Page 13 of A Curvy Girl’s Hurricane Survival Guide

I didn’t think she’d notice. My mind scrambles for an out.

“Cai,” Sonny says quietly. “You have to tell them.”

I look at him, mouth open. He hasn’t lasted ten minutes! He turns to my mother and continues, “Ma’am, your daughter had an unfortunate run-in with a piece of gum.” My mom raises an eyebrow and looks at him like he’s lost the plot. “It turns out breathing and chewing gum while seated in a plane was almost too much for her. She almost perished by choking on the gum. Afterward, the tears were a side effect of the dislodging.”

Sonny delivers the whole thing with seriousness.

Mama and Tia Julia stare at him for a beat, then look at each other—and burst out laughing.

“¡Ay, Dios mío!” Tia Julia wheezes, clutching her side. “A gum assassin! Only you, Cayetana.”

Mama wipes her eyes, still chuckling. “Mi hijo, you’re quick. I like that.”

I am relieved Sonny had explained my red-rimmed eyes away, even if I wish they weren’t laughing quite so hard. I catch Sonny’s eye and mouth a silent “thank you.” He gives a tiny, satisfied shrug, as if he’s just won a round.

“Ven,” she says, waiving him over. “We are cooking everything so that it doesn’t go bad if we lose the light.”

I turn to Sonny, who is looking confused. “She means if we lose power, all the refrigerated food goes bad. So what we do is make all the food that will spoil if the power goes out, eat it, and then it won’t be wasted.”

“Yes,” my mom says impatiently, stirring a pot. “I said it in English. You don’t have to explain.”

I look at Sonny with wide eyes. See what I mean?

“No ma’am, it’s not your English. This is just my first hurricane,” Sonny says.

Tia Julia and Mama gasp as if he just said something truly shocking.

“Ay, Dios mio,” Tia Julia says, crossing herself.

Mama grabs a plate and starts loading food on it. “Mijo, I didn’t know. Here, eat something!”

I look over at his plate, checking out the spread: Arroz con pollo and some yucca. It smells like home. “Mmm, Mama, it smells good!”

“Really, Cayetana? Do you only think about food?” My mom says.

Ah, there is the side of self-loathing. Now it felt like home.

SONNY

I didn’t want to do it. I really wanted Cai to tell her mom and aunt the truth. I wanted to watch her mom despise the man as I did. But one look at Cai’s face, the panic starting to rise behind her eyes, and I was compelled to protect her, to step in.

It was worth it. Her mom and aunt are laughing. Cai looks relieved and looks at me with… is that just appreciation? Or something more?

The food they are laying out before me was unlike anything I had ever seen or smelled, and it makes my mouth water. Cai’s mother scoops something that looks like a casserole of rice, chicken, and peas onto a plate for me once she hears this is my first hurricane. Weird response, but I’m not going to turn it down!

“¡Come!” her mom says. “Eat. You need your strength.”

Then, noticing a group of men hauling plywood through the backyard, she pushes open the window over the kitchen sink and yells, “Crispiano! Make sure you’re drinking water!” A man lifts a hand and waves the concern away. “Don’t just ignore me; we don’t need you getting deshidratación! And tell Papa too!”

“Mama!” the man yells back. “He’s sixty-five! He doesn’t need me telling him to drink water!”

For the briefest of moments, I think Cai’s mom might jump through the window after them, pulling herself up with one arm while shaking her fist with the other.

Cai’s aunt, who brought something over that looks fried and delicious, and Cai herself, who starts picking at it, seem unbothered. I guess it’s normal for an older woman to haul herself up and yell threats at other family members.

“You never get too old to listen to Mama!” she yells.

The man grumbles an ok before going back to what he was doing.