The Beautiful You

Twenty-one ~ With or Without You

The next morning, I walked into a bustling kitchen as my mom and Diego prepared an elaborate breakfast. Mom doesn't usually cook breakfast, so this was a special occasion. She smiled at me as I approached the counter and glanced at the plantains she was frying. She stuck out her hand and warned, "Be careful, the oil will jump at you."

I nodded, backing away from her space. Diego was mixing a bowl of eggs right beside her while eating the fruit salad she had made the day before. Diego started humming a tune, and she grinned, nodding her head. I wasn't familiar with the song, so it must have been something they both shared.

I haven't seen her this happy in a long time.

Why did Diego ever think that we were better off without him? Couldn't he see how much Mom adored him? Diego was a ball of positive energy. Everything he said and did made people like him.

"I swear I can cook just as well and maybe even better than you," he teased.

"Don't start with that. You know how insecure I am about my cooking," she said.

"Mami, I'm serious. My roommates taught me! They're both great at cooking," he said.

Diego patted my back as I sat down at the table, handing me a plate of scrambled eggs and fried plantains. "We made breakfast," he said.

"I see that," I said, placing the plate on the table. Diego received a nod from my father as he entered the kitchen. That was his manner of greeting my brother and saying "good morning."

"Buenos dias, mijo," my dad said, touseling my bed hair. "You're not getting dressed?" He asked.

I shook my head and responded, "No, this weekend is a stay at home weekend."

He smiled. "Okay, rest is good. Maybe we can practice later today?"

I shrugged and scraped my fork over the plate. Dad and I used to practice guitar together, but these days it hasn't been working out. His schedule is too busy, and I don't like practicing with him as much as I used to.

"So, Diego, what's been happening?" Dad asked, taking a seat at the table and drenching his eggs with hot sauce. He always ate his food with something spicy. Any food that had none was considered bland. Mom's already warned him about eating too much spicy food, but he likes to think it'll never affect him.

Diego placed his plate on the table and sat back in a chair. He said, with a nod, "I've been doing good. I'm working at a packaging facility, and things are going well so far."

Dad glanced at Mom with a knowing look. Dad must have suspected him of lying, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he nodded and returned his gaze to his plate, eating quietly.

"You think I'm lying?" Diego scoffed, shaking his head.

"No, mijo. Es que a veces—"

My mom interrupted my dad and said, "We're happy that you're doing well. We believe you."

Diego shook his head and resumed eating, loudly clanking his fork on the plate.

"What are the names of your roommates?" Mom asked, attempting to ease the tension that filled the room. Mom fiddled with her necklace as she waited for his response. This was our first meal as a family in years, but the tension in the air made it difficult to believe we were ever a family.

"Carson and Thomas, I've been living with them for awhile now. They're really nice," he said.

"Do they both cook? You're very lucky," Mom said.

"How old are they?" Dad asked.

"26 and 28," Diego explained.

"And still roommates? No girlfriends or wives?" Dad mumbled, "They're getting old."