“Baby?” I mumbled back. I poked the fish spot on the passenger side door before opening it and climbing out unsteadily. Mayra chuckled as she slipped an arm around me and helped me inside.
“You don’t want me to call you that?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. I considered it as she took my keys and opened the door. There was a part of me that definitely didn’t like to be referred to as an infant, but there was also a part of me that kind of liked having Mayra give me a pet name or whatever you were supposed to call it. Girlfriends did that sometimes, I was pretty certain.
That reminded me of something I wanted to ask.
“Mayra?”
“Yes?”
I had to stifle a yawn as we stopped in the foyer, and Mayra lifted her arms up around my neck. I placed my hands on her hips and my head on top of hers. Her hair always smelled good.
“Are you my girlfriend?”
She chuckled again.
“Well, what do you think?” she asked as her nose drew a line up my neck. I felt her lips press against my skin.
“I think so,” I told her, “but I wanted to make sure you thought so, too.”
“I think so, too,” she confirmed. “And that makes you my boyfriend in case that wasn’t clear.”
She tilted her head up, and I was just thinking about kissing her when the door opened, and Bethany and Travis came in. Beth looked over her shoulder as she headed into the kitchen.
“Travis!” she said. “No delaying!”
“Hi, Mayra,” Travis said as he walked in the door. “I’m a total ass and I need to mind my own business.”
Mayra busted out laughing.
“That was sincere.” She snorted.
“I might have been coached a bit.”
Mayra laughed again, and Travis narrowed his eyes at her. I looked back and forth between them, not really understanding what was transpiring in front of me.
“Regardless,” Travis added, “I was an ass. Matthew is my nephew, and I worry about him, okay?”
“He’s my boyfriend,” Mayra said. “I worry about him, too.”
Travis glanced up and met my eyes. I looked down to Mayra’s shoulder and stared at a little curled strand of hair lying across her pale skin.
“Just so there is no confusion,” Bethany said as she came back to the entrance of the kitchen and held up a little grocery sack, “there is no cake in here, and you aren’t getting any for a long time!”
“Cake?” Mayra looked up at me, confused.
I just shrugged, but Travis laughed out loud.
“Betty makes awesome cakes.”
“Don’t call me Betty!” my aunt yelled from the kitchen, which made Travis cringe a bit.
“It makes her think of Betty Rubble,” Travis told Mayra. “Anyway, Bethany has used cake as an incentive to get Matthew to do shit because he will do anything for a piece of her chocolate cake.”
“He will, huh?” Mayra said. She had an odd look in her eye when I glanced at her.
“Her cakes are the best,” I said quietly.