Three days ago, I walked into the kitchen and asked Mami the magic question. With clammy hands and snow boots on, just in case I needed to make a dash for the door (they give good traction), I opened my mouth and uttered, “What if I’m pregnant?”
No. I’m joking. My ovaries are still producing eggs and my uterus remains unoccupied.
I opened my mouth and uttered, “Que pensaste de mi novio?” Mami turned to me while taking a sip of her black coffee. With pinky pointed toward the sky, I expected her to laugh like Dr. Evil, but she simply smiled, exposing her teeth like a happy mother does when pleased.
“El me callo muy bien. Es muy simpatico y parese buena gente,” she praised before walking to the living room with coffee mug in hand. I followed. The sweat of my palms evaporated. My boots shoelaces loosened.
“But there’s something I need to tell you,” I whispered as I took a seat on the long orange couch. I faced both my mother and step father now. My heart beat accelerated. My pepa™ clenched.
“He has a daughter…” I winced, expecting a serious tongue lashing and disapproving looks.
“Eso no es nada, mi hija” Mami stated calmly. My step father nodded, agreeing with his woman of almost 13 years. “Uno no controla con quien se enamora. Lo importante es que aiga respeto y amor.”
Ain’t that the truth! I wanted to shout, but didn’t. Instead, I beamed, imagining the time when I will meet his daughter and our families will unite. With Mami’s seal of approval, it’s the next logical step. I just hope his mami likes me just as much.