“Maybe that stuff is for the fairy tales, Mima. Maybe all that heart-skipping and flowery stuff is just for the storybooks.”
“You can’t believe that. You are, after all, the one who is going to break this family’s love curse.”
Here we go again.
The Martínez family curse.
There is no amount of pressure like the pressure from a grandmother who is convinced you’re the one brought into this world to break the generational curse set upon your family decades before.
I didn’t want to believe in her generational-curse speeches, but I swore they sometimes held some truth. We Martínez women had experienced bad luck in the romance department for ages.
I could hear my mother in my ear at all times. Every time I got let down by the opposite sex, I heard her whisperings:“Never has there been good men in our family history,mi amor. We women are cursed to love sons of bitches. My grandfather was a son of a bitch. Your grandfather was a son of a bitch. Your father was a son of a bitch. We’re better off alone.”
Then I’d hear Mima and her hopefulness slipping in:“I pray to God each day that you are the one to end this curse set upon us Martínez women. You are our savior.”
Again—no pressure.
Before I could respond, Mom came rushing through the front door, humming loudly and spinning in circles. “I’m in love, I’m in love, and I want the whole world to know it!” she exclaimed.
Her words confused the heck out of me.
My mom? In love?
What in the world...?
She took a seat at the table, still humming a song as she read a message on her phone. The message had her giggling like a schoolgirl. She kept snickering to herself as she went to text someone back.
“See, that’s the kind of excitement you should be having about this mystery boy, Shay!” Mima exclaimed, tossing her hands up in celebration. “You know who made you excited?”
Don’t say Landon Harrison. Don’t say Landon Harrison...
“Landon Harrison.” She beamed with a sparkle in her eyes. If there was anyone who Mima loved almost as much as sheloved me, it was Landon Harrison. Or Landon Pace, as he went by in the public eye nowadays. Since day one, my grandmother had been his biggest fan. But if there was anything Mima took seriously, it was her loyalty. When Landon and I went our separate ways, she cut ties with him, too, in order to show her love and support for me. When it came to choosing sides, my grandmother would always choose mine.
Still, that didn’t mean she didn’t occasionally bring up Landon and remind me that he was a wonderful boy.
“The last time I heard you sound excited about a relationship was when you were seeing that sweet, sweet boy. You should give him a call,” Mima offered.
She said it as if I’d even have that man’s number. If I did have Landon’s number, it would’ve been at the top of my blocked list.
“It’s been over a decade, Mima. I don’t know that man anymore,” I replied.
“That’s a shame.” She pouted. “You were so happy with him.”
I was a teenager—what did I know about true happiness? My frontal lobe wasn’t even developed.
“Speaking of happy...” I cleared my throat. “We should probably talk about Mom’s new love.” I needed the attention to move on from me to someone else, and who better than the lovesick puppy that was my mother? Maybe she was in charge of breaking the Martínez curse, not me.
“Yes. What is this love you are going on and on about?” Mima asked, making Mom a plate.
Mom held her phone up, displaying a photograph, still grinning cheek to cheek. “I just rescued a puppy,” she stated.
A puppy.
She rescued a dog.
It was actually a case of puppy love.
“I’m picking her up from the Humane Society tomorrow,and oh my gosh, I just adore the pup so much. I mean look!” She swiped to show more pictures of the most adorable dog ever. I leaned in closer, much more intrigued by the dog than I ever would be by a stupid man.