Page 89 of Fair Trade

“Luisa, you’re going to be late,” Nick says grumpily as I slowly move through the living room.

The doorbell rings, and Nick takes out his phone to check the security cameras. “No need to check. I know who it is.” I walk past the foyer quickly and open the door for my mother.

“Mija, you look so pretty dressed for work. I love when you wear a pink blazer. You pull it off so well.” She gives me a big kiss on the cheek as I move around her to take off her coat. She takes me by surprise when she pulls me in for a tight hug. “And thank you for letting me help. I’m so glad I can do this for you. And for Nick.” Her eyes beam with unshed happy tears.

Thisis my mom. The woman who never gave up on me, and, more importantly, never gave up on herself. As much as I told myself I was calling her to help Nick feel better while I’m at work, I know I also needed a reminder as to how far she’s come.

She still has her moments, but for the most part, with a combination of therapy and medication, my mom has reclaimed her life and has spent every second I allow showing me how much she loves me.

I let out a slow breath, and the tension I’ve been holding in my body since my conversation with Nick in the kitchen slowly starts to dissipate.

The sounds of clanking pots and pans have me looking over her shoulder and smiling. Looks like she brought reinforcements.

“Ay Dios mío. Where is the patient?” Tía Marisol dramatically yells.

“I’m making sancocho for him but needed my caldero because I wasn’t sure if your fancy pots would get the job done.” Tía Gloria brushes past us without a second glance, rushing off to the kitchen to start chopping like a madwoman, I assume.

Nick’s look of confusion is endearing. I’m sure his cold medicine–addled brain is trying to catch on to what’s happening, so I move over to him and tug on his hand. “I’m going to work, but I called in the troops to help you feel better.”

His eyes scan the main level of our home. One aunt in the kitchen creating beautiful chaos. Another in the living room, plugging in a humidifier that’s older than me but surely trusted and true. And my mother unloading an oversized tote bag filled with wellness goodies.

“What’s going on?” His voice sounds clogged with emotion.

I frame his face with my hands and see the longing written across his features. I place a soft kiss on his cheek and lean back. “We’re taking care of you, Nick.”

I swear his eyes glisten as he wraps me in a fierce hug, trapping the laughter in my chest. “Release me at once, you ogre. I don’t want to get sick.” I start to squirm when he rains down kisses along my neck.

“You kissed me first. And besides, we’re married. My germs are your germs.”

I finally wiggle free just as Tía Marisol comes barreling toward Nick. “Okay, time for thevivaporu.”

“For the what now?” He panics.

I giggle. “Vicks VapoRub. Cures all. Oh, incoming…”

My aunt slathers a generous amount on Nick’s chest, turning his eyes into saucers.

“Wife, help. I don’t know what’s happening here. Is she lubing me up?”

My giggles turn into unrestrained laughter.

“Ay, tranquilo. I’m being thorough. Got to get rid of this big, bad cold.” She emphasizes the last three words by slapping his chest with both hands. “Toma, take the rest.” She hands him the brand-new container. “Stick a bit up your nose.”

“Is that what the instructions say to do? Because I don’t think this should be going into any body parts.”

She clicks her tongue. “Ay, you’ll be fine. Let me know when you need me to reapply.” She smiles as she walks off to the kitchen.

“No, I think I’ll have it handled from here,” he yells after her.

My poor husband seems so scared. Standing shirtless with a glistening chest, holding onto a small Vicks as he mouths, “Help me.”

I wiggle my fingers at him before I close the door behind me.

This should be fun.

forty-five

I’m allergic to dust.