Edgar swirls his glass again. “Surprisingly full-bodied and mellow. Has a nice oak finish.” He considers for a moment. “Also a hint of black currant, which is a pleasingly delicate note. Does that satisfy your curiosity?” His smile is polite.
Huh. That’s pretty…thorough. My exes always said, “It’s good,” or some such with a vapid, ingratiating grin. To be honest, they would’ve had nothing but praise even if my uncle had poured them a glass of vinegar.
“But do you like it?” Tío Manny demands.
“Yes. It’s delicious. What vineyard is it from?” Edgar asks.
“Sombrero Valley,” Hugo answers. “The best place for wine.”
“My other uncle owns it,” I add, wanting to end this wine inquisition…and also because I want to see what Edgar says next. My exes were usually effusively complimentary—too complimentary—about the wine. “He sends us some bottles every year.”
“I’ll have to get in touch. Get some for my brothers,” Edgar says, then takes another sip. Unlike some of my exes, it’s obvious Edgar means it.
Tío Manny grins suddenly. “You’ve got good taste.”
Of course. He thinks his brother’s wine can cure cancer.
“Are you okay?” Mom peers at me. “You keep fidgeting.”
Oh, great. Is it that noticeable that I’m squirming to relieve the pressure between my legs? Now I feel a smidgeon of sympathy for men.
Tía Bea says, “It’s the lower back. When you’re pregnant, it always hurts.” She gives me a significant look. “High heels don’t help, either, sweetie.”
Dios mío, how could she draw such a ludicrous conclusion? I don’t even have a visible bump. As a matter of fact, the baby might still be in its egg form with a sperm wriggling inside. On the other hand, I can’t tell them the real reason.
“Is there a cushion to support her back?” Edgar asks, the picture of solicitousness.
None of your exes were this considerate. He’s as good as it’s going to get.
Probably so. But I don’t want to acknowledge it. Not while Aaron’s “Plan B” is still hanging over my head.
“Good idea. Hugo, go get one from my office,” Tía Bea says.
Hugo leaves the room and Papa turns to Edgar, his gaze extra probing and vaguely judgmental. “You know an awful lot about making a pregnant woman comfortable.”
Oh my God. Does Papa think Edgar has been impregnating women left and right all over the country? Even if he does, he could be a bit more subtle.
“My sister-in-law is expecting,” Edgar replies easily. “I’ve seen how my brother takes care of her.”
The dark aura of judgment around Papa subsides, and I relax in my seat.
Hugo returns with a cushion, which I dutifully place behind my back. There isn’t really any alternative, even though it doesn’t do a thing for me, of course.
“Better?” Edgar asks.
I fake a smile. “Yes. Thank you.”
Mama nods approvingly, exchanging knowing glances with my aunt, and I know what they’re doing: writing a fantasy wedding novel starring me and Edgar. Although I told Aaron I’m the one planning a fancy ceremony, Mama is into it too.
Mercifully, dinner continues without any more awkward questions or embarrassing probing or observations. I focus on the food, even though it’s hard. Edgar’s tugging at my attention like a puppy wanting to play.
By the time all the dessert plates have been scraped clean and the conversations have died their natural deaths, it’s after nine. I’m tired from the excitement of the day—of finally confirming my suspicion that I’m pregnant, negotiating with Aaron and confronting Hugo, plus dinner—so I’m the first to get up to leave. I really need to exit stage left before my parents stop me to discuss the fertilized egg in my womb. I wasn’t planning on talking about it, and I’m still not ready.
“Jo, can we speak to you for a moment?” Papa says.
My heart sinks. He isn’t smiling, and neither is Mama. Technically they can’t ground me or take away my allowance. But I still hate the idea of disappointing them. And an unwed pregnancy? Definitely on the list of things that will disappoint my parents.
One by one, my brothers hug and kiss me, then step out of the private room with a sympathetic look in my way. My cousins do the same, along with my uncle and aunt.