Driving Me Crazy

Chapter 2

Magdalena awakened to the sound of Mateo blasting reggaetón through the speaker in his room. She got out of bed and trudged to his door, which was closed, as usual. She banged on the door with her palm.

"¡Ya párale con la música!" she yelled. "Do you know what time it is?" she groused. "The neighbors are going to be banging down our door any minute now."

There was no response from inside the room. "¡Mateo!" she shouted. Still no response. "Ahorita vas a ver," she said, employing the vague threat of all Latin mothers, not specifying what they are about to find out, but merely warning them that they are, in fact, about to find out something.

Magdalena stepped back and kicked the door. The sound of wood splitting told her that she had made progress. With the next kick, she downed the door. Mateo stood behind the fallen door in stunned silence.

Finally, he composed himself. "Mom, what the hell?" he asked as he tried to control the shaking in his knees.

Magdalena came closer to him and pointed her index finger at him. "From now on, no more door for you! If you don't know how to open the door for your mother, you don't deserve to have a door," she informed him.

"Ma," he protested. "I'm a man now. I can't change in a room with no door!"

"You can change in the bathroom," she said sternly.

"But, Mom, this is an invasion of my privacy," Mateo continued.

"Privacy, my ass!" his mother replied. "Do you think I had privacy in PR? Do you think your abuela could afford to give me my own room? Hell, no!" she answered her own questions. "You'll get privacy when you learn to respect your mother!" she announced. "Now, get ready; you're coming with me today to cook for the boys."

Mateo rolled his eyes. "I don't even know those guys. I don't want to spend my whole day with a bunch of pretty boys," he complained.

"You're going," Magdalena replied. "And you're going to adjust your attitude or I'm going to adjust it for you," she said, slapping the back of her hand against her other palm.

Knowing that he had lost the battle, Mateo did as he was told. A few minutes later, he stood at the door putting his shoes on to go out with his mom.

When they arrived at the apartment, Taemin let them in, almost as if he had been standing at the door, awaiting their arrival. He shook Mateo's hand and then saluted Magdalena. A salute seemed to be the appropriate greeting as she always had the demeanor of an army officer. Taemin took the bag of groceries out of Magdalena's hand and set it on the counter.

"You, go sit down," she told Mateo, who did not respond, but merely walked to the sofa, shuffling his feet the whole way. Taemin watched the boy walk away with a bit of sympathy. Magdalena was certainly not a woman to be messed with. And yet, Taemin's mind had often strayed over the past few weeks to thoughts about her that he knew she would not appreciate. And the thoughts only picked up in intensity when he was around her. Her scent, her movements, and that incredible, and ever exposed, cleavage of hers. He had never met a woman who could confidently expose that much boob. He knew he shouldn't stare at them, but they were just right there. It was hard not to.

Soon, the other members entered the kitchen. All of them seemed eager to watch Magdalena cooking. She browned some chicken and added rice directly the pot and let it toast with the oil and the meat juices. Then she added chicken stock. The guys watched in amazement as she stuck her thumb into the pot until it touched the rice. Her odd method for measuring the liquid seemed to please her. So, she put a lid on the rice and turned the heat down.

"How can you measure the liquid with your thumb?" Key asked. "Doesn't that burn your thumb?"

Magdalena laughed. "Only weak people get burned," she scoffed. "That's how my grandma did it. It's how my mom did it, and it's how I do it."

She, then, pulled out a giant fruit that resembled a banana, but was much larger. She cut a slit in the peel and pulled it off of the fruit. "This is a plátano macho," she explained. "It's the 'macho banana'. See, you've got regular bananas, macho bananas, and little, tiny dominicos," she continued, showing the size of the latter ones with her fingers. "They are only a couple of inches long," she clarified.

"Sounds like a good nickname for Taemin. We're calling you 'Dominico' from now on," Key exclaimed, which brought a smile to Magdalena's face.

At that, Taemin lunged at Key, but was held back by Onew and Minho. "I'm no Dominico!" he yelled. "You must be talking about yourself. I'm a plátano macho all the way!" he argued.

Turning to Magdalena, he cautioned, "Don't believe this guy. He's always talking shit."

Magdalena merely smiled and patted Taemin on the head. "Me thinks Taemin doth protest too much," she said, paraphrasing Shakespeare. "Size isn't everything," she quipped. "What's more important is knowing how to use it," she joked seductively.

Onew and Minho finally released the squirming Taemin, who smoothed out his shirt and replied, "I definitely know how to use it."

Magdalena smiled as she cut slices of the plantain and smashed them down with her palm. Then she placed them in hot oil to brown up and become crunchy tostones.

Later as they sat at the table, having eaten their full of Magdalena's cooking, Onew remarked, "So, how is it that a woman like you hasn't been scooped up yet?

"Just good luck, I guess," Magdalena quipped. "I need a man like I need a hole in the head," she observed.

"If you're not looking for a man, then why do you dress so --- you know?" Minho attempted to ask.

"Do you think I dress like this for you?" she countered. "This is all for me. I dress in whatever I think looks good on me. In PR, women of all ages wear whatever they like. It doesn't mean anything about whether they are looking for a man or not," she clarified. "Back me up on this, Mateo," she said, making all eyes go toward the boy with the shock of black hair covering one eye.

"I don't think there is a man alive that can handle all of this," he replied, motioning toward his mom. "She's hardcore. If you don't believe me, you should come to my house and see my bedroom door. It's currently split in two and lying on the floor," he added. The members looked at each other in shock.

"I don't know," Taemin jumped in. "I like women who are a little unpredictable."

"Well, that's one word for it," Mateo deadpanned.

Later, as they were preparing to leave, Mateo walked out first and was half-way down the hall while Magdalena was still struggling to get her boots on. Onew, Minho, and Key all said their goodbyes and left Taemin to offer his arm to keep her steady as she stepped into her high-top boots. Once her feet were in, Taemin knelt down and zipped up the boots on the sides. As he stood up, his face was within inches of hers. He stared at her mocha lips that were heavily lined to make them look even fuller than they already were. His breath caught in his throat. He wanted to kiss her but was afraid of getting slapped. The look in her eye was inscrutable. He didn't know if she was waiting for a kiss or if she merely hadn't stepped back yet. Her breath smelled of the touch of oregano that she had put in the rice. Taemin closed his eyes. He felt a bit dizzy, as if at any moment, he could just collapse into her arms.

"Noona," he whispered, opening his eyes to see that her face was still hovering close to his. He leaned in and planted a timid kiss on her plump lips. To his surprise, she didn't protest. So, he went in for another, and then another. She wound her hands around the back of his head and kissed him back, full-on.

"I like you so much, Noona," he whispered, which seemed to spook her because, at that declaration, Magdalena pulled back and replied, "Yeah, don't do that."

"What? Like you?" he asked.

"Yeah, I wouldn't suggest it," she said sadly as she walked out the door and down the long hallway.