See Me(60)

Once they were seated, her cousin Anna brought glasses of water and a basket of chips and salsa to the table. Maria chatted with her briefly and introduced Colin a second time. When Anna left, Maria leaned across the table.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t come in as much as I should. They’re probably as excited as my parents.”

“How many of your relatives work here?”

“Right now?” She made a quick scan of the place, spotting another uncle at the bar and a couple of aunts waiting on tables. “I’d guess there’s probably six or so. But I’d have to ask my parents to be sure.”

He surveyed the restaurant. “It’s busy in here.”

“It always is. Over the years, we’ve had to expand the restaurant three times. When it first started, there were only eight tables.” As she answered, she saw her parents emerge from the kitchen and she sat up straighter. “Okay, they’re coming. My parents, I mean.”

When her parents reached the table, she kissed her mother, then her father, all the while hoping they wouldn’t make a spectacle. “This is my friend Colin,” she said. “These are my parents, Felix and Carmen.”

“Hi,” Felix and Carmen said, almost in unison, both of them plainly giving him the once-over.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” he said.

“Maria says you’re a student?” Felix said, jumping right in. “And that you work as a bartender?”

“Yes,” Colin responded. “Serena’s actually in a couple of my classes. I work at Crabby Pete’s, down by the beach.” Then, no doubt thinking of Maria’s worries and not wanting to get drawn into a long conversation about his past, he motioned around the restaurant. “This is an incredible business you’ve built. How long has it been around?”

“Thirty-one years,” Felix answered, a trace of pride in his voice.

“Maria said you’ve had to expand over the years. That’s impressive.”

“We’ve been blessed,” Felix agreed. “Have you eaten here before?”

“No,” Colin admitted. “But Maria says your wife is an amazing chef.”

Felix stood a little straighter. “She is the best,” he said, glancing over at Carmen. “Of course, because of that, she sometimes believes that she is the boss.”

“I am the boss,” Carmen said in somewhat broken English.

Colin smiled, and after more small talk, Maria watched as her dad reached for her mom’s arm.

“Let’s go. We should let them visit,” Felix said.

After saying good-bye, Maria watched her parents start back toward the kitchen.

“You know they’re in there talking about you right now with Tito and Anna and all the rest of them. Aside from Luis, you’re the only guy I’ve ever brought here.”

“I’m honored,” he said, and she had a feeling he actually meant it.

“It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” she added.

“They’re gracious people.”

“Yes, but I’m still their daughter. And they didn’t ask any hard questions.”

“Maybe they won’t.”

“Oh, they will eventually. Unless, of course, we never see each other again.”

“Is that what you want?”

Maria dropped her eyes for a moment. “No,” she said. “I’m glad we’re here. And I’m happy we’ll be spending some time together this weekend.”

“Which means?”

“That the next time we’re all together – assuming there will be a next time – I’m going to be even more nervous.”





Minutes later, Carmen and two of Maria’s cousins began ferrying food to the table: plates of tacos, burritos, mole poblano, and enchiladas; tamales, carne asada, chile relleno, tilapia Veracruz, and a bowl of salad. As her mom began placing the dishes on the table, Maria waved her hands.

“Mom – this is way too much,” Maria protested. Even Colin appeared to be surprised as all the plates began to arrive.

“Eat what you want,” Carmen answered in Spanish. “We’ll bring the rest of it to the back and set it out. People will finish it.”

“But…”

Carmen glanced at Colin, then back to Maria. “Your sister was right. He’s very handsome.”

“Mom!”

“What? He doesn’t understand me.”

“That’s not the point!”

“It’s just good to see you happy. Your dad and I have been worried. All you ever do is work.” She smiled before her gaze returned to Colin. “Colin? Is that an Irish name?”

“I have no idea.”

“Is he Catholic?”

“I haven’t asked him.”

“What do you talk about?”

You have no idea, Maria thought. And you don’t want to know. “It’s not polite to talk in front of him like this, you know.”

“Of course,” her mom said, squeezing the last plate between their water glasses. “You’re absolutely right.” Switching to English, she smiled at Colin. “Please… enjoy,” she offered.