See Me(51)

While her dad returned to the porch, she retrieved a glass from the cupboard and poured herself some wine before sidling up to her mother. By then, Carmen had loaded up a casserole dish with pot roast, mashed potatoes, green beans, and a biscuit – enough calories for a couple of days, Maria estimated – and was sliding the dish into the oven. For whatever reason – maybe because it was something they never served at the restaurant – her dad loved pot roast and mashed potatoes.

“I’m so glad you came by,” her mom said. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Maria said. She leaned against the counter and took a sip of wine. “I just wanted to surprise you.”

“So you say. But something must have happened,” she said. “You never visit us during the week.”

“That’s why it’s a surprise.”

Carmen evaluated her before crossing over to the counter and retrieving her own wineglass. “Is it your sister?”

“Is what my sister?”

“She didn’t get turned down for the scholarship, did she?”

“You know about that?”

Carmen motioned to a letter tacked up on the refrigerator. “It’s exciting, isn’t it? She told us about it last night. The director will be coming to dinner this Saturday.”

“Really?”

“We wanted to meet him,” she said. “The letter says that she’s one of the semifinalists. But back to your sister. What happened? If it’s not about that, then it must have something to do with a boy. She’s not in trouble, is she?”

Her mom was talking so fast that even Maria had trouble keeping up. “Serena’s fine, as far as I know.”

“Ah.” Her mother nodded. “Good. It’s something at your work, then. You’re the one having problems.”

“Work is… work. Why would you think there’s a problem?”

“Because you came straight here afterwards.”

“So?”

“That’s what you’ve always done whenever something was bothering you. Don’t you remember? Even in college, if you thought you got a bad grade, or when you were having trouble with your roommate your freshman year, or whenever you fought with Luis, you always came here. Mothers remember those kinds of things.”

Huh, she thought. I never realized that. She changed the subject. “I think you worry too much.”

“And I think I know my daughter.”

Maria smiled. “How’s Dad?”

“He’s been quiet since he got home. He had to fire two people this week.”

“What did they do?”

“Same old stuff. One of the dishwashers skipped a couple of shifts, and one of the waiters was letting his friends eat for free. You know how it goes. But it’s still hard on your father. He wants to trust everyone, and he’s always disappointed when people let him down. It wears on him. When he got home today, he took a nap instead of taking Copo out for a walk.”

“Maybe he needs to see a doctor.”

“That’s what we were talking about when you came in.”

“What does he say?”

“He says he’ll go. But you know him. Unless I make the appointment, he’ll never get around to it.”

“Do you want me to call for you?”

“Would you mind?”

“Of course not,” Maria answered. Because of her mom’s language skills, she’d been making appointments ever since she was a young girl. “It’s still Dr. Clark, right?”

Her mom nodded. “And schedule him for a full physical if you can.”

“He’s not going to like that.”

“No, but he needs one. It’s been almost three years.”

“He shouldn’t wait that long. He’s got high blood pressure. And last year, he had those chest pains and he couldn’t work for a week.”

“I know, and you know, but he’s stubborn and he insists his heart is fine. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.” Her mom reached over and opened the oven; satisfied, she put on an oven mitt and pulled out the casserole dish before beginning to load up a plate for Maria.

“That’s plenty,” she said, trying to limit the quantity.

“You need to eat,” her mom insisted, continuing to pile food on the plate while Maria retrieved some utensils. “Let’s go sit with your father.”

Outside at the table, a citronella candle was burning to keep the mosquitoes at bay. The night was as perfect as her dad had promised, with only the slightest breeze and a sky embroidered with stars. Copo sat in her father’s lap, snoring slightly while his hand moved rhythmically through her fur. Maria began to cut a hunk of the pot roast into smaller pieces.

“I heard what happened today,” Maria started, initiating a stream of conversation encompassing the restaurant, local news, and the latest family gossip. In an extended family like theirs, there was always some kind of drama worth talking about and dissecting. By the time Maria had finished dinner – no more than a quarter of the plate – the crickets had begun their evening melody.

“You look like you got some sun last weekend.”

“I went paddleboarding after we had brunch.”

“With your new friend?” her mom inquired. “The one from the pier?”