"¡Estoy que exploto! Estoy muy furioso."
Even without him saying it verbatim, it was very obvious that Alejandro Rodriguez was on the brink of fury. His heavy panting, red eyes, veins popping out on every inch of his face and the volume of his voice all pointed that. It was the most terrifying sight and I couldn't help but shiver in my seat.
"Estás bromeando, ¿verdad?" The silence after his question told him that it wasn't a joke and he growled before banging his clenched fists on the expensive table in front of him. Diego had once told me the table was made of African Blackwood and I had gone online that same night to search for the value of the wood. Regardless of how angry I got, I knew I'd never be able to strike such a luxury with any kind of force.
Beside the fuming man was a quaking woman. She wasn't shaking in fear though, more of anxiety or maybe sadness. Sara Rodriguez. I couldn't help but feel a little pity for her, she seemed like the most affected by the news. Even more affected by me and that was saying something.
"Diego, why would you do this to yourself? Estoy deprimida. Do you want me to die? This was not what I planned for you, chiquito." She dabbed her tearstained face in delicate motions with a handkerchief. "This was not what we planned. Why did you have to do this, chiquito? ¿Por qué?"
In spite of myself, I wanted to walk across and pull the older woman in a tight hug. She looked like she needed something like that. However her husband, who still stood beside her raging like an erupting volcano, looked like he needed an icy bath. If I squinted my eyes in deep concentration, I was almost sure I'd see fumes and smokes coming out of his ears. I wondered if a fire extinguisher was close by, it might come in handy.
"Diego!" His voice thundered in the exquisite study and I flinched.
The man in front of me answered. Although his knees looked like they were seconds away from buckling in fear, his voice came out surprisingly stable and strong. "Padre."
"What did you come to tell me and your mother? Say it again, I want to hear you say it again, ¡la madre que te patio!"
He took a pause before answering. "I am going to be a father." He pointed at me and my eyes bulged in alarm. "My girlfriend is pregnant right now. She's 4 months gone."
Sara let out a pained cry and Alejandro paused his angry ministrations to tend to his heartbroken wife. Judging by how soft-spoken he was while doing that, it was obvious he loved the woman.
"Lo lamento, perdóname mama." I wasn't too proficient in spanish but I knew Diego was apologizing to his mother. The man holding her stopped his ministrations to his wife to glare at the source of those apologetic words. The icy stare almost made me run out of the house.
"¡Cállate!"
Diego gulped down his unsaid pleas and Sara's sniffles filled the room. I hated the fact that I was the cause for the woman's tears. I hated seeing people in pain and confusion, that was one of the reasons I chose psychology as my field of study. If it was a therapy session, I'd have given her a piece of candy but I couldn't offer her that at the moment. I was the reason she was in pain.
"So what are your plans, chiquito? What are you going to do about her?" Sara looked at me with so much hatred in her eyes, I felt my bones melt in the heated stare. "¡Puta!"
Diego stood before me protectively and defended me. "Don't you dare call her that, Madre. She's pregnant with my child and we're getting married as soon as possible." He ignored Sara's shocked gasp and continued. "I know this was not your plan for me and I'm deeply sorry about this but it has already happened. You'd have to deal with it because we're getting married, with or without your consent."
I dropped my head and wriggled my sweaty fingers on my thighs while waiting for the Alejandro's thundering voice. It didn't come though. In its place was a steely but barely audible voice.
"Get out."
"Pa-"
His voice increased slightly. "Get out right now. You and the lady, leave immediately. ¡Capullo!"
.
.
.
.
"Mummy."
I jerked and turned slowly to the source of the faint voice that drew me out of my reverie. Mikayla had a slightly confused look on her face before rubbing her sleepy eyes. I felt a trickle lick my wet cheek and I rubbed at it hastily so my daughter wouldn't notice. Her perplexed expression when she saw me was similar to Nelly's and I stifled the guilty feeling that tried to creep in.
"Good morning, Mama." I smiled and replied her greeting.
"Morning, bebe. Hope you slept well?" She nodded and hummed her agreement.
"Mhmmm." She looked around the room before turning her attention back to me. "What happened? Why are you still here?"
That guilty feeling seeped in again and a sigh escaped my lips before I could stop it. "Uh, I took a leave off work to stay home. You look surprised though."
Kayla shrugged wordlessly and enquired about Nelly. "Where's aunt Lee? Is she in the living room?"
I shook my head. "Aunty Lee won't be around today. Maybe tomorrow too."
The little girl scratched her head in obvious confusion. "Why? Does she have to go to work?"
I scoffed inwardly. Nelly going to work? The sun had more chances of freezing over than Nelly had of going to work. So I smiled at Kayla's innocent question. "No. She has a date to go to today." And I wasn't even lying about it. Although Nelly called it a booty call, she still had a date to go to. Sex date was still a date.
My daughter started to nod before a yawn escaped her lips. I chuckled and approached her to poke my finger in her tummy. Her laughs raked through her body as my poking turned to tickling. Mikayla's sides were very sensitive to touch and it made it extremely easy to make her a laughing mess. "You're hungry, aren't you? You famished, little, baby koala."
She nodded while wiping her eyes of the tears that her laughter had caused to gather. "I want to eat now."
I stood upright and pointed to the door. "That's fine. So you should just go and brush, take your bath and wait in the kitchen for me to whip up something for you." I frowned slightly as the little girl started to shake her head in disagreement. "Kayla, what's up?"
"I don't need to brush and bathe before eating breakfast. Aunt Lee lets me eat without doing those."
I raised my brow in question before my face scrunched in mild disgust. Of course, Nelly would allow my baby eat without brushing her teeth. That was a typical Nelly thing to do. The woman was a hopeless slob anyways. Even though I had intentions of lashing out at her, I put that aside and focused on the little latina staring at me with a curious look on her face. I smiled and shook my head.
"It's quite unfortunate that aunty Lee let you do that but it's not appropriate. There's a reason dentists ask us to brush before eating and it's necessary we abide by it. You wouldn't want to have a toothache now, would you?" Mikayla shook her head vigorously and I fought to hold in the amused chuckle threatening to come out. "Well, I wouldn't want that either. For you or for me. That's why it's best we both brush before going to eat."
Mikayla jumped off the bed and stripped hastily before running to the bathroom. As I fixed the bed in the small room, I shook my head in repressed humor. Kids were hard to understand, yet so easy to manipulate. I imagined Mikayla sitting in a dentist's office because she ate without brushing her teeth. I wrote a mental letter of warning to Nelly for making my daughter cultivate such a dirty habit. Trust Nelly to be a bad influence even to an 8 year old.
We both settled in the tiny kitchen after brushing our teeth and bathing. I opened the fridge and cupboards to see what was available. Although there were several boxes of cereals, Kayla did not ever consider them as a breakfast choice. She always wanted something boiled, fried or baked for breakfast and personally, I thought it was even better that way. I placed some ingredients I had taken out from the cupboard on the kitchen island.
"There's flour, baking powder, buttermilk, eggs, graham crackers, canola, sugar. Oh, marshmallows too. Let's make S'mores waffles." Kayla nodded and drummed her fingers excitedly on the island. Mikayla loved waffles. Any kind at all- Belgian waffles, chicken-and-waffles combo, potato waffles, hot dog waffles, Leige waffles. She could take them for breakfast, lunch and dinner. That's how much she loved them. As much as Nelly loved her, the woman didn't make them for her. Infact she didn't make anything except scrambled eggs for her. Nelly would rather order take-ins.
I rubbed her head and got down to work. As I measured out flour, sugar, baking powder, graham crackers crumbs, buttermilk and some other ingredients into the mixing bowl, I hummed a catchy tune under my breath. I broke the eggs in the bowl and started singing. By the time I was done mixing the ingredients in the bowl, I was already performing the Superbowl halftime show with discography, choreography and pizzazz. Even to a stranger, it would be obvious that I was born to be a performer. Since I didn't get to do all that on a concert stage, I made sure to always do it in the shower, kitchen and car. When Mikayla was younger, she used to be my greatest fan. Always cheering for me and applauding my entertainment, especially when I sang those fairytale songs. At the moment however, her blank expression leaned close to boredom. Nonetheless, I put my whole soul into my performance, completely ignoring her displeasure.
I sprayed the waffle iron with a non-stick cooking spray and waited for it to heat up before pouring some batter into it. The sizzling sound the batter made with the hot metal made me nod in satisfaction. I closed the lid of the waffle iron and set the timer. Placing a lightly browned waffle inside a square outline of marshmallows after the timer had dinged, I put 6 little chocolate bars in some of the waffle pockets and used the kitchen torch on it. Finally, I drizzled some caramel sauce on the delicacy and slid the plate to an already salivating Kayla.