It’s a holiday party. The night is cool, the company is nice, and I’m here with my sweetie. He’s out of sight. I sip my punch and scan the room. I see the tree sparkling and people standing about, surrounding the dessert table. I look down and see my small plate has only a crumb and a sprinkle to offer me.
This can’t be!
I walk over to the dessert table, drawn by the green glaze of the pretzel wreaths, and reach down to get one.
A hand stops me. I look up, confused and annoyed. I’m hungry, man!
It’s an unfamiliar man. He wears a blue ugly Christmas sweater, gold thread embedded in the fibers.
“Hi, I’m Diego Martinez”, he says. His hand reaches out. “I also worked for Amazon”.
I shake his hand, flustered. I grab the pretzel wreath and begin to converse with him. He’s a friendly enough man here. He recognized my name from an old training he gave when I first joined the company, and him about to leave the institution.
Right. I remembered. The excitement of such a discovery, the changing of worlds.
It’s too much for me right now.
I see my sweetie. I excuse myself, hoping to find some comfort on the other side of the room. It’s no use. His daughter Paulina (they allow kids here?) tags along after me. I slow my walk down. It’s no use to abandon her. I hear her ask me about my sweetie. I brush the hair out of my face and laugh a little, hoping to relieve the tension rising in my chest.
She echos my laugh and asks again. Huh? Her question startles me.
Diego Martinez follows behind her and scoops her up until she’s comfortably leaning into his chest. I look around, and meet my sweetie’s and Diego’s eyes.
I decide to answer her question. Why not?
“My darling is my lovely husband. He’s the one who buys me dinner, is …., and on more than one occasion has been nicer to me than I am myself. He’s given me soup and medicine and kind words when I’m sick, and texts me when he’s on the way to pick me up. He has shown nothing but kindness to me, and on moments when he hasn’t, I’ve told him so and came to see that it’s been a misunderstanding. He’s a tranquil man, loyal to his family, and I’m proud to stand by his side.”
I feel relaxed and look at Diego. My eyes move over to see the people once more. A lady in a red coat adjusts her slouch hat, a line forms around the hot cocoa bar, and I see the sparkle of apple cider splash into a clear cup. I smile. After all, it’s a holiday party.
AmyLeeThinks 