tomorrow while you’re at work for the rest. I-I’m staying with my mom and dad until I get things sorted out.”

She steps back from me, and I watch as the woman I thought I’d grow old with walks out of my life. I could chase her, but I know it’d be useless. This isn’t a spontaneous decision. She methodically planned, calculated, and executed it. How could I not have seen this coming? My stomach rolls. Shame and anger mix to form an explosive cocktail.

I walk over and kick the box lingering in the center of the room. The sound of glass shattering fortifies me. I stomp down, crushing what lies beneath and destroying the box. Panting, I stop when the crunching ends and let the tears fall.

***

Present

I shove the memory away. Things with Efia and I are different. She’s older. At thirty-five, she knows if she wants children or not. We’re taking our time, and things are developing nicely. I refuse to let Marilyn ruin this for me. Chilled, I step from the shower, towel off, and get dressed. As I near the kitchen, the smell of baked batter reaches me.

“Something smells good.” I walk behind her at the stove and wrap my arms around her waist as she stirs eggs.

“I hope you like waffles.”

“Love them.”

“Excellent. Waffles, eggs, and bacon will be served shortly, sir.”

I slap her ass and move to set two places at the breakfast island.

Five minutes later we’re settled, and I’m eating heaven on a plate. Not many people know how to make waffles from scratch anymore. I study her from the corner of my eye. She’s my ideal woman, and I’m going to make sure she stays exactly where she should be, by my side.

***

I knock on the door and beam when my mother answers and hold out her arms. I bend to hug her slender frame. She’s spry at sixty-five, but I’m very aware that she’s getting older.

“Hi, Mami.”

“Hello, mijo. Please, come in. It’s an unexpected surprise to see you here on a weekday.”

“I was on my way home from work and realized it’d been over a week since I saw you.”

“Such a sweet boy, my son,” she says, guiding me inside. “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“Come, I was just finishing a bag of tamales. The grands are coming over for dinner later, and you know that’s one of their favorites.”

“I can’t blame them. They’re good.” I follow her inside the house I grew up in. Between my siblings and I, we’ve kept the place up nicely and made minor upgrades when necessary.

“Now tell me, what brings you to see your madre on such short notice?”

I sit down at the table as she pulls the tamales out of the silver pot I swear we’ve had since forever. “I’ve met someone.”

“Madre Dios, my prayers have been answered.” She makes the sign of the cross, and I shake my head, amused by her fervor.

“It’s new, but I have a feeling about her, Madre. She’s special.”