Page 38 of Fixed Up Ever After
Javi slid into the booth first and she sent out a silent prayer as he did. Javi was straight sized, but he was tall with big arms, so scooting down the leather seat had not been an easy feat. Lola felt her mother’s judgmental eyes as she slowly lowered herself down to the bench. It was humiliating having her mother watch her as she struggled to wiggle into the tight space. She accidentally hit the table with her elbow, nearly knocking down a wine glass.
Javi snatched his hand out with all the reflexes of Spider-Man and caught it before it crashed to the ground and broke into a million different pieces on the floor, saving her from the judging stares of the other patrons.
When she squeezed in enough, Javi offered her a smile and placed his hand on her thigh reassuringly. Her mother still wore the look of thinly veiled disgust and took this opportunity to not-so-subtly bring up the gym membership she researched the moment Lola told her she was moving. “Have you checked out the gym I sent you, dear? The one with the classes and personal trainers.”
Next to her, she felt Javi stiffen, but she clamped her hand around his to ease his temper. “I told you, Mother, I’m loving the yoga studio I go to and have no desire to go work out with a bunch of sweaty strangers. Especially there.”
“Oh, but Dolores, it would be so good for you. Don’t you want to be healthy?”
It always came back to health. When a fat person existed in a place for straight-sized people, everyone was a doctor. Thin didn’t equal healthy and she wished her mother understood that. She knew for a fact that she was in better shape than Mona and Mattea, even if they were both smaller than her. Yet, her mom would only see their size and think they were the epitome of health.
“I’m quite fine the way I am. But if my body insults you, maybe you should work on fixing your own biases when it comes to plus-sized individuals.” Outwardly she hoped she projected strength and badassery because inwardly she was freaking out that she even humored her mother in the conversation.
“Now ladies, enough fighting. Let’s discuss what we want as an appetizer. Personally, I don't think we can go wrong with a charcuterie board,” her father, ever the optimist, said. Lola loved him, she did, but he could be so dense at times. He never saw how her mother treated her and thought to himself that it was wrong. He tried to be a buffer, but she doubted he knew the root of the problem.
“I’m just saying it is something you should consider.” Her mother always had to have the last word. Before Lola could respond, Luciana’s face lit up and that only meant one thing. Dread nearly immobilized her body, but she forced herself to move.
She turned in time to see Marisol and Archie head their way. Marisol was in a knee-length red dress that hugged her body perfectly, no roll in sight. Archie wore his standard dark business casual, like he was prepared to go to an interview at any time. Even she had to admit they looked pretty together.
Marisol took one look at her sister, giving her a simple nod before heading over to their parent’s side of the table. The booth seat should have only been big enough for three people to fit comfortably across, but both Marisol and Archie slid in.
“What are we drinking?” Archie laughed good-naturedly. He was met by a chorus of chuckles as his father went into a deep analysis of every wine on the menu.
“Did you pick up my earrings, Dolores?” No hi, no how are you, just straight to the point. It was her sister to a T.
Lola searched through her silver clutch and pulled out the black velvet box and handed it over. Her sister inspected it, opened it up, and gasped. “Oh these are perfect! Archie, don’t you think these are perfect?”
Judging by his disinterested look and quick glance at the box, Lola didn’t think Archie gave a flying fuck. “Yes, very nice. What are they for?”
“The wedding, Archie. The whole reason we are here.” Marisol frowned.
“Right. Well, I’m sure they will compliment your dress.” He offered her a dazzling smile that might work for his clients, but not a fiancée. Lola felt the anger roll off her sister and, despite their personal problems, wanted to stand up for Marisol. Until Marisol took her ire out on her, the black sheep of the family.
“Dolores, you never showed me your jewelry for your dress. You know I hate those big hoops you wear. Please tell me you got something more sensible.”
The night had barely started and already Lola was tired. Between her mother’s hurtful jabs at her weight and Marisol’s misplaced anger, Lola knew she was in for a verbal beatdown. She just wished Javi wouldn’t have to witness these horrendous attacks.
CHAPTER24
Javi
From the way he gripped the table, Javi was surprised that the edge hadn’t snapped off in his hand. The only thing keeping him grounded was Lola’s hand atop his as he listened to her family demeaning her with every other sentence. How she simply sat there and took their jabs with as much grace and poise as she did, he would never know. Because all he saw and felt was red rage.
“So, Javi. What do you do for a living, son?” Travis’s gaze looked him over, sizing him up. Out of all the Robertses, he was so far the most tolerable. At least he seemed to love his daughter, though he was ignorant when it came to how his wife and other daughter treated her.
He had also been the only one to take an interest in Javi. Luciana stared in disapproval, as if she could smell the poverty on him. Not that he was at the poverty level, but compared to these people he might as well be. Marisol only glanced his way a few times but was otherwise occupied by Archie and her phone, which seemed to be an extension of her body.
“I work as an independent contractor,” he said, getting a nod of approval from Travis and a furrowed brow from Luciana.
“Ah, good work, indeed. Always a good sign when a man is good with his hands. Never a bad thing to put some grease on ya,” Travis tutted. It was clear the man had a very old-fashioned way of thinking, but it served in Javi’s favor this time. Not that he needed his approval or anything since he wasn’t technically dating his daughter, but it would make their time together more pleasant if Travis didn’t want to run him off.
“He’s the one I hired to help me renovate the bookstore, Daddy, remember?” Lola chimed in and he tried to ignore the lurch of his dick when Lola said the word “daddy.” Now was not the time to be sporting a major hard-on. “He has a few guys working now and when we get back my bookcases should be nearly finished. Isn’t that right, Javi?”
“If everything goes according to plan.” He made a mental note to check on his crew later. Just because he wasn’t working, didn’t mean the guys he hired to take charge of the built-ins weren't.
“The bookstore? What is this about a bookstore?” Marisol’s voice couldn’t sound more condescending if she tried. Her well-manicured fingers stopped flying across her phone long enough to catch the tail end of their conversations.
With more patience than her sister deserved, Lola explained the renovations taking place back home. He liked the way she spoke about his work, with admiration and happiness. His heart swelled in response, knowing she trusted him this much with her dream store.
