her cheek. She is beautiful in a rugged and hidden way, as if her beauty were a weakness that she feels she needs to conceal. I wonder if she’s this closed off all of the time or if it’s my presence causing her distance.
Golden eyes clearly come from Jaylee’s dad’s side. Gladys’ are a light caramel and they flash warmly at me again as if to apologize for Janet’s cool reception. Gladys is robust and teeming with goodwill, humor, and mischievousness. It seems that she’s impressed with Jaylee’s choice of a lover and doesn’t disapprove one bit. She’s possibly even culling some pleasure out of the obvious disappointment Janet displays toward the situation. She is my immediate ally. I have the feeling that Gladys would side with me even if things weren’t to work out between Jaylee and I.
“Are you hungry?” Janet asks apprehensively.
“I am,” I reply smiling.
“Do you like Spanish food?” she asks me.
“I do,” I reply, beaming. This could go on forever.
I’m not surprised that she’s unhappy with the idea of her son being with me – I’m sympathetic. I would absolutely forbid my daughters to date a man twenty years their senior. It’s hypocrisy on my part most likely based on gender bias. I would be disappointed too, if I were her. She naturally wants a young bride for him – someone who will provide gorgeous grandchildren and fill her house with family. She might also want someone Dominican; maybe she already has her designated and I’m destroying the plan. Of course, I’ll never know, it’s all speculation my mind is running with because I’m nervous. I want to reassure her that it’s not permanent, that I promise not to ruin Jaylee’s life. I don’t though because that would also be speculation. No one knows how this thing, and now it’s officially a thing because I’m standing here in his kitchen , will end.
I’m wracking my brain for the right thing to say that will alleviate the tension when Jaylee’s sister waltzes in and everyone’s attention zips to her. To say that Janinie is beautiful is an understatement. She is a stunning head-turner already at sixteen. Her eyes are the same brilliant caramel as her grandmother’s and she has a bone structure so striking it makes me want to reach out and touch her face. Her raven black, straightened hair shines halfway down her back. She gives me a rude once-over as if we were two girls in a club and hangs her arm around Jaylee’s neck possessively. He elbows her in the ribs and she shrieks “Qué?” in return. Then she pouts, saunters over to me and gives me a kiss on the cheek along with an exaggerated “Hola.” She then pops a fried plantain into her mouth and lifts the top off of the pot on the stove to stir the steaming lunch the women have prepared.
“Cochina!” Gladys snaps and smacks Janinie’s backside. Janinie is unfazed and slurps a bite off of the serving spoons and grabs another plantain before waltzing out and slipping her feet into a pair of high-heeled clogs. She throws a denim jacket over her shoulder in the attached hallway, gathers her hair and pulls it around her neck to hang over one shoulder. Her nails are freshly manicured.
“Janinie! Maleducada!” Gladys quips.
Janinie leans her head back so that her hair fans out behind her as she peeks around the kitchen doorframe. She coos, “Sorrrry, nice to meet you,” in the most disingenuous fashion and with a falsely exaggerated accent to boot.
“You too,” I manage while Gladys mutters an apology and Janet shrugs her shoulders at me.
“She’s jus sixteen,” she explains and I nod in understanding.
Janinie’s presence has the same magnetic quality to it that her brother’s has. They both possess a charismatic self-assurance that’s palpable. There is cockiness there to be sure, but also a natural inner glow that is radiant and sucks people in. The pull is riveting and it’s hard to focus on anything else when either one of them are in the
Golden eyes clearly come from Jaylee’s dad’s side. Gladys’ are a light caramel and they flash warmly at me again as if to apologize for Janet’s cool reception. Gladys is robust and teeming with goodwill, humor, and mischievousness. It seems that she’s impressed with Jaylee’s choice of a lover and doesn’t disapprove one bit. She’s possibly even culling some pleasure out of the obvious disappointment Janet displays toward the situation. She is my immediate ally. I have the feeling that Gladys would side with me even if things weren’t to work out between Jaylee and I.
“Are you hungry?” Janet asks apprehensively.
“I am,” I reply smiling.
“Do you like Spanish food?” she asks me.
“I do,” I reply, beaming. This could go on forever.
I’m not surprised that she’s unhappy with the idea of her son being with me – I’m sympathetic. I would absolutely forbid my daughters to date a man twenty years their senior. It’s hypocrisy on my part most likely based on gender bias. I would be disappointed too, if I were her. She naturally wants a young bride for him – someone who will provide gorgeous grandchildren and fill her house with family. She might also want someone Dominican; maybe she already has her designated and I’m destroying the plan. Of course, I’ll never know, it’s all speculation my mind is running with because I’m nervous. I want to reassure her that it’s not permanent, that I promise not to ruin Jaylee’s life. I don’t though because that would also be speculation. No one knows how this thing, and now it’s officially a thing because I’m standing here in his kitchen , will end.
I’m wracking my brain for the right thing to say that will alleviate the tension when Jaylee’s sister waltzes in and everyone’s attention zips to her. To say that Janinie is beautiful is an understatement. She is a stunning head-turner already at sixteen. Her eyes are the same brilliant caramel as her grandmother’s and she has a bone structure so striking it makes me want to reach out and touch her face. Her raven black, straightened hair shines halfway down her back. She gives me a rude once-over as if we were two girls in a club and hangs her arm around Jaylee’s neck possessively. He elbows her in the ribs and she shrieks “Qué?” in return. Then she pouts, saunters over to me and gives me a kiss on the cheek along with an exaggerated “Hola.” She then pops a fried plantain into her mouth and lifts the top off of the pot on the stove to stir the steaming lunch the women have prepared.
“Cochina!” Gladys snaps and smacks Janinie’s backside. Janinie is unfazed and slurps a bite off of the serving spoons and grabs another plantain before waltzing out and slipping her feet into a pair of high-heeled clogs. She throws a denim jacket over her shoulder in the attached hallway, gathers her hair and pulls it around her neck to hang over one shoulder. Her nails are freshly manicured.
“Janinie! Maleducada!” Gladys quips.
Janinie leans her head back so that her hair fans out behind her as she peeks around the kitchen doorframe. She coos, “Sorrrry, nice to meet you,” in the most disingenuous fashion and with a falsely exaggerated accent to boot.
“You too,” I manage while Gladys mutters an apology and Janet shrugs her shoulders at me.
“She’s jus sixteen,” she explains and I nod in understanding.
Janinie’s presence has the same magnetic quality to it that her brother’s has. They both possess a charismatic self-assurance that’s palpable. There is cockiness there to be sure, but also a natural inner glow that is radiant and sucks people in. The pull is riveting and it’s hard to focus on anything else when either one of them are in the
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