I watched her adjust the silk of her dress, her movements polished and controlled. It was a far cry from the woman I’d seen at the cenote, arguing with me in the jungle with sweat on herforehead and her composure completely gone. Here she had put herself back together, and that annoyed me more than I could explain.
She picked up the menu, her eyes scanning the gold rimmed pages. “The octopus is supposed to be incredible here. We should start with that and maybe the wagyu tacos.”
“I didn’t come here to talk about the menu, Stella. You can skip the octopus and the pleasantries.”
“Sis, chill,” Nel said, his voice low but firm. He looked between us, his jaw set. “She’s here. We’re here. Let’s just get to know her.”
I snapped my head toward him. “You’re the one that wanted her here, so you get to know her. The only thing I want to know is why she left and who is my father.”
Wendell looked between us and seemed to think better of whatever he was about to say. He leaned back instead and picked up his water glass, letting Stella handle it.
Nel looked at Stella directly. “I was under the impression Deuce and Whitley would be here tonight. That’s the only reason I agreed to come and the only reason I tricked Nique into coming. Where are they?”
“They’re at the resort,” Stella whispered. “I thought it was best if just the adults talked first.”
“Well, the adults are talking,” I said. “So talk. Which question do you want to answer first, the ‘why did you leave’ or the ‘who is my father’?”
It wasn’t a question. It was a demand that had been sitting in my chest for over twenty years and I was done carrying it.
The table went silent. The music and laughter from the surrounding tables felt like it belonged to another world entirely. Stella set her wine glass down slowly, her knuckles tight against the stem. She looked at the tablecloth for a long moment then picked up the menu again.
“I think we should order something before we get into anything heavy. It’s easier to talk when you’re not—”
“Stella.” My voice was flat.
She set the menu down.
“I just think that maybe we could ease into it,” she said, straightening her napkin in her lap. “We’re in a beautiful place and we finally have time together and I don’t want the whole night to be—”
“You know what,” I said, pushing my chair back and looking at Nel. “I can’t do this. I’m in full support of you getting to know her. I really am. But I personally cannot sit here and do the fakeness. I’m going to catch a cab back to the resort. You enjoy dinner.”
I reached for my clutch.
“You are not catching a cab in Mexico by yourself,” Stella said, her voice sharpening instantly.
I looked at her. “Lady, what part of it’s too late to play mama do you not understand? You ain’t gave a fuck all this time. Don’t start now.”
“Nique.” Nel’s voice was a warning.
“Nique, you’re angry and I get it,” Stella said, leaning forward, her composure cracking at the edges. “But be rational. You are a beautiful woman in a mini dress in a foreign country that has a very high trafficking rate. Please do not walk out of here alone.”
I let out a short sharp laugh. “You’re being dramatic. Nothing is going to happen to me.” I stood up fully, smoothing my dress. “And even if something did, you could just do what you’ve been doing your whole life. Pretend I don’t exist.”
Stella’s face crumpled.
“That is not what happened,” she said, her voice dropping so low I almost didn’t hear it over the music.
“Then tell me what happened,” I said, still standing, my clutch in my hand. “Right now. No easing into it. Tell me why you left your children or I am walking out that door.”
The table was completely still. Wendell had his eyes down. Nel was watching Stella with an intense expression.
Stella looked up at me and what I saw there stopped me from moving toward the door. It wasn’t the polished composed woman who had been adjusting her dress all night. It was something underneath all of that. Something raw and old and very afraid.
“Sit down, Nique,” she whispered. “Please.”
I sat, but I kept my clutch in my hand.
Stella looked at the tablecloth for a long time. Wendell reached over and covered her hand with his and she stared at it like she was drawing strength from the contact. When she finally spoke her voice was barely above a whisper and it didn’t sound like a speech. It sounded like something being pulled out of her against her will, one word at a time.