Historically Inaccurate

🌥 F I V E 🌥

"So, because Thanksgiving is an American Holiday I really think I should visit you on Christmas." I push the door of the fridge closed, carrying the jug of milk to the table where my bowl of cereal is waiting.

"Hmm," Mom's voice fills the air, her cup of coffee the only thing that is focused on my phone screen while she prepares her breakfast, "but then who will your dad spend Christmas with?"

"Güelita."

"She lives a day away."

"Yeah and he should visit her more often." Mom walks into frame taking her cup of coffee and drinking from it. She's wearing a dark blue blazer over her coral button down shirt, her hair up in a ponytail.

"We'll see what happens, I don't want him to be alone." I shrug, taking a spoonful of my cereal. It's not like I want to leave dad alone on Christmas either, but I didn't get to visit mom last year.

"Aren't you running late?" I ask her, "Your students are going to get there before you."

She rolls her eyes.

"Ay si, they should use the time I'm not there to actually do their homework instead of asking for an extension" Mom teaches English classes at a private school in Monterrey, and while it does not have the best pay, it gives her enough money to pay for rent. "How are your classes?"

"Good," I respond, through a mouthful of food and by the look she gives me I know she doesn't like this.

"Have you joined any clubs this semester?'

Well...

"The History Club, yeah," I see her checking her phone which tells me she is running late.

"Do you like it?"

Well...

"Yeah, it's fun and Carlos is in it."

"Oh, that's great. Well corazón  I gotta go, I'll message you later."

"Ok Mami, mucho cuidado." I send her a flying kiss and she returns it before hanging up, her image freezing up and then going black, allowing me to see the messaging app and the red notifications popping off its corner.

I sigh, we agreed to meet at a coffee shop near the school, that way I could work on my homework after he left. I have a bad feeling and it's not the fact that I probably won't be doing my homework and instead will just roam on tumblr for the majority of the afternoon.

The envelope Anna gave me glares at me from on top of the table, golden wax glinting with the sunlight.

I could lie and tell him the key was destroyed. But just as I'm thinking about this, Anna's voice creeps into my mind.

Who knows, maybe he's more interested in us than we are in him.

Right. I think, opening up my messages.

Ethan: I'll meet you inside then?

Yeah, I'll be there around ten.

Ethan: Ok.

Ethan: OMW

Concha jumps on the chair next to mine, purring when I pet her head. I reach for the envelope.

"Well, here goes nothing."

🌥

Have you ever felt like the protagonist in a mafia movie? Because I sure as hell do. I mean think about it, I have a package to deliver to a complete stranger at a disclosed location both of us agreed to meet. The object being a slightly bulgy envelope that might or might not be a payment for a hitman to get rid of my husband's new girlfriend after I found them sleeping together in our expensive...well, you get the idea.