Date: Saturday July 6th, 2013
Time: 11:56am
Location: Public Beach, Santa Rishiri
Short of officially shacking up or tying the knot, I don't know how much more committed we could get at this point. After my birthday, Mia was good on her word to Mamá about returning to her house next Sunday, with one caveat: that we show up to the house after mass. A very reasonable request, I told her. As a very casual member of this religious institution, who frankly could use a break from sitting in on the same mind-numbing sermons I had been enduring for nearly three decades, I had no intention of converting her.
However, this request nearly caused Mamá to implode. Once I decided to put my foot down, I was Mia's drive after all and refused to go without her, Mamá eventually agreed to the arrangement, begrudgingly. After a mostly positive reception that first Sunday, this change in plans didn't exactly endear Mia to Mamá, but she mostly got over it.
Every week since, so long as I didn't have a trial to attend or prepare for, we've been stopping by on Sundays at 5:30pm. We make supper, a less elaborate one than my birthday, we chat, we play cards, and then we leave by 10:00pm. Inevitably there was always at least some conflict, power struggle, or lecture, the dust would settle, and it was like it never happened, the evening ending pleasantly with our promise to return the following week. It's like Mamá knew if she said everything that she wanted to say all night, we wouldn't always come back. She was being careful.
One week, Mia even offered to make traditional Khura'inese food for supper; a cuisine combining Japanese, Bhutanese, and Nepalese elements is how she described it. This gesture worried me. Mamá didn't do well with change, and between the sudden adjustment in scheduling and now the removal of control over the dinner meal, I wasn't sure how she'd handle this idea. She didn't exclusively cook Dominican food, but it was her house and her kitchen, and she liked driving the bus.
Mia and I went to the grocery store ahead of time and picked up all the ingredients and Mia instructed Mamá and I every step of the way. In the end, we had a meal of pork and vegetable dumplings with chili sauce, spicy tofu and vegetable soba noodle soup, and brown chicken curry with red and white rice. For dessert, we made these peach-filled sweet buns that looked a lot like that necklace Mia wears all the time. I had always assumed it was just something she picked up casually at a jewelry store and wore out of habit, but she told me that it was called a "magatama" and it had some special significance in her culture. What significance exactly, she wouldn't say.
To my surprise, after some hesitation and a few critical remarks, Mamá said that she liked everything. "It's spices, meat, grains, and vegetables, what's not to like?" she retorted. I'm sure pretty much every cuisine could be broken down to those elements so that was only the basest of compliments, but Mia was pleased with that outcome knowing how Mamá can be. I also assured her that the food was delicious from a flavor and conceptual level, not just for containing somewhat similar ingredients.
While the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law relationship can be fraught, one area where those two were well-matched was their level of competitiveness during a game of cards. Good lord, I had never seen more contentious rounds of Rummy, Crazy 8s, and Bullshit in my life. Don't get me wrong, I'm competitive by nature, but I drew the line at card games between my girlfriend and my mother. They didn't hold back though, practically taunting each other when one of them had the upper hand or had called the other's bluff. I just shook my head. As long as they were having fun, I guess. I was contented to see the two most important people in my life in one room and to have them convene together on a regular basis.
This weekend in particular was going to be even busier on the familial front. Mia and I drove two hours along the coast to meet Maya at the beach and for supper. Mia has told me that she wanted me to meet her sister for months now, but she said that Aunt Morgan was being very difficult, not releasing Maya from her studies or her spiritual training. I asked why she didn't just say "screw the rules" and drive down to Kurain Village anyway. She said that it wasn't worth the risk; Aunt Morgan would have no qualms about punishing Maya harshly for any indiscretions Mia made. What a piece of work, I said, and she told me that I didn't even know the half of it.
As it was, we couldn't even pick Maya up from the Village. Mia picked this beach a half hour away because it was accessible to Maya by train, they had gone there together as kids, there were a few restaurants nearby, and it was far enough away that she would be safe from Aunt Morgan's ire. Mia was shocked that we were even allowed to arrange this visit. Since the school year was over, and Aunt Morgan had wanted to enjoy some of the summer season with Pearl, she was more forgiving this time. Plus, Mia admitted, her aunt wasn't all bad all the time, as much as she complained.
It made me happy to know that Mia was cultivating a relationship with my family and I with hers, but I wasn't perfectly satisfied, as much as I pretended. I had become accustomed to doing this relationship on her terms. Every romantic milestone, every family visit, was on her timeline and at her comfort level. I normally didn't have a problem with this. I was the pursuer, and she was the pursued; it was her right to be coy when she wanted. Call me overly traditional, but this cat-and-mouse dynamic was one I preferred over the alternative. However, I made the boneheaded mistake of rushing one thing and not waiting for her cue: telling her I loved her almost three months ago.
She told me that she loved me back, after the most agonizingly long pause, and I was happy for a while. We said it back and forth to each other and I finally felt like I had confirmation that she genuinely felt the same way that I did. Then I noticed something, my detail-oriented legal brain working overtime. I had always said it first, never the other way around. I needed to see if she would say it without being pushed. Gradually, I started saying it less and less; if I had dropped off all at once she would have noticed. To my dismay, once I slowed and then stopped, she did too.
The whole thing left me not knowing how to feel anymore. She was still very affectionate with me, she stayed at my place, she visited my mother, and we spent every free moment together. And yet, she couldn't say those three words unprompted. It was just words, I told myself; her actions are much more important. However, that line of thinking swings both ways. If it was just words, why couldn't she just say it? It was confusing. If she could spend all day every day with me without getting tired of me, surely, I was the one. On the other hand, if she still didn't feel that way after all that, that was pretty damning.
Thinking about it as much as I did was humiliating. For the first time in my life, I felt like an overly sentimental schoolgirl. It was cringe-inducing. I tried my best to shake it off though. If she was nice enough to lie to me to avoid hurting my feelings, the least I could do is pretend it didn't bother me. Besides, on an important day like today, I needed to be 100% on my game to make a great impression. I know how much her sister means to her.
Prior to driving to the beach, we stopped at Mia's place to grab some stuff. Despite being born in the Caribbean, I wasn't particularly a beach guy. Swim trunks and a towel were the extent of my coastal merchandise. Mia, however, allegedly had a large collection of beach things that she was still holding onto. Sure enough, when we got up to her apartment, piled with the remaining items that didn't make the move to my apartment were beach chairs, a beach umbrella, pool noodles, beach balls, and various items for making sandcastles.
I teased her a little bit for this. She complained about fitting all her "worldly possessions" into one tiny bachelor apartment and yet all this stuff made the cut? She didn't see my point; we were using it now, weren't we? I suppose, I told her, but I think we would have survived the trip without it.
While I lugged most of the stuff into the car, she went to check her mailbox. It was mostly junk mail and bills, her electric and water bills being rock bottom these past few months. However, tucked with all that was her Ivy University alumni magazine. When she showed it to me, I shrugged. To me that was junk mail too. I got the same kind of magazine from LTU, and I typically just threw it in the bin the moment I got it.
College was a means to an end for me, not a lifelong obligation. The idea of giving money to a place where I had already spent tens of thousands of dollars was wild. Maybe if I had money to burn, I would start a scholarship for underprivileged students or something, but I wasn't at that life stage yet. I was just getting used to living in an apartment with a dishwasher, sound-proofed walls, and a washer/dryer.
We were lucky that she took the time to flip through it though because it represented our first real breakthrough in the Dahlia Hawthorne case in months. On page seven of the magazine was a photo of the school's Literature Society at their bake sale fundraiser. Standing front row center in the photo, and holding part of the society's banner, was Dahlia Hawthorne, looking as innocent and unsuspecting as ever.
We were both galled by this reveal. Dahlia had just barely escaped prison and potentially the death penalty, and yet she wasn't keeping a low profile. She wasn't in hiding, she wasn't incognito, and she didn't flee the country like she had last time. She was going to school, 15 minutes away from our office, and flaunting her role in a minor university organization. It was insane. She obviously had no concern about getting apprehended eventually, yet she had killed once and had directly manipulated the suicide of another. She had learned nothing and received no consequences, so why wouldn't she kill again? It was unlikely that she had atoned for her sins and had become a model citizen.
On the drive over, we both pondered over what to do with that information. We now knew Dahlia's location, but that really didn't put us any further ahead. What were we going to do, confront her? She'd just lie like she did on the stand. We decided that the only course of action was to go poke around the campus someday to see what she had been up to since the trial. Most students were on vacation right now, so it would probably be easier to re-trace her movements without being noticed.
We landed at the beach around 11:30am and got set up while we waited for Maya. Her train was set to arrive a little before noon.
"What does your sister look like, anyway?" I asked.
"Trust me, you'll know her when you see her," Mia replied with amusement.
We heard the train roar into the station and looked over. Once it stopped, a large crowd of people poured out of the train doors, including a girl dressed in traditional-looking purple Japanese robes. She had long black hair that was tied into an unusual hairstyle, flip flops, a backpack, and, most importantly, she had the same magatama necklace as Mia, except hers was on a strand with large beads. They weren't uncannily alike, but the similarity was there.
I chuckled. "Okay I see what you mean," I said. She definitely stood out.
We flagged her over by waving and she beamed when she noticed us, running as fast as her flip flops would allow her towards us. I inhaled, bracing myself for the next few hours.
I loved kids. Kids were easy to get along with. If a kid is outgoing and talkative, you can say whatever wild or crazy thing pops into your head, and they'll think it's amazing. They wear their hearts on their sleeves and have no filter, so you don't ever have to overthink things. If a kid's quiet, you just find some activity they like and keep them occupied. This was more or less the approach I developed when I babysat as a pre-teen, when I needed money but couldn't start working real jobs yet, and it worked pretty well.
Maya was not a kid though, she was 14. Just finishing middle school and about to enter high school, or she would be if she went to a public school and not the one-room schoolhouse they have in Kurain Village. Not to generalize, but the teenaged demographic was my least favorite. Heck, I didn't even like hanging out with teenagers when I was a teenager. It was going to be a challenge figuring out how to talk to her.
Maya ran towards Mia and gave her a big hug, and somehow lifted her off the ground, despite being a hair under five feet tall and maybe 100 pounds. "Mia!" she exclaimed excitedly. Her voice was quite high-pitched. "I missed you so much."
Mia laughed. "I missed you too. I see all that training Aunt Morgan is making you do has paid off."
Maya groaned. "It's so exhausting. I'm so glad she finally let me leave today. I don't want to do anything."
"I don't blame you. We'll just have fun today, okay? Just beach games, swimming, and food."
"That sounds great!" Maya agreed. She turned her attention to me. "So, who is this?" she asked while giggling.
"Maya, I've told you about Diego, lots of times," Mia admonished. She didn't want me to think that I went unremarked upon these past five months.
"I know! I just wanted to be introduced. I've never met any of Mia's boyfriends before."
Mia blushed. "Well, there haven't been that many, that's why." I grinned. What are little sisters for if not to embarrass you. "This is Diego Armando."
"Nice to meet you," Maya said, before hugging me and then attempting to pick me up off the ground too. She was unsuccessful in her attempt.
"Maya!" Mia exclaimed. "You can't just do that without asking."
"Sorry," Maya replied sheepishly, pulling away. "I just wanted to see if I could. Need more training still."
I cleared my throat. "Uh, nice to meet you too. I wouldn't feel bad, I'm a lot heavier than your sister."
"How much do you weigh?" Maya asked innocently.
"Maya!" Mia exclaimed again with even more incredulity. Mia was a little sensitive about weight discussions. She said that her mom and aunt would weigh her every day when she was still potentially in line to be the Master, and it gave her a bit of a complex. In one of my not so finest moments, I told her that I understood; I would be self-conscious too if I was weighed like a prized pig every day. I meant to be supportive, but the phrasing was ridiculously insensitive in hindsight. I don't know how she possibly could be insecure though; she looks perfect. However, I didn't offer my "helpful" comments on that matter again.
I laughed. "It's okay," I said. "I'm 190lbs."
"Wow 190! That's really, really big. That's like almost twice what I weigh," Maya exclaimed.
I laughed again. "Tell me how you really feel, Maya."
"Mia, can we get some protein powder before I head back? I need to bulk up so I can get stronger."
Mia shook her head in disbelief. "I don't know where we'd find some around here."
"Diego has a car, right? Maybe we can drive somewhere."
"Do you even like protein powder?" I asked.
"I think so," Maya replied. "It tastes like milkshakes, right?"
"Not exactly," I said. "It's kind of like powdered milk, except grittier and clumpier and with artificial flavor and sweeteners."
"Oh," she said in disgust. "Never mind then. Do milkshakes have protein in them, Diego?"
She was being earnest, so I tried not to laugh. "Uh, some. You like cheeseburgers, right?"
"I looooove cheeseburgers."
"Just eat those then. Lots of protein in cheeseburgers."
"Ok! Mia, can we go get some cheeseburgers?"
Mia and I both laughed. I was no longer worried about conversing with a surly teenager. Mia had told me about some of the lengths of Maya's training and it was pretty mind-blowing. I think most grown adults would have quit long ago if they had to do all the things that she was expected to do in the run of a day. It required a lot of physical and mental endurance. Yet, Maya still had this childlike quality about her. I imagine growing up in a village in the wilderness, away from most pop culture and people her age made her a little sheltered in other ways.
"You're such a goof," Mia said affectionately, standing behind Maya, tousling her hair and then wrapping her arms around her. "We're burning daylight out here. What do you want to do?"
Maya pulled away and looked around. "I don't know," she said, her voice trailing off. "There's so much to do but not a lot of time." She looked at me for an answer. "What would you do, Diego?" she asked expectantly.
Honestly, I was quite exhausted myself so laying on my towel and sleeping or reading that pulpy mystery novel I brought with me seemed most appealing right now. However, I doubted Maya was the type to relax quietly for hours. "Well, as you can see-" I said, pointing to all the stuff we unpacked. "-Mia has brought the entire summer section of a department store with her, so pretty much anything 'beach' is on the table. Beach volleyball, swimming, sandcastles, pool noodle fights, you name it."
Maya giggled. "Yeah, that's true."
"Or we can just dig a big ol' hole," I added jokingly.
"Why would we do that?" Maya asked curiously.
"You've never tried to dig a hole big enough that you can stand in it?"
"No, but that sounds cool!" she exclaimed.
Oh no. Why did I suggest that? Lord knows, it will be my 190-pound ass that will be digging most of that hole. At least she wasn't that tall.
Once Maya selected the perfect spot, the three of us started digging, the two of them using sand shovels while I just dug with my bare hands. They were digging gingerly, getting distracted as they reminisced and laughed about childhood memories and talked about goings-on at the Village. I tried to contribute to the conversation when I could, but I had no idea what they were talking about most of the time. They seemingly had multiple conversations going on at the same time but could keep on top of them all.
After about forty-five minutes, contributing about three quarters of the work by myself, we had a hole tall enough for Maya to stand in. Maya took her shoes off and stepped into the hole, and Mia and I buried her up to her neck.
Maya thought this was the greatest thing ever and asked us to take lots of photos of her making silly faces and a photo of her with Mia, Mia pretending she was about to kick Maya's head like a soccer ball and Maya pretending to scream. She got Mia to roughly trace out a mermaid body on the sand near her head and we took a picture of that too. Following about five minutes of photo ops, we pulled her out, filled in the hole, and it was on to the next thing. After all that work, she better cherish those photos.
Mia suggested we go swimming while the sun was highest and warmest, and I told them to go on without me. They walked together to the shore, wearing similar one-piece bathing suits, Maya's in dark purple and Mia's light purple, while I laid back on my towel and started to read. It was hard to concentrate, I was so tired, and I kept reading the same page over and over again, not absorbing it. I was starting to zone out, listening to the waves and the chatter of people, but not noticing much else around me.
I was nearly asleep, the book lying face down on my chest, when I got a rude awakening. Mia swiftly pulled the book away before Maya dumped a bucket of water on my head. I think this is what they call Khura'inese water torture. "Wake up, Diego," Maya said in a sing-song voice while Mia giggled.
I tried my best not to be angry. I needed to make a good impression after all. A little bit slipped out though, and I grumbled as I tried to shake the water off my hair and wring it out of my shirt.
"Sorry," Mia said, still laughing. "We just couldn't resist." That's not really an apology.
I shook the anger off. "Oh yeah?" I said, raising one eyebrow. I grabbed another bucket and ran towards the water, filling it up.
"Oh no!" Mia exclaimed. She stood primed and ready to dodge me as I emerged from the water. We bobbed and weaved for a bit; when she moved one way, I'd mirror her. Finally, she made a run for it, and I caught up with her, dumping the full bucket on her head. She shrieked in laughter as the cold water poured over her. I dropped the bucket and grabbed her waist from behind, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around.
"He got you back good Mia!" Maya called out, about 15 feet away, closer to our stuff.
I set Mia down and picked up the bucket. "You're next!" I called back to Maya, pointing at her menacingly, before heading back to the water. When I reemerged, I saw that Maya was standing under the beach umbrella.
"You can't dump it on my head with this umbrella here," she said smugly.
"That's true," I said, pretending to be perplexed, before I pulled the bucket back and tossed the contents at her sideways, hitting her in her torso instead of her head.
"Nooo!" Maya cried out.
"Now we're even," I said, tossing the bucket on the ground by the other sandcastle supplies. I grabbed my towel, shook out the sand, and started drying my hair and shirt.
Mia laughed. "We're sorry. We learned our lesson."
"Yeah," Maya agreed. "Can we get food now?" she asked. "I'm hungry."
Mia laughed again. "Maya, it's not even 3pm. That's too soon for dinner."
"I know," Maya groaned. "But I'm so hungry already. I didn't eat much today. All I had was a bowl of oatmeal, a banana, and a glass of milk. And a handful of nuts. And a chocolate bar. Oh, and that beef jerky!"
"Is that all?" I teased. "Maya, you're practically wasting away." She grinned back at me. I was actually pretty hungry too. Me and Mia had a decent breakfast before we left but that was hours ago. I looked around at the buildings along the boardwalk; there seemed to be a few restaurants. "We're all too wet to go in the car, but wanna check out one of the restaurants along the boardwalk?"
They both nodded. We started packing up all the stuff, folding the umbrella and chairs, stacking the buckets, deflating the beach balls, and shaking the sand out of our damp towels before hanging them around our necks. I grabbed the chairs and the pool noodles and was about to head towards the car when Mia slung the umbrella's strap on my shoulder as well. She smirked at me as she did. Maya thought this was hilarious, loading me up like a mule, so grabbed all the sandcastle supplies and deflated beach balls and placed them in each of my hands. She then slung her backpack on my shoulder as well, giggling.
I sighed and began slowly trudging the 500 feet to my car. "You Fey girls are going to be the death of me," I muttered.
Mia laughed. "Sorry, we were just goofing around. What can I take off your hands?"
I shook my head and laughed breathlessly. "It's okay, I'll make it." Now that I was all loaded up, it'd take coordination to hand off one item without dropping the others. Besides, as awkward as it was to carry, I didn't want them to think I was incapable.
They walked about ten feet in front of me, chatting, although Mia would look behind her periodically to see if I was keeping pace. It looked like she felt guilty, but I made my choice to carry everything. When we reached the car, they carefully pulled each item from me and loaded them into the trunk and backseat. When I was free of everything, I cracked my neck, shook my limbs out, and flexed my hands open and closed.
Maya started walking ahead of us, but Mia hung back as I grabbed my wallet and locked the car. "Thanks for carrying all that stuff," she said sweetly before giving me a quick peck on the lips. I grinned back at her. She grabbed my hand, and we started walking.
All worth it for that, I thought. I'm so whipped now that I wanted to laugh. I wonder if Mia knew how much she had me wrapped around her little finger; at this point, I'd do anything for her.
We all walked along the boardwalk and examined our restaurant options. There were only three options to choose from and all seemed to be tourist traps with similar menu offerings. Mia and I let Maya pick the restaurant and she chose Squid Pro Quo because she thought the name was funny and she liked the bright yellow paint color of the cedar plank building.
The inside was exactly what I expected: round wooden tables with matching captain's chairs; anchor, buoy, and ship wheel tchotchkes scattered about; paintings of old wooden ships and beach scenes on the walls; and fishnets hanging from the ceiling. Since we arrived at an off-hour, it was surprisingly dead in there, despite how packed the beach was, and we were seated quickly. We sat down and looked at our menus. Yikes. Looks like they charged tourist prices too. "Get whatever you want," I said. "On me."
"It's my turn to pay," Mia countered. "You got the last one."
I waved her off. "I insist." I don't think I had to try that hard to receive Maya's stamp of approval, she was pretty easy-going, but I wanted her to know that I wasn't a cheapskate to her sister.
"Anything?" Maya asked, wide-eyed.
"You don't know what you just did," Mia said sarcastically. "If you let her, she will eat you out of house and home."
I laughed. "It's all right. Maya's small, how much could she possibly eat anyway?"
"Trust me," Mia replied. She turned to Maya. "No more than two things," she warned. "And only water or fountain drinks."
"Okay," Maya said disappointedly.
After a few minutes of perusing our menus, the waitress came by to take our order. Mia got a house salad with chicken, and I ordered the calamari basket, figuring it must be their specialty given the restaurant name.
"And for you, miss?" the waitress asked Maya.
"I'll get the lobster roll platter and the 12oz steak dinner, medium rare. Oh, and a water!" She looked at us proudly, like she really saved me some money with that drink order.
I exhaled, laughing, and rubbed my eyes. The waitress looked at me funny. "It's nothing," I said. She collected our menus and walked away.
Mia looked mortified. "Maya, really?"
"What?" Maya asked innocently. "You said I could get two things."
"I meant two reasonable things. Like an entrée and a dessert. Not the two most expensive things on the menu."
"It's okay Maya," I said seriously. "I might not be able to pay rent this month anymore, but Mia and I will figure it out."
"I'm really sorry," Maya said remorsefully.
"I'm joking," I said. "Little pricey, but just make sure you eat it all or take the rest of it home."
She smiled and nodded in agreement. "I like Diego," Maya said brightly.
Mia laughed. "Why, because he's buying you food?"
"No," Maya corrected. "Okay, maybe that's part of it." We all laughed. "You two are really cute together."
"Thanks," I replied and looked at Mia to gauge her reaction. She smiled warmly at me, and I smiled back.
"When are you getting married?" Maya asked casually.
"Maya!" Mia exclaimed, visibly flustered. "I swear, you're playing a game with yourself today to see how much you can embarrass me. We've only been together for less than five months, you can't just..."
I cut her off. "We'll get married as soon as I wear your sister down," I joked. "Knowing her, that might take a while." Mia looked at me with astonishment. She scanned my face, trying to read me.
I feel pathetic to admit this, especially since I can't even be certain that she loves me, but back when I thought she did, I bought an engagement ring. It's in a red velvet box and hidden back at my apartment. I knew it was too soon, she'd think I was crazy if I ever asked her, but I felt compelled to buy one anyway. It's like I needed to be ready at a moment's notice to ask, whenever the time came.
I wanted a woman's opinion to purchase the right one, so I enlisted the help of Lana, the two of us going to a swanky jewelry store one evening after work. I had told Mia that I had an appointment that evening. She seemed skeptical but didn't press me on it. Lana sounded completely shocked on the phone because it was so early in the relationship but agreed to help me.
After thoroughly browsing the store, we both agreed on the same one: a plain white gold band with a two-carat oval diamond. Lab-grown, of course. I would have sprung for a natural one but, based on Mia's stances on justice and social issues, I assumed her preference even if we hadn't explicitly discussed it. It was very simple, but we ruled the others out as they all seemed too gaudy or ostentatious for her. This one matched the earrings that she always wore too.
When I bought the ring, Lana started tearing up, and I felt horrible. When I first met her, I got the inkling that her feelings for Mia weren't entirely platonic. I gently broached the topic with Mia after one of our hangouts with Lana and she told me that I was crazy, so I dropped it. I went ahead with the assumption that I was wrong but, after this interaction, I felt certain that I was right after all. Dragging Lana with me there, she probably thought I was rubbing it in her face. "It's okay," I had said, consoling her. "Mia probably will say no anyway." She wiped her tears and said she had no idea what I was talking about.
"Oh, can I be the maid-of-honor?" Maya asked excitedly.
"He's just joking around," Mia said.
"No, I'm not," I clarified.
We looked at each other intensely.
"We can always check and see if he's telling the truth," Maya suggested.
"Maya..." Mia replied sternly.
"What do you mean by that?" I asked. Mia just sat there and didn't say anything.
"Does he not know?" Maya asked panickily.
"Know about what?"
Mia sighed. She grabbed her necklace. "This necklace is not just a necklace. It..." she stopped talking as the waitress returned, delivering our food. After the waitress confirmed that we had everything we needed, she walked away, and Mia and Maya started eating. Seriously? I know she isn't stupid, but she must think I am. That or easily distracted.
"So, about this necklace?" I asked, before I popped a piece of incredibly mediocre fried calamari in my mouth.
Mia put her index finger up, indicating that she needed to finish her bite before speaking. She must have chewed that same bite 30 times. "Right. That necklace. Well..."
"How are the first few bites tasting?" the waitress asked, after returning to our table.
"Perfect, thank you," I said briskly. She nodded and walked away again. "Well?"
Mia sighed again. "It's hard to explain. Basically...it lets me see into other people's souls."
"You're going to have to be more specific," I said.
"When I use it, and ask someone a question, I can determine if they are being truthful. If they are withholding information."
"So, it's essentially a lie detector?" I asked.
She thought for a moment. "I guess so. More accurate than a lie detector though. We've tested it."
"How did you test it?"
Maya filled me in on that question. I was so focused on Mia, that I momentarily forgot Maya was even there. "We would instruct someone to secretly write a number down and then ask them what they wrote. We could always tell when they said the right or wrong number."
"I see." I said quietly. I was completely dumbfounded. She's literally had a magical, lie-detecting necklace around her neck ever since I've known her, and I'm just hearing about it now? With all this talk about honesty and trust, I feel like this was a pretty egregious oversight. "When were you going to tell me about this?"
"I don't know," Mia said contritely. "Sometime. I don't tell anybody about it. I did when I was younger, and it made people too self-conscious to be around me."
"I can see why," I replied flatly.
Maya looked upset. "Sorry I brought this up," she said frantically. "I just thought it would be a funny joke."
"It's okay, I'm not mad. Just surprised." I spoke as neutrally as possible, bottling up how rattled I was. My problem right now is not with Maya.
We wordlessly ate for a minute or two and then Maya broke the silence. "Mia, did you know that Aunt Morgan and Pearl are going to Samurai Park this summer?"
"Really?" Mia asked. "Isn't that place expensive?"
"Uh-huh. They're staying there for a week too. Getting a nice hotel and everything." Maya spoke cheerfully, but Mia looked irritated.
"I didn't know Aunt Morgan was such a fan," Mia said skeptically.
"Not her, silly. Pearl is!" Maya corrected.
"Maya, Pearl is four. She probably likes pretty much any show you put in front of her."
I started to read between the lines. "Maya are you a big fan of, uh, samurai stuff?" I asked. I wasn't familiar with any particular samurai show that she might have watched. I caught a glimpse of Mia in my peripheral vision, and she looked relieved that I was talking again.
"I love it!" Maya exclaimed, beaming. "All of it. It's hard to pick a favorite show."
That was confirmation of what I had suspected. This wasn't a nice mother-daughter outing. This was some sort of taunt to Maya. Look where we're going without you.
"When is the trip?" Mia asked.
"Let me think...the last week of August. Pearl is nervous about starting school in September, so she wanted her to have something fun to look forward to before then."
Maybe Aunt Morgan wasn't completely heartless. This rationale seemed quite reasonable. It was the choice of activity that wasn't.
Mia was shaking her head in frustration. Damn it, I was still mad at her, but I didn't like seeing her so upset. "So, they'll be away from the Village that whole week?" I asked.
"Yeah! It'll be so great. One week of no training and no school."
I could visibly see the wheels turning in Mia's head. She saw the opportunity. "Do you have any vacation days left?" she asked me.
"Too many to ever use," I said sarcastically. Getting a day off could be such a hassle, especially during the busier times, so I didn't ask for a vacation day unless it was very important. Since I've been there over three years now, I probably had almost four times as many days banked as Mia. I don't remember her taking a day off either.
"Maya, what if we came down to visit you that week?" Mia asked eagerly.
"That would be awesome! Where would you stay though?"
"We'd get a hotel nearby or something. I've been saving money since I started my job. I can afford it now," Mia replied. I wanted to roll my eyes. As if I would let her pay for it all by herself. "We'll book it off, when we get back," she continued. Technically, Mia had never asked me if I would do this but let's be real with myself. After I got over my irritation with her, I wasn't ever going to say no.
"Aw, thank you," Maya said delightedly. "I'll look forward to this all summer!"
The rest of the meal wasn't noteworthy, other than when it came time to pay the $115 bill, not including tax and tip. Maya was a slow eater, but she managed to finish about 2/3 of each dish, dutifully packing up the rest for a snack later. She said that she would have eaten everything, but she was saving room for ice cream.
The three of us walked along the boardwalk and explored the shops there. Just like all the restaurants, they were tourist traps, selling overpriced knick knacks, clothing, and souvenirs. We didn't buy anything, but they had fun trying on hats, sniffing candles, and shaking snow globes.
Our final stop of the day, before Maya had to catch the last train at seven, was at a small café and ice cream shop. Maya insisted on paying, pulling a crumpled $20 bill from her backpack. I wasn't particularly hungry, but the gesture seemed to mean a lot to her, so I ordered an affogato while Maya got a cone of rocky road and Mia a cup of strawberry.
Maya seemed intrigued, never seeing coffee served with ice cream before. "Can I try some?" she asked. "You can have some of mine too," she offered.
I looked at the melted ice cream dripping down the side of her cone and laughed. "That's okay," I said before handing her my cup.
She took a bite and grimaced. "That would be good if it didn't have coffee in it."
"So just vanilla ice cream?"
"Yeah exactly!" she replied enthusiastically. Mia and I both smirked.
After ice cream, we walked Maya to the platform and waited until the train pulled into the station. They had a bittersweet goodbye, but were uplifted thinking about the plans for August. Maya got a seat next to the window and we waved to her until she couldn't see us anymore. Then we watched as the train disappeared in the distance.
Mia sighed. "Sometimes I wonder if I should have left the Village after all. These goodbyes are always so hard." I understood what she meant, but it wasn't what I needed to hear right now. If she still lived in the Village, we never would have met. "Do you want to stay and watch the sunset?" she asked. "I think it'll be in an hour or so."
"It's getting late," I said plainly. "We still have a two-hour drive home." I started walking towards the car and she trailed behind me by a few feet. Without a word, we got into the car, and drove off. Mia tried to make small talk, but I answered minimally, giving her nothing to work with.
"Are you still mad at me?" she finally asked. I looked at her briefly and nodded. "Why?"
"Really?" I asked incredulously. "You don't know why I'd be mad that you've been carrying this thing around for the past five months and never mentioned it once."
"I never mentioned it because I knew we'd have this fight."
"We're having this fight because it pisses me off that you made such a big deal about your trust issues and how honesty is so important to you when you secretly have this magical tool that overrides all of that."
She crossed her arms. "It doesn't matter that I have this. It's irrelevant."
"How would it not matter? If I checked your phone to see if you were calling or texting with anyone else, would you call that trust or confirmation?"
She scoffed. "So that's why you're mad. I never used it on you. Not even once." She shook her head. "Why would that bother you anyway. Is there something I should know?" she asked bitingly.
I rolled my eyes. "This isn't a confession," I barbed back. "I'd just like to have a normal relationship where we actually trust each other, and the other person isn't secretly surveilling the other."
"I already told you that I didn't use it on you. Do you not trust me?"
I shook my head, buying time. I was still angry, but she had a point. I exhaled. "How can I be sure of that? You have this magical all-knowing device and you've never been tempted to use it even once?"
"Being tempted and doing it are two different things," she argued. "I've thought about it, but I've never done it. To you, anyway."
I was quiet. I wanted to believe her, but I still had my doubts. I knew I had been straight with her so, if she had used it, you'd think she'd be more trusting and open. I exhaled again. "Show me."
"Alright," she said shortly. She must have been more frustrated than I thought. She didn't try to push back at all on this request.
Her necklace started glowing but nothing else was happening. Then I felt it. This tightness over my torso, like someone had strapped me into my chair. I was lucky that my arms were unaffected, and I was still able to drive. "What now?" I asked.
"I'll ask you questions and see if you answer them honestly." She paused for a moment, thinking. "Have you slept with 22 women?" she asked.
I laughed sarcastically. "If I was going to lie to you, wouldn't I have picked a lower number?"
"Just checking that nothing has changed since you answered that question and that...they were all women."
My eyes opened widely, raising both of my eyebrows in shock. The question was preposterous. I didn't have a phase in college like she did, or any other time for that matter, and I couldn't have cheated, even if I had wanted to. We spent every waking moment together. "Yes," I eventually replied.
She paused again, generating her next question. "Were you actually in the document room to grab files before we got together?"
I chuckled. She had said things before that indicated she knew, but we had never discussed it. "Okay you caught me," I said. "How else was I supposed to see you?"
She shook her head and exhaled sharply, letting out a small laugh. "I knew it. Even months later, I still can't sort through files that quickly."
"Guilty," I said jokingly. "I just grabbed random archival papers every time." This was still a tense experience, but this silly question had lightened the mood considerably.
She paused the longest before the next question. "Do you love me?" she asked.
I wasn't expecting that one. Maybe she did care after all. "Of course," I said, exasperated, briefly taking my eyes off the road to look at her. Whatever she was doing with that necklace, she stopped, and I could feel my body untensing. "What's the verdict?"
"You were telling the truth," she said quietly.
"What did I tell you?" I asked. She didn't answer at all, and we sat in silence for a few minutes.
I sighed. "I'm sorry," I finally said. "I should have believed you when you said you hadn't done that before. I would have remembered that."
She smiled slightly. "Thank you. I'm sorry too."
I thought I had figured out the cause of her silence, but she still seemed upset. "What's wrong?'' I asked.
"If you love me, why did you stop saying it?"
So she had noticed. She didn't seem bothered in the slightest when we stopped saying it. "You never said it first. I didn't want to railroad you."
"Oh," she replied nervously.
"Why wouldn't you say it?"
She paused again. "I don't know," she said emotionlessly.
She didn't elaborate more, and I knew better than to ask at this point. Not the answer I was looking for, but I had to leave it there. Unlike her, I didn't have a way to investigate further.