"Henry, come onnnn we're gonna be late!" I call for him up the stairs.
My boyfriend has a lovely habit of making us late everywhere because he can't stop primping. He has to look as good as possible, as if he doesn't already have unfairly good looks.
But don't tell him I said that.
Truth is, I was just nervous. I'd convinced Henry to come down to visit my dad's family with me, so I could show him more about how we grew up, more of who I was, essentially.
I'd already made an itinerary for us while we were down here. I had to take him to El Popo, it wasn't negotiable, and we'd walk around the park and go for crêpes in the morning.
Granted, we'd gone for breakfast together in Paris before, but they were really good crêpes for a little border town.
I really just wanted him to get along with my grandparents. They could be... less than kind. They always meant well, but sometimes it didn't come off that way.
"I'm coming!" He races down the stairs, looking perfect and put together as always.
I grin at him, "Okay, let's go."
We used to talk about doing this all the time, sharing things like this with each other. Now was the first time that we'd been able to do it.
We were meeting my grandparents at a restaurant about 15 minutes away, but I wanted to be early. So I told him a time about 45 minutes before the real one, allowing for 20 minutes of Henry Time.
My grandparents walk in and spot us almost immediately, and I get up to hug them, taller now than both of them.
"¡Alejandro! ¿Cómo estás, mi niño?" My grandmother somehow swallows me in a hug, her pleasant scent of lavender fabuloso and downy ultra soft washing over me.
"Hola, Tita. Estoy bien. ¿ Como has pasado usted, eh?"
She bats at me gently, "Ay, mijo, no haces así." This is when she catches sight of Henry, "¿Y me ibas a introducir, Ale? Pensé que tenías maneras, mi vida."
I roll my eyes at her and introduce her to Henry, walking back over to greet my grandpa as she starts interrogating him.
"Te ves más delgado, Ale. ¿Has bajado de peso?" He says when I do, sizing me up.
"Un poco. Cómo estás, Lalo?"
"Debes a bajar más." He says in response. I take a deep breath. It's always like this, them picking on me between being sweet. But I can't really complain, as the white side of my family basically hasn't spoken to anyone but Mom since I was a kid.
We go over and join Tita and Henry, who are enthralled in a conversation about tea, of all things.
(to be continued bc i feel like publishing this and continuing it)
