I'm spending the weekend at her aunt's house and have to crash in the extra room, the other end of the house next to Chris' room. I've gotten in good with him and his childhood friend, Angelo who's been there for nearly a month now.
Stipulations? No long kisses or anything inappropriate, young girls are watching and she has to set an example. If we want to leave, we have to tell Bev or Chris exactly where we'll be going and around what time we plan on getting back. We have to leave the door open if we want to be alone so they can peek in to make sure we're not doing anything 'inappropriate'. We can be home alone together, they've dubbed us responsible enough for that. We have the house to ourselves this Saturday, tomorrow. A grin slides across my lips, lighting up my face and I wouldn't doubt that my eyes are shining. I'm sitting outside her school, trying to patiently waiting for her to come out. I skipped last period, free period-I was there long enough for roll call and then 'went to the bathroom', taking my bag with me to casually stroll out the doors. I've been sitting on the edge of the outer steps against the railings facing the doors for close to half an hour now, ten or fifteen minutes and she's out for the weekend. She has a cheer squad meet for a game around 6:30 tonight. She's captain of the squad and has to announce her replacement for next school year by April vacation, she has three candidates left out of the whole squad and they have seniority, performing the routines nearly flawlessly including practice meets. Practice meets usually run from 2-4 after school, but there isn't one today since there's a game tonight and that works out to my benefit. The final bell rings and I stand up, aware that I could get bulled over by middle schoolers who are just excited for the weekend as I am. A flood of kids come out the door and she straggles behind, the last one out the door as she puts her history text in her shoulder bag. She's wearing flared jeans that are a little big, Chris' football jersey from a few years ago, her usual Reeboks and has her hair up, bangs swept to the right. Her bangs are hanging down over her face as she looks up, her right eye covered by them and smiles the moment our eyes meet. "Alex! You made it!" she shouts, taking the last few steps quickly to hug and kiss me. She happy to see me, to say the least.
"Yup, skipped free period after roll call."
She scowls at me and lightly smacks my chest, upset for skipping school. "A good education is important," she scolds me.
"A better girlfriend and real life experience is more important," I argue. It's my belief that a real down to earth girl means more than the flaky ones because the good ones aren't just hard to find, but harder to keep happy and she's a down to earth kind of girl. She values education, knowledge, honesty, perseverance, integrity, self respect, trust and intelligence.
"Alex, you know I believe that you'll soon be known for more than just your small roles and solo performances in competitions at small things or carnivals, but until then you've got to try to get through life." Always believed in me and the guys being discovered and that we will be huge, sealing it with a kiss each time.
We've been leaning on each other long enough against the railing to have a small audience behind us on the sidewalk below and you could say that we were more wrapped up in our moment that we could be considered oblivious, some kid yelling 'kiss her', essentially starting a chant pulled us back to reality. "It's people like you that ruin special moments like this," I retort, putting a middle finger up behind me and promising to make tomorrow night special for her.
"Let's get my house," she tells me, patting my chest with a smile.
"Do we have to pick up Tay?"
"Yeah, we do. It's on the way, vamos."
I follow her down the steps, heading to her cousin's daycare center and not saying many words with our fingers intertwined. We like talking all the time and it's getting close to her favorite Irish holiday, making me think of what I could get her. I love getting things for her, she's a Beanie Baby fanatic, loves No Doubt and Nirvana, admits Lenny Kravitz is a guilty pleasure. She loves Greek Mythology and Egyptian history, enjoys Shakespeare's writings and A.A. Milne's stories. She's an avid reader, willing to read anything that catches her eye and sparks her interest. She loves thriller, suspense and horror books and movies. If it gets her to think or can scare her, she returns to it again and again. Her absolute favorite musicals are 'Phantom Of The Opera' and 'West Side Story', discounting 'Grease' because we both love that one and have watched it a few times together. She's read so many things, my head begins spinning when she talks about them because she fires off so much information at such a rapid pace that I can't absorb it all. "What do you usually eat on St. Patrick's Day?"
She giggles, finding it a silly question. "Corn beef and cabbage. Auntie usually puts two or three briskets of corn beef in, a big bag of peeled and cut up potatoes, two bags of peeled and quartered carrots, three heads of cabbage and some seasonings in the huge pots, broiling it all and adding the things one at a time. It comes out really good."
See what I mean? That was more info than most people give out at one time, it's worse when she talks about what she's reading and much worse when it involves Shakespeare. "So what's your aunt making tonight?"
"She's not cooking, I am. I cook dinner during the week cuz she and Chris work past 6, making it too late for either of them to make dinner. She usually makes dinner Sunday and Chris is Saturday. This weekend is different, auntie and the girls are going over a friend's on Saturday and Chris and Angelo are hanging with Joey for the weekend. That just leaves you and I."
"Do you need help? I can keep the girls occupied or something," I offer.
"I dunno." She leads me up a driveway, lets herself in and greets one of the kids I don't recognize. "Could you let Ms. Brennan know I'm here to get Taylor D.?"
"Her last name isn't Kirkpatrick?"
"No, it's Davey. She remarried and he left while she was pregnant with Tay, having gone back to Kirkpatrick in case she ever needed or wanted to take me for an indefinite period of time so that it'd be easier to show guardianship of me."
"I guess it makes sense, Kirky."
"Yay! 'Drya came!" Tay yells, almost ready to hike the few blocks home.
A woman about thirty follows her, papers in hand and I'm clueless on what to do. She looks up and smiles at me, offering her hand. I swiftly take it, shake it and smile with a nod. "I'm Ms. Brennan, you must be 'Drya's boyfriend, Alex."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Are there any papers that may need looking over by my aunt?" 'Drya requests.
"Yes, we need these field trip slips signed, these dental exam slips filled out and it's almost time for her second renewal for the year."
"Twice a year?"
"To ensure she gets her medical screenings and nothing else has changed."
"Ok, I'll make sure she gets them," she replies, putting them in the outer pocket of her bag. "Ready to go, Tay?" she asks the toddler, smiling softly at her and offering her hand so that the smaller girl can place hers inside.
"Can zip me?" Tay asks.
'Drya scrunches up her face and shakes her head, waving at the idea. "No need, it's very warm out." She offers her hand again and Tay slips her hand into it, 'Drya slipping her free hand into mine as we head to her house.
Once we get home, she gets Tay down for her usual nap and I glance at the clock to confirm my suspicion of that's when she calls me when I'm at home to find I'm right. We sit on the front steps, 'Drya with a baby monitor attached to her hip and talk while we wait for her other three cousins to get home. Two are second and fifth grade, attending the elementary school and Molly attends high school with me. Molly has after school practice, basketball, I think. 'Drya is the only one to pick up and drop off Tay, usually being the first one home unless she has cheer practice. On days she has cheer practice, she gets Tay and meets Emily and Kate there, paying for the hour they're there with her allowance to make it easier on her aunt and Chris. "What are you making for dinner?" I ask curiously.
"Chicken quesadillas, fully loaded. Sour cream, salsa, lettuce, tomatoes, beans, chili sauce, taco sauce, and shredded cheese."
"That sounds good," I say, about to drool.
"Cuz it is, papi."
Once the other two girls are home, Molly has practice until 6 'Drya informs me and begins prepping dinner. She flicks on the radio, a station that plays the hot music for our ages and helps Emily and Kate start chores, giving them specific tasks. She pulls out the pans she's going to need, setting our plates on the counter and the ingredients are lined up in the order she's going to use them. She's insanely organized, sometimes it's aggravating. She's set this whole house up to her convenience, chores and all. She begins singing and dancing along with Aaliyah's 'Back & Forth' as she cooks. She just cooks her boricua butt off, enjoying it and I watch her work her magic, chuckling every now and again to myself.
"Tay! Emmy! Kate!" I hear three sets of feet and they run right to her, she hands them a plate to set at the table. Three plates have one quesadilla, three others have two and two have three. She puts a plate with two and another with three in the fridge for Bev and Chris, remembering Angelo last second to prepare a plate with three on it. Three plates are in the fridge for the adults who are working at the current time. Her plate and mine are at the ends of the table, the other four divided between the two sides. She places a plate of two wraps into the microwave and cleans up the ingredients, putting everything in its place and washing the pan she used. Once she's done with it all, she turns the radio down to a barely audible level from the table and sits at the table, we pray over our food and being thankful for the meal. "Amen. How was your day, girls?" She launches in caregiver mode, asking about things most parents or older siblings would and I suppose that she's become like their sister since a couple years ago, falling into a set routine.
They excitedly and become somewhat animated as they converse about things that have happened today, Tay turning to me as silence falls around me. "Y tu, Alex?" Tay can speak limited Spanish, but is fluent in English and 'Drya tries to help equalize Tay's Spanish speaking vocabulary by teaching her a little each week.
"I went to school, got through class and I'm here." What else can I say? I can't tell these little girls I want to make out with my girlfriend. I can't tell them I skipped last period or what was said between 'Drya and I.
"Normal day," Emily mutters, taking a gigantic bite of her wrap and smiles while she chews.
The girls are in the backyard with 'Drya and I when Molly comes home, yelling she's back and will eat after her shower. Sometime later, she comes out with her plate that had been set aside for her and sits on the ground next to the yard swing on 'Drya's other side. "How can you cook so good?" she compliments 'Drya.
"Having to cook for myself for the past five years, being the only one home by ten at night."
Although I had complimented her culinary skills earlier, I have to playfully one up Molly. "It was delicious, mami. Next time I'll make dinner," I announce.
"You will be doing that tomorrow," 'Drya informs me, giving me a soft poke in the ribs with her elbow and smirking at me.
"No problema, baby."
"That's right it's not." She's teasing because I've been talking about making her dinner for the last few days, planning it out to the finest details as the weekend got closer and closer, the smallest bit finalized in my mind just a few minutes ago.
It's probably close to 7 now and 'Drya stands up, calls the younger three for bath and movie time before bed by 10:30 because it's a weekend night they can stay up past 9p, according to their ages. She bathes them, sets them up for a movie and I sit on the window seat once she motions for me to come sit in our normal spot here. We curl up together and pretend to watch the movie, stealing small kisses every so often with our hands pressed together. Molly keeps a close watch on us, being overprotective until Chris gets home. The movie ends and she endures the bedtime routine flawlessly, taking her time with the three younger girls. Molly looks at me, an angry and accusing glare in her eyes. I give her a smile, killing her with kindness just to piss her off. "Yes, Molly?"
"What do you want?"
I know what she means, but I'm going to play coy. "What do mean what do I 'want'?"
"You're dating her for more than you let on, I've talked to Andrew," she elaborates, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees.
Andrew is a friend of mine at school and I've just found out that he's a squealer. "Andrew is full of shit, we both know he'd say anything to see a good fight while he rolls on the ground with laughter."
It's truth and probably why he's a squealer, he'd rat his own mom out for a good laugh-inducing fight. "True, but we're talking about the one that sat through roll call for final period and then skipped out on it," she retorts.
"I'm back!" Chris yells, closing the front door and heading upstairs.
"Up here!" 'Drya yells back.
I hear Chris run up the stairs as Molly places his plate in the microwave and warm it for him, following suit and talking in Spanish, believing I don't understand what's she's saying. "Why do you bother talking in Spanish? He understands it, might as well talk in English," Chris tells her, descending the stairs as the microwave beeps and I round the side of them. "Hey, man!" he greets me.
"Sup? When's Angelo getting here? I'm down to kick his butt at Pong on your old as sin Atari!" I smirk.
He chortles for a minute, heading to the kitchen for his dinner and shakes his head. "He should be home by 8, not soon enough."
"I'll let you have the fantastic grub 'Drya made," I say, clapping my hand to his shoulder once his plate is on the table and he's sat down.
"Thanks, we'll talk after."
"Sure thing. We need to discuss a couple things," I say, nodding toward the stairs.
"-my own mistakes, Molls. It's my relationship and the two of us are good together. Silencio!" we hear 'Drya's end of the argument as she and Molly were in the middle of, raising her hand as if to stop her cousin from saying another word.
"But, 'Sandrya, he's a player! He's dating another chick! The other one goes to a different school! I swear!" she argues, chasing after a speed walking 'Drya.
"You don't have the pictures, videos or proof of any sorts! Not another word! Nada, nada, Molly! End of of it! Finito!" she screams, crossing and uncrossing her arms like an umpire declaring a player safe in rapid succession.
"But, 'Sandrya!"
"Pero nada, Molly! We are together and that's final!"
Chris sharply whistles by folding his bottom lip in a little, gaining both girls' attention immediately. His head drops into his hands before letting his eyes meet Molly's. "I'm going to tell you exactly what mom did before-back off and let her make her mistakes, she's going to get her heart broken a few times and find herself at some point in life. I've backed off and she's stopped rebelling as much against me."
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