“I don’t know if you’ve realized it, but you’ve asked me that same question twice in the last half hour,” he replied. “Now, what’s really on your mind?”
Nervous, she inverted her lips for a brief moment. “It’s just that I know this is so different from what you’re used to.”
“Devin, do you think I’m a snob?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why do you keep asking if I’m okay? Have I done anything to give you the impression that I believe this wedding is somehow beneath me?”
She swallowed. “I…I guess I’m just self-conscious.”
“Well, cut it out. Everything’s fine.”
“The line seems to have gone down a little,” Mercy noted, looking at the buffet. “You guys ready?”
“Sure, let’s go.”
They went to the buffet and filled their plates with pastelitos, la bandera, and bowls of either asopao or black bean soup.
“Wow, this is good chicken,” David declared after tasting the la bandera. He turned to Devin. “Tell me, do you know how to make this?”
Chris laughed. “I think he’s trying to tell you something, Devin.”
She joined in the laughter. “Yes, I can,” she said in answer to David’s question. “I’ll make it for you sometime.”
*****
Dancing began after dinner, with the bride and groom kicking things off to the classic Ribbon in the Sky by Stevie Wonder. The guests were then invited to join in. Devin felt as if she were floating in David’s arms. She closed her eyes and forgot about everything and everyone else, not opening them until the music changed to a merengue.
“Uh-oh,” David said with a grin. “I think we’d better sit this one out.”
They returned to their table and watched the guests dance. Devin pointedly ignored Joe and his date, focusing instead on the graceful movements of Mercy and Chris, as well as Glenys and her new husband.
“Wow!” David said, obviously impressed. “That’s what I call dancing.” He tapped her forearm. “Can you dance like that?”
“Of course.”
“It’s like watching Fred and Ginger, except they’re dancing to Latin music. Such smooth movements…”
The swaying of his upper body paired with the sound of his feet moving on the floor told Devin that he was mimicking Chris’s steps, trying to learn them.
“I’d like to try it,” he said, “only I’m afraid I’ll make a fool of myself.”
“We can try. The fact that you’re willing to learn proves you’re not a blanquito. Stuck-up white person,” she clarified at his questioning look.
After another drink and a lot of foot movements and body swaying in his chair, David consented to get up on the floor. He insisted that Mercy and Chris join them “to block people’s view of me tripping over my feet.” He tried to emulate Chris’s steps. “I feel totally inept,” he declared as they left the dance floor early.
“You’re doing fine,” Devin replied. “Dominicans are practically born doing the merengue, but people from other cultures have to catch on to it.”
“Yeah, like the flu,” he joked. “Tell me, is the merengue the same as a salsa?”
“No. The beat is different.”
“There’s something else I’m confused about,” he began. “You said the bride is Dominican and the groom is Cuban. Is that cross-cultural marriage common?”
Devin shrugged. “Latinos do tend to marry within their nationality, but sometimes they mix. My ex—” she grimaced at the mention of Joe “—has a Dominican mother and a Puerto Rican father.”
“The bride and groom make a nice couple,” he said. “Which one is your friend?”
“The bride. Glenys and I have known each other since junior high. She lives in Union City now. She and Marco just bought a condo. Three bedrooms and two baths. They’re planning on starting a family.”
“Forgive me if I sound ignorant, Devin. I’m really trying to understand. Your parents came from the Dominican Republic, and you obviously have African blood. Do you consider yourself black, or Latina?”
“I consider myself an American, David. I was born here, just like you were. Your ancestors came from Europe, I’m guessing England or Scotland. Do you consider yourself British or Scottish?”
“Touché,” he said, looking a tad embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Devin. I’m not trying to be insulting. I just want to understand. Like, why do some people say Latino and others say Hispanic? Is it a matter of personal preference, like black and African-American, but essentially mean the same thing? And where does ‘Spanish’ fit in?”
“I know you’re not looking to insult me,” she replied, her voice caressing and gentle. “It’s just that sometimes smart, successful people like yourself are completely clueless when it comes to minorities. I’m glad you’ve asked me to clarify; it shows me that you want to be informed.” She drew in a breath. “Okay. Here’s Latina one-oh-one. Hispanics are people from Spanish-speaking countries, and Latinos are people from Latin America. They often overlap, but not always. Spain, for instance, is not part of Latin America, but they speak Spanish, so they are Hispanic but not Latino. And Brazilians are from Latin America, but because they speak Portuguese, they’re Latino but not Hispanic.” She grinned. “Are you with me?”
“Yes, I follow.”
“As for ‘Spanish’, it’s usually used incorrectly. Technically, it means people from Spain, just like people from France are French. People who speak Spanish aren’t necessarily Spanish. In fact, they most likely aren’t Spanish, at least here in New York.”
“Got it.”
“But neither Hispanic nor Latino connotates race,” Devin added with a smile. “I’m Dominican by nationality and black by race. I’ve learned to consider myself black first, because that’s how people see me. If I were pulled over by the cops—”
“Pulled over? But you don’t know how to drive.”
She chuckled. “Bad example. Okay. Let’s say I was letting myself in to your place, either the townhouse in the city or the beach house in Quogue, and the police happened to be driving by. A white woman wouldn’t attract any attention. Me, on the other hand, well, I’d probably end up getting shot.”
“Okay, this is starting to get complicated,” he said.
“Race is complicated, David. The Dominican Republic isn’t much different from the US or any other country when it comes to looking down on those with darker complexions. The dictator Rafael Trujillo was well before my time, but I’ve heard that he tried to get Dominicans to identify as either white or Indian, totally overlooking the fact that the majority of the population is of mixed race and that he himself had a Haitian grandparent. Mama always said that his self-hatred was rooted in the animosity between Dominicans and Haitians.”
“Whose countries share the same island,” David pointed out.
“That’s right, and apparently, the two groups have never gotten along. A lot of it is economic jealousy, since the Dominican Republic has a stronger economy. But race plays a big role as well. Haitians are definitely rooted in Africa, but some Dominicans try to minimize their African blood and tend to marry people with lighter complexions. My mother’s parents tried to talk her out of marrying my dad because he was dark-skinned.” Devin pointed her chin toward Mercy and Chris. “Mercy, on the other hand, is more olive. She told me once, in confidence, that her mother told her not to marry anyone darker than she is. She was thrilled when Mercy met Chris. I was with her the night they met. He’s always been nice to me, but I don’t think he ever would have considered a woman my complexion as a romantic partner, because he was probably told from an early age that that wouldn’t be acceptable.” She sighed heavily. “It’s been going on for a long time, David. Just like many white people think they’re above those who are brown or black, some lighter-skinned people of color feel they have an advantage over those who are darker.” She clapped her palms together and tilted her head slightly to one side. “So there you have it. I’ll bet I confus
ed you even more.”
“I think I may understand a little better, but I feel like I’m a long way from really having a firm grasp. I thank you for explaining it. And, by the way…” he leaned in until his lips were near her ear, “…I’m crazy about your complexion.”
*****
As the reception wound down, Devin got up to use the restroom. When she came out, Joe stood in the hall, reading—or pretending to read, she suspected—the notices on the bulletin board between the men’s and ladies’ rooms. More than likely he’d noticed her go in the hall and was waiting for her.
She confronted him with annoyance. “Are you following me?”
“Give me a break, Devin. Why would I want to follow you? I’m here with my new girlfriend, remember?”
She grunted. “You’re lucky I don’t pull her aside and tell her what’s in store for her if she breaks up with you.”
“Yeah, I guess your new boyfriend agreed to represent you in a heartbeat when he saw your blue movie. That must be how you paid him, by giving him some. I know you can’t afford a Tenth Avenue lawyer, much less one on Madison.”
Devin shook with anger. “How dare you say such a thing to me! Of course David knows about that video you posted online, but he’s never seen it.” She spoke with confidence, recalling David’s assurances that he hadn’t seen the sex tape. “I told Mama I needed to speak with an attorney, and she asked him to meet with me, since she…works with him.”
“Works with him?” he scoffed. “You mean, she cleans his office.”
Devin wondered what her mother, who had been so defensive of Joe, would say if she could hear him disparage her occupation. “You really are a pig, you know that? What a fool I was to waste all those years on you.”
“Yeah, when you could’ve been with that jojoto all this time. Keep kidding yourself, Devin. Downtown white lawyers don’t marry Dominicanas from the projects. He just wants to fuck your popola. And I’m sure he’s doing it.”
She didn’t reply, just swept past him in a rage.
*****
When it came time for Glenys to throw her bouquet, Devin joined the other women vying for it, including Joe’s date, a woman she didn’t know. Mercy, already engaged, sat it out.
When Glenys threw the bouquet, Devin leaped for it. A dozen other hands did the same, but she was victorious. She held it up triumphantly. How perfect it would be if David caught the garter, she thought.
To her disappointment, David declined to participate in the throwing of the garter. However, Devin caught him looking clearly displeased when the winner turned out to be Joe, of all people. Her own upper lip curled in distaste, and she declined to continue the rest of the ritual, which would involve Joe placing the garter high on her thigh. She knew no one who knew them would think it strange, since she and Joe had broken up recently. As for those who were unaware of their history, they’d just have to be puzzled.
“I guess I should have participated after all,” David apologetically said to her when she returned to the table, bouquet in hand. “It never occurred to me that he’d catch the garter.”
“It’s okay. I told Glenys’s aunt—she’s acting as hostess—that I wasn’t going to let him put it on me.” She shrugged. “A lot of the people here know we were a couple until recently.”
“Aren’t you gonna let the guy who caught the garter put it on your leg?” one of the older women at the table asked.
Devin’s eyes met David’s. “A lot of people, but not everyone,” she softly said to him. Then she explained to the woman and the others at the table who eagerly awaited her response that the man who caught the garter was her ex and she didn’t want him touching her. They nodded, understanding.
David squeezed her hand. “If I had to do it over I’d have taken part, and so help me, I would have knocked him down before I let him catch it.” He chuckled. “I hope it wasn’t too unpleasant for you, having to tell the wedding coordinator that you didn’t want to follow through.”
She gave him a sunny smile. “I don’t believe in doing anything that makes me uncomfortable. If it strikes anyone as odd or unusual, then so be it.”
*****
Devin was happy to get a minute to chat with Mercy and Glenys. “You make such a beautiful bride,” Devin said, meaning it. Glenys was a truly a vision in white with her off the shoulder appliquéd gown that showed off her slender figure.
“Thank you. And, since you caught my bouquet, that means you’ll be next.” She feigned a hungry look as she glanced David’s way. “I didn’t know you were seeing a white guy. He’s real good-looking. And he seems to be having a nice time.”
“Oh, he is,” Devin assured her.” She quickly added, “But it’s not serious, though. We’ve only been dating for a few weeks.”
She and Mercy were left alone when a woman interrupted to say goodbye to Glenys.
“Well,” Mercy said. “I know you said it’s too soon for it to be serious between you and David, but I can tell you’re crazy about him. Am I right?”
“Oh, Mercy. You know me so well. I guess there’s no point in denying it.” Her eyes went to David, who was involved in an animated conversation with Chris and another man.
“I think that’s sweet, Devin. I don’t want to sound disapproving like your mama, but I will tell you to please try to keep both feet on the ground, at least until you know for sure that he feels the same way about you.”
“I keep telling myself that, but my heart has a mind of its own,” she admitted. “I just wish I knew how he really feels.”
“Tell me,” Mercy began, “when you went to his apartment in his parents’ townhouse, did you get to meet them?”
“No.” Devin put a brave face on her disappointment. “But that’s okay. I mean, it’s only been a few weeks. I’ll be spending the rest of the weekend with him, but we’ll be alone in the building. His parents, and also his brother and his family, are out at their house in the Hamptons.”
“Chris brought me to a family function the second week after meeting me,” Mercy remarked. “His niece was being christened.”
Devin straightened her shoulders in a defensive stance. “Well, bully for you,” she retorted. “I’m sure that if we’re still seeing each other when someone in David’s family holds a function, he’ll invite me to come. I don’t know that his family has gotten together these past couple of weeks…and neither do you,” she pointedly added.
Mercy instantly looked contrite. “I’m sorry, Dev. I didn’t mean to imply that David is somehow reluctant to introduce you to his family. It just happened to be how my courtship with Chris unfolded. But I realize now it didn’t sound very nice, and for that I apologize.”
Devin also apologized for sounding so snippy, but the exchange made her remember how David had declined to bring her into his parents’ portion of the house to take the elevator upstairs. It did make perfect sense for his parents not to want their son to use their apartment as a pathway with every girl he brought home, but—and she knew this was the real reason behind her flash of temper—she didn’t want to be just any girl to David.
She wondered if she was just kidding herself by thinking she could ever be any more than that.
Chapter 15
“I’m afraid we won’t get to see each other this weekend, Devin.”
“Oh? Is anything wrong?”
“No, nothing like that. It’s just that…my mother is giving a party to mark my grandmother’s ninetieth birthday Saturday, and of course I have to be there.
Devin’s heart sank. This was the ideal opportunity for him to introduce her to his family—just the way Chris had invited Mercy to his niece’s christening early on in their relationship—and the fact that he declined to do so hurt her feelings. She wished she could ask him why he hadn’t invited her to be his date, but there was no way to do so without sounding whiny.
Is he trying to keep me hidden? Is it really all about the sex, like Mama and Joe said?
She quickly pushed the thought away
and gave a casual shrug as she listlessly pushed her shrimp with lobster sauce around on her plate with her fork. A moment ago the meal at this Upper West Side restaurant had been so tasty. Now she felt her appetite disappear. “Okay, so that’s only Saturday.”
“I know, but some of the guests are coming from out of town, and Mom has organized a get-together for Friday night as well. I’m really sorry.”
So the celebration covered both weekend nights…and he hadn’t invited her to either one. She could stand it no longer. “I presume you’re going stag?” she asked, carefully injecting an amused tone into her words.
He shrugged. “If I were bringing anyone, it would certainly be you. But I don’t like bringing dates to these things. There’s too much interest in my private life. Everybody asks me a gazillion questions, like when I’m getting married and stuff like that. It’s embarrassing to me, and it’s embarrassed my dates as well. I’ve learned it’s better if I just attend alone. Although it still doesn’t stop them from asking questions about my love life, like do I have a girlfriend, at least they can’t nag my date.”
If they’re going to ask you anyway, why not just bring me along? Aloud she said, “I see,” although she didn’t. She didn’t see at all. Did this mean he was getting tired of her, that he was about to break up with her? Maybe he’s met someone else and is looking to end our relationship gradually.
Dejected, she suspected he never intended to introduce her to his family. He probably looked upon her as just another fling. Even though she’d told herself repeatedly from the beginning to be prepared and not to expect any kind of lasting, lifelong commitment from him, it still hurt.
*****
Devin smiled as she sent David a text. It was fun, sending messages back and forth here in the office, where no one knew about their relationship. It gave their association an illicit air she found exciting and suspected he did, too. Today was Thursday. She was already excited about the coming weekend, especially after the gloominess of last weekend, when she’d sat at home while David attended his family function. But at least he’d called her Sunday when everything was over, and they went to a comedy show at The Knitting Factory in Brooklyn. Although it didn’t ease her worries about his wanting to conceal her from his family, she’d had a good time and laughed herself breathless.
After Office Hours Page 14