The rest of Saturday had gone quite well, and they had a pizza and movie night, just trying to relax once everyone went their respective ways.
It was definitely a nice way to end their night, and despite how tired he was, he was more than happy to just relax on the couch with his family now that he was home.
The travel hadn't been particularly long, as he was only in Albany, but he missed his family way more than he ever expected. Not waking up to Olivia there beside him or to Noah jumping on the bed just felt off. It was so nice to be home.
Sunday, they went to mass and then spent the rest of the day at his mother's, the Garcías join them, his mother welcoming any excuse to spend the day with María Elena. Erika was otherwise engaged, so she hadn't joined them this time.
Sebastián and Noah were doing their thing, more than reasonably entertained, and the adults were sitting around prattling on about something or other.
"Mami, ¿has hablado recientemente con tía Cuca o tío Richi?" he inquired. It had been longer than he liked to admit since he'd called his family back in Florida. (Have you talked to Aunt Cuca or Uncle Richi recently?)
"Sí, y están bien. De hecho, vendrán a visitarnos en unas pocas semanas," his mother replied, giving him a funny look now as she spoke the next sentence. "Y... escuché en la radio bemba que Mau se volverá a casar." (Yes, and they're doing well. They're coming down to visit us in a few weeks, actually. And... the gossip is that Mau's getting remarried.)
He was more than a little surprised by that. His paternal uncle wasn't something that marriage or relationships, in general, seemed to overly agree with. "Bueno, eso dura lo que dura un merengue en la puerta de una escuela," he said rather uncharitably. (Well, that won't last long at all.)
His mother quirked an eyebrow and her tone was quite serious when she finally spoke after a moment. "No comas mierda. Estuvo comiendo un cable por un tiempo, sí, pero tu tío no es un mal tipo, Rafael." (Don't be a fool. He had a rough go there for a while, yes, but your uncle isn't a bad guy, Rafael.)
He sighed. He knew she was right. He just had a little bit of resentment or bitterness still, that was largely misplaced. He knew it wasn't black and white, and he'd largely forgiven his father, but forgiving wasn't the same as forgetting. His uncle always compared him to his father and he felt like he never measured up. However, he knew his uncle hadn't actually been trying to be malicious. "Lo sé, Mami. I'm aware."
Olivia eyed his mother curiously, adjusting Sofía's position in her baby carrier ever so slightly. "Who's he marrying?"
"Some younger woman," his mother said with a shrug. "I haven't met her, but they only just got engaged apparently."
"Does she have a name?" Rafael inquired.
His mother gave a small shrug. "Andrea or something like that." She glanced over at Eddie's mother. "Mariquita, ¿quieres un cafecito? ¿Mamita?"
María Elena raised her empty coffee cup, lips curved upwards in a warm smile. "Me encantaría uno, gracias." (I'd love one, thanks.)
"I'll take you up on that," Olivia said with a small smile.
His mother eyed Eddie and Rafael. "I already know you two won't turn down a coffee, so I'm not even going to ask."
He gave a little snort. "Thanks, Ma."
"Yeah," Eddie said without missing a beat. "Thanks."
As his mother walked away, María Elena eyed Rafael. "Deja de estar comiendo de lo que pica el pollo." She paused a second. "Sigue siendo tu tío, Papito." (Stop acting like a fool. He's still your uncle, Papito.)
He nodded. "Lo sé. Eso fue bastante injusto de mi parte. Me doy cuenta de eso." (I know. That was rather unfair of me. I do realize that.)
They finished their coffee and his mother kept running in and out of the kitchen. The house smelt amazing, as it so often did. His mother really was a phenomenal cook.
Eventually, Olivia fed Sofía and put her down for a nap, everyone sitting down for lunch. Vaca frita, congrí, fufú, and fried sweet plantains. The fufú definitely upending the platanitos maduros ever so slightly as his favourite. It had been a while since he'd had vaca frita so he'd really enjoyed that as well.
She'd also started on some lechón to use in a few dishes later on, and he was definitely intending to steal some off of her for sandwiches to take to work.
They chatted animatedly for a while and then several of them started playing a round of dominos over coffee, music playing softly in the background, the kids eventually joining them as they switched to cards.
"Ugh, how did you get so good, Tío?" Sebastián muttered as Rafael won the game for the second time in a row.
"Good question," Noah chimed in, fond amusement in his voice.
He chuckled at that. "Lots of practice." He smiled as several of his happier childhood memories came to mind. "Abuelo Nene was all about the card games."
"Rafi always was an odd one," María Elena said, looking at Rafael fondly. "Siempre preferiste los libros y los juegos a ir a fiestas como los otros adolescentes." (You always preferred books and games to parties like the other teenagers.)
"Y la boca que tenías sobre ti, incluso entonces, no ayudó," his mother said. "Los problemas siempre parecían encontrarte." (And the mouth you had on you, even then, didn't help any. Trouble always seemed to find you.)
He gave a little snort. "No era una persona sociable." (I wasn't a people person.)
"Todavía no lo eres, de verdad," Olivia quipped. (You're still not, really.)
"Bueno, trato con muchos imbéciles en el trabajo," he said with a side-eyed look. (Well, I deal with a lot of morons at work.)
His mother rolled her eyes and looked at Oliva. "Don't let him fool you. He was a good kid, but even he was far from immune to teenage stupidity."
"And had the black eyes to prove it," he said with a snort.
"Oh, I know," Olivia said with a light chuckle, an amused twinkle in her eyes. "I've gotten a few good stories out of him and Eddie here."
"And I'll thank you to take those to the grave," Rafael deadpanned.
Olivia shook her head in amusement. "As long as you promise to do the same with a few of mine."
He crinkled his nose happily. "You strike a hard bargain, but I'll take that deal."
