Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 149338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
We were her family.
“Alejandro Eduardo Martinez de la Cruz!” Mom shouted my whole name, pulling me away from my thoughts. She walked right over and stood in front of the television. Yelling with her hands in the air. “Tu le dijistes a Sophia que no sabes bailar?” she roared, adding, “You told Sophia that you don’t know how to dance?”
Fuck.
Sophia had been busting my balls about wedding songs and mother/son songs. I finally just said I didn’t know how to dance and she could choose whatever she wanted to get her off my ass.
“Mamá, estoy viendo una película,” I replied, “I’m watching a movie.” Moving my head to see around her with a stern expression. “Not right now.”
She didn’t falter, immediately turning around to shut it off. From the corner of my eye, I caught Sophia giggling in the archway, her hands over her mouth as she watched my mom reprimand me.
“What’s so funny, cariño?”
Her head fell back with laughter. She was definitely going to pay for this later.
“I taught you cómo bailar, to dance, by the time you were standing,” Mom reminded in an authoritative tone with a hand on her hip and the other out in front of her, waving a finger in that Hispanic mom way.
If this were anyone else but my mother, I would have never allowed it.
“Why did you lie to Sophia?”
She didn’t give me a chance to explain before continuing her outburst.
“You know how to dance to everything, especially salsa and merengue. I made sure of it.” She patted her chest, moving toward the receiver in the corner of the room.
I knew exactly what she was going to do, and I dreaded every last fucking second of it. Sophia couldn’t stop giggling and gave up on trying to hide it. Leaning against the archway with her arms crossed over her chest, enjoying the show.
“Mi Gente” by Héctor Lavoe blared through the speakers, one of her favorite songs. I took a deep breath, trying to calm the anticipation of where this was leading. She strutted her way over to me, moving her body to the rhythm of the salsa song.
“Ven,” she said, “Come.” Reaching her hands out for me.
“Mamá…” I warned.
“You don’t tell me no. Ven,” she repeated, pulling me toward her. “Show Sophia how you move. Make your mamá proud.” She placed one hand on my shoulder and the other out to the side, waiting for me to get into position. “Ready?”
“I guess I have to be,” I retorted, stepping closer, taking my mother’s hand and wrapping the other around her upper back.
We began to move. I stepped forward as she stepped back and then vice versa. My hips swayed with the beat of the music, doing a basic rock step. Repeating it a few more times, getting used to the movement until we found our synchronized pattern. I took the lead, grabbing her right hand bringing her around in an underarm turn, while our feet kept the basic rhythm going.
It didn’t take long for us to lose ourselves in the music, almost forgetting Sophia was watching.
We moved effortlessly around the living room. I brought our arms up into a cross-arm turn, spinning her and then myself, always returning to our basic hold. Our feet never missing a beat as I brought her across my body, spinning her three times across the floor toward Sophia. She stood there, watching our every move with lust in her eyes. I spun my mom one last time and eased her into a dip, taking her by surprise. Causing her to bust out laughing. It was the second best sound in the world. I loved seeing her like this, so carefree.
I locked eyes with Sophia as I brought my mom up, hugging her to my chest. Kissing her head before letting her go.
Mom danced toward Sophia who took a few steps back, putting her hands out in front of her. Shaking her head no. “I don’t know how to dance to this,” she laughed out.
“Ven, come,” she insisted, grabbing Sophia’s hands and tugging her toward her. “You learn. You need to dance like this at your wedding.” Mom winked, spinning her in my direction, letting her fall into my arms. Sophia’s face paled, shocked by my mother’s mention of a wedding. “Alejandro will teach you. Show her, Alejandro. I want to go get a camera to take pictures.”
“No, Mamá. No camera. I think you have embarrassed me enough for one day.”
“Go on, teach her. I’ll be right back.” She was a very persistent woman who went after what she wanted.
“Muy bien, cariño,” I praised, “Good job,” when I brought her against my chest. Loving the feel of her in my arms. I could never get enough of it.
“I can’t believe she’s okay with this. Us getting married so young?” she questioned with worry in her eyes.