"Anything I should know about your parents?" Erik asked, gently squeezing my hand, his eyes sparkling with joy.
"Yes, they don't speak English," I reminded him with a hint of amusement.
After going to the police station with Vir to report what had happened with Oliver, we had something to eat at the bar across the street to calm our nerves and celebrate that Oliver wouldn't get away with it again. Now we just had to wait for everything to be processed. It was possible that I would have to go back once I was on the island, but Erik had already assured me that he would come with me and not leave me alone in all this, unless I wanted him to stay, which, of course, I didn't.
"Pero yo se poco español ahora," he said, making me laugh at the way he pronounced the phrase in rushed Spanish.
"Enough to win over my dad?" I looked at him teasingly.
"Do you want me to win over your dad?" he hinted with a mischievous smile.
"Don't start answering with questions," I complained, and he let out a laugh.
I stopped in front of a building and took a deep breath, feeling a surge of nervousness. I didn't know exactly how to approach the conversation with my parents. They already sensed that Oliver wasn't the angel I had sometimes painted him out to be, but they didn't know the extent of the problems I had had with him and, honestly, I preferred it to stay that way. They also didn't know anything about Erik, although my mother was already aware that I had returned for a few days' visit accompanied by a 'friend' and that I wanted them to meet him.
As I pressed the doorbell, my mother answered instantly and opened the building door. We got into the elevator and, before we reached the floor, I could already hear her opening the door to greet us.
"¡Mi niña! Cuanto tiempo." she exclaimed, rushing to hug me before laying eyes on Erik.
"Solo han pasado tres semanas" I replied with an affectionate smile. "Mamá, este es Erik," I said, and she looked at him with wide eyes, as if she didn't expect my friend to be so... handsome? Sexy?
"Hello, Erik, encantada," she said, obviously in Spanish, extending her arms to give him a hug.
Erik leaned in to reciprocate the hug without any difficulty.
"Hola, encantado," he said fluently in Spanish, albeit with an adorable and slight accent.
We went into the house and the familiar aroma enveloped me. My parents' house had a particular smell that I would recognize anywhere in the world. My father appeared from the kitchen with a wide smile and hugged me tightly, not taking his eyes off Erik.
"Hola," said my father, extending his hand in a friendly gesture. Erik shook it with a warm smile.
"Hi, soy Erik. Encantado de conocerle," he said fluently.
Either he had practiced those phrases a lot or he knew more Spanish than he had led me to believe.
"Por favor, venir. Tu padre estaba terminando la comida. Arroz para la niña" my mother said, guiding us towards the dining room. I turned to Erik with a knowing smile.
"My dad is making paella, you're going to have the pleasure of trying it," I said, and his eyes widened with excitement.
Oliver hated going to my parents' house because there were always awkward silences. My parents had never been very fond of him, although they had never interfered in our relationship. However, both of them seemed to be delighted with Erik and, despite the language barrier, between what I translated and my 'friend's' attempts to speak Spanish, the meal was most enjoyable. Erik was fascinated by the paella and, as soon as we finished, he offered to help my father clear the table and make coffee.
"He's very nice," my mother commented once they both left the dining room. I nodded enthusiastically.
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"He is. And very attentive, sweet, funny..." I trailed off before my mother jumped to conclusions, but it was too late. She had already reached them a while ago.
"I've never seen you so radiant, Andy. I see you happy," she said affectionately, taking my hand.
"It's just that with him, everything is so easy," I looked down.
"And what's the problem with a man making everything easy? You're too used to having a jerk make your life difficult. You should enjoy yourself now that you've finally dared to claim your own happiness," she told me, squeezing my hand.
"It's too soon. I'm not ready," I said, scared of what I felt for Erik.
"Honey, it'll be a year soon since you left that horrible house. If you're feeling good things now, don't self-sabotage and enjoy yourself. Erik seems like a good man."
I looked at my mother and nodded with a shy smile.
"He is."
My father and Erik appeared through the door, laughing at something, and I wondered what it could be.
"Andy, tenemos que ir donde vives," my father said suddenly and I looked at him surprised.
"¿Por?" I asked.
"Oliver me ha dicho que vive en un faro. Tengo que verlo." he explained and then I noticed a detail that I hadn't noticed before. My father loved lighthouses, he had several models and whenever we went to a coastal town, he wanted to go visit them.
"That's true," I murmured to myself, surprised at the coincidence. "Enseñalé tus maquetas," I said and he nodded, calling Erik over with his hand to take him to a room where my father used to lock himself up to read or do crafts, which he loved.
"Your father was worried that you had met another jerk, but it's obvious that he likes him," my mother said, looking at the coffee cups. "Four?"
"Yes, I drink coffee now too," I laughed as I took the cup I knew Erik had made for me; it was easy to identify because he always left the spoon in after adding the sugar, a small gesture that I loved.
"I see." My mother smiled slyly, taking another cup and adding sugar.
"Your father has a perfect replica of Mazatlán," Erik returned excitedly.
"La de México," my father clarified so that Erik knew which lighthouse he was referring to.
"Ah, do you like them too?" I asked the redhead as he sat down next to me and put his arm over the back of my chair, with a loving and close gesture.
"I'm a lighthouse keeper, of course I like them," he joked. "But the Mazatlán lighthouse is famous because it's the tallest in the world," he explained enthusiastically.
"Do you want to go to Mexico to see it?" I asked playfully, seeing his expression of an excited child at the idea. Although being Erik, I bet he did.
"Can we?" he asked in surprise, and I wondered if he was really considering the idea of a trip of such characteristics together. But being Erik, I bet he was.
"They speak Spanish there and it's not cold. We can," I laughed, and Erik gave me a kiss on the cheek, making me blush under my mother's tender gaze.
My mother, with her maternal look and a smile she couldn't hide, seemed to want to perpetuate the moment, as if she were sending off a son who was leaving on a long journey. Erik, for his part, responded to her affection with warmth and kindness, his eyes shining with genuine admiration. I, on the other hand, was torn between discomfort and amusement. It was obvious that my mother had developed a special fondness for Erik, and I wouldn't be surprised if she already considered him a potential son-in-law. The idea made me feel a mix of nerves and butterflies in my stomach.
The farewell between Erik and my parents was a scene worthy of a romantic comedy. With the determination of a warrior, I took Erik by the arm and dragged him towards the exit door.
"Come on, let's go," I said in a tone that did not allow for replies.
"Fue un placer conocerles," Erik said, giving my mother a big hug and a cordial handshake to my father.
"Igualmente, hijo. Vuelve cuando quieras," she replied with a radiant smile.
I went back to my parents to say goodbye with a kiss and a hug.
"¡Nos vemos pronto! Lo prometo," I repeated for the third time.
"¡Cuida de ella!" my mother asked Erik when I was already pushing him towards the elevator and he was laughing.
"I will!" he replied with a wink before the doors closed.
Finally, alone in the narrow elevator cubicle, I looked Erik in the eye with a mixture of amusement and reproach.
"I'm not going to marry you," I said firmly, trying to sound more confident than I really was.
Erik, far from being fazed, let out a laugh and adopted an innocent pose, raising his hands as if surrendering to a higher power.
"I haven't said anything," he replied with feigned innocence. "But you could if you wanted to."
A blush crept up my cheeks, and I couldn't help but smile at his audacity.
The idea of a future with Erik, a future full of laughter, complicity and, perhaps, something more, filled me with a sense of warmth and excitement. In that moment, I knew that, although I didn't say it out loud, the possibility of a 'yes' wasn't so far-fetched.