“¡Maldición!” The curse ricochets off the shower walls. “Millie, for God’s sake, I’m. Not. Carter. And don’t you ever lump me with that cabrón. He’s too stupid to know what he lost.”
She blinks, her lips parting. It’s distracting. I’m so angry, I don’t know whether to kiss her hard or throw something.
“You’re right,” she says, sounding startled. Millie shakes her head. “You’re nothing like Carter. You are ten times the man he is. A hundred times. You are everything, everything I could want—”
Millie clamps her mouth shut, her eyes shining with unshed tears. In them I see all of her love. For me. Not anyone else. But right beside it is a sadness that scares the hell out of me.
“But—but Carter was right too.” She looks so resigned. So defeated. “It is too much to ask.”
Anger is the only protection I have.
“Are you asking? Are you even giving me a choice? Or are you just leaving me?” I don’t think I’ve ever yelled in a bathroom before. It’s fucking loud.
“I didn’t want…” She leans down and reaches into her purse. “I was going to wait until tomorrow. Until I knew for sure.” She pulls out a long, pink box. First Response Early Result Pregnancy Test. “Can tell 6 days sooner,” the label announces.
I stare at her, knowing with sudden clarity—and so much gratitude—that I am going to spend the rest of my life with a woman who has the power to drive me crazy.
“Marry me.”
That mouth of hers falls open. Yep, damned distracting. “What?!”
I lick my lips. I’ve never done this before, but I know What?! Is not the answer I’m looking for. Correction. I’m going to spend the rest of my life with a woman who has the power to drive me crazy—if I can convince her to marry me. Now. Before she can take that stupid test.
At least I’m already on my knees.
I take a deep breath and clasp both her hands in mine.
“Millie…” I trail off because I realize I don’t know it. How could I not know it? “Baby, what’s your middle name?”
She grimaces. “Agnes.”
My brows leap. “Agnes? Really?” What the hell were her parents thinking?
Millie wrinkles her nose. “It’s bad. Awful, really.”
I don’t argue. “Millie Agnes Delacroix—”
“It’s, um…” She bites her lip and wrinkles her nose again. “Actually, it’s Mildred.”
Dios misericordioso.
“Wow.” I don’t mean to say it out loud, but… “Wow.”
She nods. “Tell me about it.”
I blink. “Your initials spell MAD,” I blurt, then my voice drops with awe. “This explains so much.”
Her brow executes a severe arch.
I look at her glowering at me, and I feel a smile that comes straight from my soul transform my face.
I’m going to spend the rest of my life driving her crazy.
“Mildred Agnes Delacroix.” As the words leave my tongue, I realize it is the most beautiful name in the world. Because it’s hers. “I fell for you at a soccer game when you wouldn’t even look me in the eye, even though I knew you were checking me out—”
“I was no—”
I stop her mouth with my palm. “Let me finish. This is nerve wracking as shit.” The glare she gives me is the most beautiful thing. Ever. “Then I found myself in the middle of your busy, full, crazy life, and I never want to leave.”
The glare vanishes until there’s nothing but her smooth, ivory brow and her soft blue eyes.
“I’ve watched you do the impossible—and do it with endless love and patience. And humor. I want a share of that. Of all of it. The responsibilities. The rewards. And most of all, the love.” I squeeze her hands and uncover her mouth, but it’s all I can do not to cover it again with mine. “I’ll give you a ring tomorrow, but today I’m asking. Will you marry me?”
Her eyes are wide, hopeful, but still scared. She holds up the pregnancy test. “Don’t you want to know first? Before you do this? I mean, maybe I’m wrong and—”
I snatch the box from her, turn and chuck it into Abuela’s blue flowered wastebasket. I whirl back to meet her gaze.
“I don’t care if you’re pregnant or not. I want to marry you.”
She glances at the trashcan with a frown. “That was thirteen dollars.”
I shake my head. “Don’t care about that either. I asked you a question, linda.”
Maybe I should be nervous that she hasn’t answered, but I’m not. She can be nervous. I’m sure.
Millie bites her bottom lip. “You want to marry me?”
“Yes, boba, I want to marry you.”
Blink. Blink. “Even if we have to spend the next ten years raising Harry, Mattie, and Emmett?”
“¿Estás bromeando? Especially if we get to spend the next ten years raising them,” I promise. “And the next twenty or thirty raising our own.”
“Twenty or th-thirty?” Those blue eyes go huge.
I shrug. “If everything you’ve told me about your family is true, you’re going to be giving me babies for a while.”
Her eyes soften again. “Giving you babies,” she echoes, sounding kind of awed. I smile. It does sound pretty awesome. Her gaze shifts down, and I know she’s looking at my dimples when she smiles, too.
“You mean it,” Millie says, sounding surprised, but also, I note, sure.
I nod. “I mean it.” But she’d better say yes. I’m ready to hear it. “So, what do you s—”
She grabs the front of my shirt with both hands and yanks me close. “Yes. Yes. Yes.” The last yes lands on my lips right before hers do. She kisses me, and then I grab her behind her neck and at her hips, and I’m kissing her. Millie opens her knees, and I edge between them, tugging her closer, lungs pumping, pulse pounding, heart soaring.
When lips, tongues, and even teeth have had their fill and we are in danger of profaning my grandmother and brother’s shared bathroom, I get us to our feet and smooth out Millie’s clothes while she smooths out mine.
“Should we go down and tell them?” she asks, blushing.
“You mean if they’re not all listening with their ears pressed to the door?”
She gasps.
“I’m kidding.”
“Oh, thank God.”
“But they’re probably all at the foot of the stairs.” This time I’m not teasing. We’re talking about Mami and Aunt Lucinda. Not to mention Emmett, the little sneak.
I move toward the door, but Millie grabs my wrist. “I know what you said,” she says before bending down to the waste basket. “But we’re probably going to need this.” She retrieves the pregnancy test.
I take the box from her, gently this time, and tuck it into her purse. “Keep it. But I don’t want you taking it until after we’re married.”
Millie looks at me like I’m crazy. “Wait. What?”
“Let’s get married first. Then take the pregnancy test.”
“Um, Luc.” She grabs my elbow, still wearing the you’re-crazy look. “That would have to be really soon to—”
“Do you need a big, fancy wedding?” If she does, I’ll give it to her. Whatever she wants.
Millie wrinkles her nose. “God, no. I don’t have time for that.”
I wrap my arm around her waist and cinch her close. “So we do it soon. The kids’ll be off for Christmas break. We’ll do it then.”
“Where?” she asks, frowning.
I shrug again. “We could do it here. You know my family has the food covered.” I smile at her, picturing it. “Mattie could play the piano. Harry could give you away. Emmett could be my best man.”
Her mouth falls open. “You’d do that?”
I grin. What wouldn’t I do for her? For them? “Sure.”
She shakes her head. “What about Alex? Or your friend Cesar?”
Millie hasn’t met Cesar, but I’ve told her about him. That’ll be on my Daily Three tomorrow. Introduce Millie to Cesar.
&nb
sp; “They’ll both be cool about it,” I reassure her.
“Mrs. Chen can play the piano,” she says, her eyes shining. “I’ll ask Mattie to be my maid of honor.”
I nod. “That works.” Another idea strikes. “And the kids can stay here while we go on a honeymoon.”
Millie’s eyes go wide. “That’s a terrible idea. Mattie and Alex—”
“I meant what I said about sharing the responsibilities.” I shake my head. “You don’t need to worry about that anymore. I’ll talk to Alex.”
The tone of my voice seems to surprise her, but she doesn’t look upset about it. “O-okay,” Millie says with a grin.
Gripping the doorknob, I turn back to her. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” she says, color rising in her cheeks again.
I take her hand and then open the door. We’re met with the sound of scurrying and urgent whispers coming from downstairs. When we step onto the landing, the bottom of the stairs is empty, but I know my family. They’re just on the other side of the wall in the living room.
“Mami!” I call. Beside me, Millie’s eyes bulge.
“What are you doing?” she hisses, squeezing my hand.
“Announcing it on our own terms,” I whisper back.
My mother’s voice, dripping with false innocence comes from the kitchen side of the living room. I know it’s false innocence because she sounds a little out of breath. “What is it, mi hijo?”
“Trae a todos a las escaleras, por favor.”
“What did you say?” Millie whispers.
“I asked her to bring everyone here.”
Millie palms her face with her free hand. “Oh God,” she moans.
From behind the living room wall, I hear Emmett. “Why are we going back?” Five or six mouths shh him. I chuckle.
“Oh, God,” Millie pleads again.
But when the foot of the stairs quickly fills with every member of both our families, she drops her hands and stands up straight beside me. She’s bright red, so I know what it’s costing her, and I love her all the more.
I lead her down four or five steps with me so that we aren’t quite so far from the gathered crowd, and as I do, it’s my father’s face that catches my eye. I expect to see a look of disapproval. And if it were there, I’d be beyond caring.
If having his blessing means not having Millie, I’d rather be cursed.
But he’s not frowning or scowling. He looks… curious. Maybe even expectant.
I don’t take time to puzzle it out. I glance over at Millie and find her looking down at the kids. Somehow they’ve made it to the front of the crowd with Alex right behind Mattie and the adults all fanned out behind them. Mattie, of course, looks worried. Harry’s expression is watchful. But Emmett just looks ecstatic.
I know I have everyone’s attention, so I give mine to Millie. Face flushed and lip trembling, she gazes up at me. In spite of the fact that I’m embarrassing her, she looks happy. Almost as happy as I feel.
“Abuela says we’re expecting.” The crowd of family seems to hold a collective breath. “Maybe we are. Maybe we aren’t. We don’t know.” But our hands are linked between us, and I let the outside of my pinky brush her belly in silent greeting. Silent welcome. Silent promise.
From behind Emmett, Abuela mutters, “Lo sé. Voy a ser una bisabuela.” Mattie and all of my cousins titter.
Judging by the smile on Millie’s face, she understood Abuela perfectly, and I turn to give my grandmother a mock glare.
“All I know is I asked Millie to marry me, and she said yes.”
Everyone cheers, including Abuela, who still insists on pretending she doesn’t speak English. Mami breaks through the crowd to swarm the stairs, and before we know it, we are smothered in hugs. Valencia hugs. Delacroix hugs. For his size, Emmett threatens to squeeze the life out of me.
When Mami, Luci, and my cousins pull Millie toward the kitchen, peppering her with questions, I let her go. The kids and my Uncle Raul follow them, leaving just Papi and Abuela at the foot of the stairs with me.
She shoots my father a warning look that needs no translation before taking to her cane, and then it’s just the two of us.
Papi clutches the banister with one hand and digs aimlessly in his pocket with the other. He’s looking at the bottom stair as though trying to decide if it’s level or not.
“You love her, mijo?”
“Yes, Papi. More than anything.”
He doesn’t look up from the step.
“That was fast,” he mutters, glancing up to read my expression.
I shrug. “Feels like I’ve been trying to win her forever.”
One bushy gray eyebrow bows like a caterpillar. He looks down again. “I thought she was toying with you.” He toes the bullnosing of the bottom stair with the tip of his black shoe. “Mami and Abuelita told me I was wrong.”
“You were.”
His shoulders rise and fall. “Maybe I didn’t want to watch someone else toy with you. Ronni did it for too long.”
I jolt at his words. I never told my parents why Ronni and I broke up. Looks like I didn’t need to.
“Millie is nothing like Ronni.”
Papi nods. “Si.” I’ve never heard my father apologize for anything, so I get a second jolt when he says, “I was wrong about her.”
I want to thank him, but sensing he has more to say, I stay quiet.
He raises his eyes to mine, and suddenly my father looks older than I’ve ever seen him. “A lot of things haven’t gone the way I wanted them to go, Luca.”
My heart squeezes painfully. “I know that, Papi.”
He shakes his head. “You know it, but you don’t know it. The whole time you were growing up, I couldn’t be here. When I finally made it back into this country, you were nearly a man.”
The squeezing moves to my throat.
“I started my own business—not only because I knew construction—but so I could have it for you.” His hand grips the banister, and I know it’s not just for balance. “To one day give it to you and Alejandro, sure. But first—and for years—to work beside you. To get back some of the time I lost.”
Somehow, I always knew this. Sensed it in the way he talked about the business—even before I was old enough to work there. But he has never come out and said it like this. And it kills.
“Papi—”
“Ehhh,” Papi grunts, waving off any sentiment. “We had a few years, right? Before all of this,” he says, gesturing to his bad leg. The one he’s still lucky to have. The one he may not be so lucky to have in a year or two.
He turns his hand up in a gesture of acceptance. Acceptance of a fate that could deal him such a shitty hand. “So maybe now you understand.”
“I do.” I understand why it’s been so hard on him. Why he’s been so hard on me. I think I always understood, but hearing it from him takes away the sting I’ve felt these last few months.
I reach over and grip him on the shoulder. Mami hugs everyone. Total strangers. She hugged Millie the moment she met her. For Papi, hugs between men are for when he hasn’t seen someone in years. Like if they’ve been in Louisiana and you’ve been in Chihuahua.
But he didn’t raise me. Mami did.
So I lean in and hug my father.
He lets me. I haven’t been this close to him in years. He feels smaller than he did the last time. I try to remember when the last time was. Graduation? But before I do, he’s slapping me on the back, a movement I match, to let him know I’ve gotten the signal that it’s time for the hug to end.
Papi pulls back, looking embarrassed, teetering as he tries to pace on his bad leg. He clears his throat as though the raw sound of it could clear the air, bring us out of this awkward moment.
He frowns at me but does it while smiling. “So.” He coughs and then blinks. “I might have a grandchild?”
My smile erupts. “We’ll have to wait and see, Papi.” Then I drop my voice. “But we might not have to wait long.”
His expression doesn’t change, but a light sparkles in his eyes.
“So maybe I didn’t get to raise my oldest son,” he says with a shrug. “And maybe I don’t get to work with him either.” He narrows his eyes, but the smile is still there. “But maybe he and his blanca wife would let his mami, and his abuela, and maybe his papi watch this grandchild instead of putting him in daycare?”
I’d like nothing better. “Maybe,” I say, grinning.
Papi smiles. Really smiles. And then his brow screws up and he looks at me with confused wonder. “What are the chances he’ll have red hair?”
I split with laughter. “Probably as good as the chances as she’ll have red hair.”
Papi blinks, considering this. “I always wanted a daughter. But it wasn’t meant to be for us.” He smiles again. “A granddaughter would be a great thing.”
I nod, picturing that. The perfection of a red-headed daughter.
Papi shrugs. “But first, I think I’ll get to know my daughter-in-law.”
“Definitely a great thing. How about you start now?”
I lead Papi back through the living room and into the kitchen where Mami is handing out plates. Her kitchen island has become a toppings bar for the fried fish tacos, and the Delacroixes have been ushered to the front of the line. Harry, to be specific, leads the charge.
Papi limps right up to Millie and puts his calloused hands to her cheeks. “Bienvenida hija,” Papi tells her, smiling. “Welcome to our family, Millie.”
Surprised, Millie glances to me just for an instant before thanking Papi and embracing him. But that one glance tells me everything. She knows things between me and Papi have been rocky these last few months. And in that one glance, she is asking if we have sorted things. She must see in my face that we did. Because I know Millie. She’s loyal and protective of those she loves.
And she loves me.
The look lets me know if ever there are sides, she’s taking mine.
And I love her all the more.
I step back and let Papi repeat his sentiments to Millie’s brothers and sister, and I take the opportunity to grab my own brother by the shoulder. My grip is firm and he looks back at me, smiling.
I gesture toward the door that leads to the garage, and while the crowd’s attention is still on my fiancée, I slip outside with him. Alex is all smiles as we stand between the door and Mami’s Enclave.
Kind of Cursed Page 33