Chapter 4

For two days, I lay in bed asking myself why had I not responded to Kelly. I couldn’t blame him for moving on; I had not given him a reason to continue his efforts. I pushed him back into the arms of his treacherous ex-girlfriend.

We had spoken numerous times about her. How she had cheated on him twice and he had forgiven her and finally, after the third time he cut her off for good. She stated that she was jealous of his friendship with me, but I called bullshit because she had cheated on him long before our friendship became what it was.

I heard my doorbell. I was not in the mood for company. I didn’t budge. Yet, I heard the door open. I knew it had to be Ro. “Where you at chick?” she bellowed as she walked into my room, “well damn, what’s wrong?”

I sat up. She saw the look on my face. She hurried over to me and hugged me, “What happened?”

I could only sob in her arms. I felt heavy. Little D stood by the foot of the bed, “Mommy, what’s wrong with Auntie J?”

“She’s just sad baby. Go sit in the living room for a second.”

“Okay, mommy.”

She touched my face, “Talk to me.”

“I told him that I loved him. He loves me too.”

“Okay. That’s good right?”

“He’s getting married. She’s pregnant.”

“Wow. Fuck.”

“So, you didn’t tell him?”

I shook my head, “I can’t do this. I just can’t. I can’t.”

“I’ll be there Jackie. You know I will. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks, sis.”

I rested for a few days and was semi-back to normal. I had to be, right? I had to press on. That was life. Ro’s husband had returned and she had this party planned at her house. I wasn’t in the mood to be around people but she insisted it was what I needed to get my mind thinking of other things. I told her two hours was my limit.

I showed up at her house on base early. She eyed me with suspicion, “Don’t even think helping set up is part of your two hours.”

I laughed, “How do you know me so well?”

“Auntie J is here, papi,” Little D said as he ran over to me.

I looked up and saw his father in person for the first time. A handsome man. He had this Daddy Yankee vibe about him. He was representing his culture with a Boricua t-shirt, “Hello,” I said to him.

“Babe, this is Jackie, my friend.”

He walked over ad shook my hand, “Hi, I’m Diego, you must be good people because Ro doesn’t mess with anybody and my son’s always walking about his Auntie J.”

“I love them too; they are my family away from home.”

“Then our home is your home.” He smiled. He kissed Ro, “I’m going to get some stuff from the store. I’ll be back.”

After he left, I smiled at her, “He looks even better in person, like the rapper from Puerto Rico.”

“Daddy Yankee?”

“Yeah.”

“Please don’t tell him that.” She joked.

We headed to the kitchen to prepare the food and set up the patio for the cookout.

By late afternoon most of the guests had arrived. One of the things I loved about being in the military was meeting people from different backgrounds and cultures. A cookout or a potluck could turn into an international festival with all the variety of foods people would bring. We had lumpia and pancit, flan, arroz con gandules, tostones, jambalaya, jerk chicken, ribs, steaks, and tamales. There was a lot of food and even more drinks.