Sofia goes home

(Sofia)

Walking in from the garage, I set my purse on the table in the breakfast nook and walk over to the fridge to get a glass of water. I pour a tall glass, take a long drink, and try to prepare myself for the interrogation from Marisol. I can hear the TV in the other room, emitting the high-pitched voices and blasting the sound effects of some cartoon. Before I can even set the glass down, I hear the familiar patter of small feet.

“Mami!” Mateo barrels into me first, wrapping his arms around my legs. Julian follows a second later, crashing into the other side with enough force to nearly knock the water out of my hand.

I set the glass on the table and crouch down, hugging them both tight. “Hi, mis amores. How was your night with Tía Mari?”

“Good!” Mateo says, quickly pulling away. “We got to eat pancakes and watched the movie with the cars that talk!”

Julian nods excitedly. “Funny!”

I laugh and kiss the tops of their heads. “That’s my big boys. Now go finish your show. I’ll come play in a minute, okay?”

They scamper off, drawn to what sounds like an explosion happening on the TV. I straighten, grabbing my glass for another drink, and catch Marisol’s smirk from the corner of my eye. She’s leaning over the island, resting her chin on one of her hands, and arching an eyebrow at me, waiting.

I don’t say anything, just hold up a finger to signal for her to wait. Walking over to where I can see the boys, I make sure they’re thoroughly distracted and rejoin her.

After one last drink, I set the glass on the counter and turn to face her.

“Okay,” I start, keeping my voice low. “Go ahead. Get it out so we can have a proper conversation.”

Marisol doesn’t hesitate. She stands up straighter, throwing her hands out to her sides dramatically, like she’s silently asking, “what?!” When she does speak, she drops her voice to match mine, but there’s laughter bubbling under every word.

“Sooo,” she says, drawing the word out as her eyes sparkle with pure mischief, “let’s hear it. You said you were taking him and a couple of his friends out for his birthday as a present last night. Not that you were going to bring him home and be his birthday present!”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, already fighting a smile. “Mari…”

“No, no, please explain it to me.” She steps closer, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper even though the boys are fully engrossed in their cartoon. “Because when you left this morning you said you wanted to drive him home so you could have a ‘talk,’” she says, making air quotes. “And now?” She circles her hand in the direction of my head, looking at my hair. “Now you look like you spent the last hour having your bun used like some sort of handle! Look at it,” she laughs, reaching over and flicking at where a lot of my hair has come loose.

I exhale through my nose, trying not to laugh at her expression, and picturing how I look. “It wasn’t an hour.”

“Oh my God.” Her hand flies to her mouth again, delightedly. “That’s how you respond? No arguing what you did? Fifi! That’s basically a confession.”

“Keep your voice down,” I hiss, glancing toward the living room. “And excuse me, none of this is your business in the first place. But yes, we did talk. And he was really… kinda sweet about the whole thing. I don’t know, it made me want to give him a little something.”

Marisol’s eyes go comically wide, and she fans herself with one hand like she’s overheating. “So you went up to his place?”

“No! Of course not. He invited me up, but I knew you were here with the boys, so I told him no.”

Marisol’s face looks even more shocked and entertained. “Wait, so you, Ms. Prim and Proper, did something with him in your car? You were driving. What could you have possibly done?”

I can feel my face going red at being called out with all of this. “We stopped to talk, and then…” I pause, shrugging one shoulder after a second and fidgeting with my glass. “I let him drive the rest of the way home while I… you know.”

Marisol lets out a squeal, shaking her hands out, then clamps her lips together when she remembers the kids. “Ohmigod! Are you kidding me?” she laughs. “You just made him finish all over himself and then have to walk to his apartment like that? Did anyone see him?”

“What? No, I didn’t make him ‘finish all over himself.’”

“I don’t get it. Then what did you–” her eyes narrow when she starts questioning, then go wide again when her girlish brain starts to put it all together. “Ew! You actually…? You do that? That’s so gross!” She’s practically dying of laughter even though her face is mixed with revulsion. “I never would’ve pictured you of all people doing something like that.”

“Again, none of this is even your business!” I exclaim, already regretting having shared anything. If she hadn’t brought the boys home so early, she never would’ve known a thing about any of this. “But why is it ‘ew?’” I ask, looking at her while she’s still laughing. Also, just because I never talked about what I did with boys when we were growing up doesn’t mean I don’t do… ‘things,’ thank you very much.”

Marisol is back to leaning on the counter with her hands over her mouth and her eyebrows raised in surprise, shaking her head.

“With the way you always were before you got married, I would’ve thought you’d be doing that even more than me,” I finish.

“Ay, mami, no! I’m sorry, have you not seen this?” Marisol says, straightening up and waving her hands over her chest and face. “Uh-uh. I don’t need to do stuff like that to get los chicos lining up.”

I laugh at her response. “I don’t need to do it either,” I clarify. “So, who’s the prim and proper one now?”

“Pfft,” she snorts back, making a face like she’s saying, “Whatever.” Stepping over to the fridge, she grabs one of the little bottles of juice from inside. However, when she walks back over to the island next, her expression softens a little. The teasing in her face has finally subdued. She reaches out and squeezes my forearm. “Okay. Real talk now. How are you actually feeling? And I don’t mean tu panocha,” she says with one last smirk, glancing down my body. “I mean like… in here.” She taps her own chest.

Enjoying the story? You can support my work on Patreon where this story is currently through chapter 142 at the time of this posting. Happy reading!