Lovestruck Forever (4 page)

“Somewhere
warm, eh? How about the Caribbean?”

“I’ve
never been.”

“Nor
I.”

“I
hear the water is turquoise.”

“And
the beaches are made of white sand.”

I
closed my eyes, picturing it. Thomas and me lying in the sun, far
away from my family, his job, the fans. Far away from everything,
except each other.

“This
whole getting married sooner rather than later idea was pretty
smart,” I murmured snuggling into him further, feeling his arms
tighten around me.

I
could hear the smile in his voice when he replied. “Damn right
it was.”

The
day before our engagement party, we were assigned the task of driving
down to the city to pick up some last-minute items in Mexicantown.
Sofie was coming with us to help me show Thomas the neighborhood. I
was excited—the restaurants, bakeries, and shops in Mexicantown
had always been a huge part of my life. My dad’s family had
lived there when they first came to the States. He and my mom had a
house right down the street from his parents when they were newly
married, and we’d lived in my grandparents’ house for a
few years after they died, before moving out to the suburbs. Many of
our friends and family were still in the city.

We
picked up Sofie just before noon. As we pulled into her driveway, I
unbuckled my seatbelt, prepared to go inside and fetch her, but she
appeared on the front porch, pulling the door firmly shut behind her.

I
looked over at Thomas, eyebrows raised. “I guess she’s in
a hurry.”

Sofie
ran down the driveway past her mother’s neatly manicured hosta
plants and pulled open the passenger door behind Thomas.

“Morning,
chica.” I turned in my seat to face her. “Is your mom
home? We would have come in to say hello, you know.”

I
caught her making a face as she buckled up. “I know. I just had
to get out of that house.”

There
was something in her tone, something that spoke of more than our
usual level of well-rehearsed annoyance at our collective families.

“You
okay?”

Finished
with her seatbelt, she gave me a weak smile. “Fine. Mom’s
on my case. You know how it goes.”

That
was a bit of an understatement. I wanted to press, but she winked at
me, her smile growing slightly less wary, and I decided to drop it.
She could tell me what was going on when she was ready. “So,”
she said, her voice bright, “what’s on the agenda today?”
Before I could say anything, she hurried on. “And you better
tell me that we’re stopping at Gloria’s, or I’ll
walk right back inside, miss. Annoying mother or not.”

I
laughed, turning to face forward as Thomas pulled out of the
driveway. “Gloria’s is definitely a central part of the
plan. I’ve been trying to explain the wonder of it to Thomas,
but I’m not sure he gets it.”

Sof
closed her eyes, smiling dreamily. “You’ll see, Thomas.
It’s amazing.”

“So
I’ve been told.” He shook his head in mock irritation. “I
did try to explain to Lizzie that we do, in fact, have bakeries in
England.”

She
shook her head. “Sorry, buddy. Nothing compares to Gloria’s.”

We
spent most of the ride down to the city discussing plans for the
engagement party. Sofie had been working to get things ready with my
siblings and parents, along with her parents and her sister, Carla.
Apparently, she’d been filling tamales for the past week.

“It’s
really quite nice, isn’t it?” Thomas said, reaching
across the gearshift to take my hand. “The way you Medinas all
come together to do nice things for each other.”

Sofie
snorted in the back seat. “Nice. Yeah.”

Again,
there was something in her tone I didn’t much like. My cousin
and I had spent years of our lives bitching about our family—the
way they were always in our business, the way everyone was expected
to stay close to home, socialize close to home, marry close to home,
work close to home. It could be stifling and frustrating and down
right maddening. But we loved them, of course; complain though we
might. The six months I had spent estranged from half of my family
had been the loneliest of my life, and I was sure Sof would feel the
same way in my position. Today, though, she seemed off. I couldn’t
put my finger on what it was, exactly, but Thomas was nearing the
exit to Mexicantown, and I had to focus on giving him directions.

“I
figured we should eat first, so the groceries don’t have to
sit,” I explained, and Sof nodded wordlessly from the back
seat, her attention on her window, her gaze unfocused.

I
directed Thomas to a parking lot across the street from Garcia’s,
my favorite restaurant in the neighborhood. As we piled out of the
car, my cousin seemed to brighten. I couldn’t blame her. We
finally had a true spring day—warm and sunny with few clouds in
the sky, and we had all afternoon to ourselves, away from anything
that might be annoying us at home.

“This
place has great food, Thomas,” she said as we crossed the
street. “Our family goes way back with the owner. There’s
a banquet room in the back that has seen many of our little shindigs.
Lizzie even had her quince here.”

Thomas
looked down at me, his eyes very green in the bright sunlight. “Your
quince, eh? I don’t think you ever told me about it.”

Sofie
grinned wickedly. “I can give you tons of dirt on Lizzie as a
teenager.”

Thomas
nudged her with his elbow, speaking from the corner of his mouth in a
loud stage whisper. “Hook me up later, yeah?”

“Ha
ha,” I muttered as Thomas held the restaurant door open for Sof
and me to lead the way inside. Garcia’s was pretty crowded for
the middle of a workday, but there were still ample tables, and we
were able to sit without a wait.

“This
is cool,” Thomas said, looking around. The restaurant was
painted in bright yellows and greens, and the walls were covered in
an array of Mexican-themed decorations like paintings, flags,
statues, and masks, some more obviously authentic than others. The
space felt slightly cluttered, but that, along with the soft
background music and the low buzz of conversations and laughter,
added to the warm vibe that permeated the place. Plus it smelled
fantastic, which was always a good thing.

“The
food is even better,” I assured him, opening my menu. They
followed suit, though I knew for sure that Sof was going to pick the
tamales. She always picked the tamales.

“What
do you recommend?” Thomas asked, squinting down at the menu. “I
haven’t heard of some of these things.”

“Well,
they have all the basic Mexican food you’re probably used to.”
I leaned into him a little so I could peer down at his menu.
“Enchiladas and burritos and stuff, which are all really good
here. They also do really nice skillet fajitas. Or you might like the
taco combination plate, they give hard and soft shells.”

“I’d
rather try something I’ve never had before,” he said, his
face scrunched up the way it gets when he concentrates. I smiled to
myself—he was so darned cute.

I
pointed out a few of the more authentic items that he wasn’t as
likely to find in a run-of-the-mill Mexican chain. “My dad
always gets this steak,” I explained, pointing at the menu.
“You’d probably like it a lot.”

“You
said the magic word.” He grinned at me. Thomas loved steak. As
expected, Sofie ordered the tamales, and I decided on the ooey-gooey
cheesiness of chicken enchiladas, trying not to think about the fact
that I was going to be trying on wedding dresses in the
not-too-distant future. We rounded out our order with a request for
margaritas, then got to work on the complimentary chips and salsa.

“So
tell me about this quince,” Thomas said. “That’s
your fifteenth birthday, right?”

I
nodded, grabbing a chip. “Yeah, it’s a pretty big deal in
our culture.”

“It’s
supposed to symbolize the girl becoming a woman,” Sofie added.
“In our family, we celebrate a special mass at church and then
everyone has a huge party.” She winked at Thomas. “Not
unlike what you can expect for your wedding.”

“Do
you get all dressed up?” he asked.

Sofie’s
mouth dropped open. “You haven’t seen pictures of her in
the quince dress?”

Thomas
shook his head, bemused by her reaction. Sofie’s gaping jaw
transformed into a mischievous grin. “Oh, just wait. I have
pictures to show you, buddy.”

Thomas
widened his eyes at me. “Should I be hurt that you’ve
never offered to show me these pictures?”

I
glared at Sofie. “I was fifteen, gangly, and had frizzy hair
and braces. My quince dress was fuchsia, covered in enough gaudy
beading to blind you from ten feet away, with a skirt almost too big
for me to fit through doorways. Sorry I didn’t want to share
those precious memories with you.”

“I’ll
hook you up,” Sofie assured him.

Clearly
trying not to laugh at the look on my face, Thomas changed the
subject. “So you had a big party here? With all your family?”

I
nodded. “It was pretty massive, to be honest. My dad basically
invited everyone we knew.”

“And
Lizzie had to do a choreographed dance in front of all of them,”
Sofie said happily.

“Oh,
and yours was so much better?” I shot back. “Don’t
forget that I have pictures, too, miss.”

She
pointed her chip at me. “Point taken. I’ll be good.”

“I
don’t know,” Thomas said, grabbing the salsa from Sofie
to scoop the last blob up onto his chip. “It sounds like fun to
me. Your entire family celebrating your birthday, good food, dancing.
I wish we had something like that.”

“Ah,
but you will,” Sofie said. “I wasn’t kidding when I
said it was a lot like what you can expect with the wedding.”
She pushed the empty chip basket away, wiping her hands on her
napkin. “Let me break it down for you: Lizzie’s sisters
and parents are going to be completely overbearing. They’ll
have a certain way they think things should go—the same way,
coincidently, that all of the previous family weddings before this
one have gone. They’ll bully you about the guest list, the
food, the venue, the clothes. And when they’re not bullying
you, they’ll just be going ahead and making decisions without
even telling you. They can’t wrap their minds around the idea
that anyone might want to do things any differently.”

As
she spoke, I realized that I was shredding my napkin into long
strips, a sure sign that I was anxious. I crumpled the whole thing
into a ball and tossed it aside. “We’re actually kind of
hoping to have the wedding in London,” I told her, eyes trained
on her face for her reaction.

She
froze, her mouth gaping again. “Seriously?

I
nodded. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

“No,”
she said quickly. “I think it’s great you want to have
the wedding there—I know how much the city means to you guys. I
just…don’t underestimate the freak out this will cause,
you know?”

“You
think they’ll be that upset?” Thomas asked.

I
could see her struggling to not roll her eyes. “I think they
will, yes. Everyone gets married in our church. Everyone has a big
reception in a hall or banquet room. It’s just the way we do
things. And no one in our family is big on bucking those kinds of
trends.”

Her
face tightened suddenly, as if she was going to be sick. Before I
could ask what was wrong, she was shaking her head. “But who
knows, maybe they’ll surprise me.”

I
could read the unspoken second half of her sentence in her face—I
doubt it.

I
sighed, looking at Thomas. “She’s probably right, about
them freaking out. I just don’t know if it’s worth it.”

“It’s
worth it to me if it’s what you want,” he said. “I’ve
already told you, I’m happy getting married wherever you are.”

“It
wouldn’t be that bad here,” Sofie added. “I know I
just spent the last five minutes ragging on them, but our family
weddings are really fun. It’s a nice gesture, too—the way
everyone gets all involved and makes a big deal out of it. Kind of
shows you that they care.”

“So,
if we got married in Detroit,” Thomas asked, “would it be
here? Where you had your quince?”

I
looked around the familiar restaurant. “I don’t know. My
sisters had their receptions at a banquet hall my dad’s uncle
owns. It’s a little bit bigger and closer to the church.”

“What’s
the banquet room here like?” he asked, looking around the room.

“You
can actually kind of see it from here,” I told him, pointing
over his shoulder to a patio visible from the window.

“We
could probably sneak back there,” Sof said. Just then her phone
rang. Was I imagining the blush that came to her cheeks when she
looked at the number? “Uh, you guys go on without me,”
she said, not meeting my eyes. “I need to take this.”

I
frowned. It wasn’t like Sofie to take a call during lunch—in
fact, we had a pretty strict rule about it. We were determined to
never turn into those people that spend all their time on their
phones, ignoring everyone around them. Before I could point this out,
Thomas was standing, extending an arm to me. “My dear,”
he said with a smile, and I stood to lead him back to the banquet
hall.

“It
looks smaller than I remember,” I murmured from the doorway,
staring into the empty, brick-walled room. “It’s hard to
imagine my entire family in here.”

“Where
was the cake?” he asked, and I led him further into the room.

“Right
over there. And the patio was open, all strung up with lights. It was
pretty.”

His
arm came around me, low on my back. “There was dancing?”

“There
was.” I smiled a little at the memory. “My dad danced
with me first. And then all of my brothers. Matias teased me the
entire time, of course, but he still did it.”