Family Flores; complicada
Starter @santiagoxflores
Where: Flores estate, Ashmore
With the town wide curfew, most of the fabulous parties hosted at the Flores estate had been cancelled, or rescheduled for another time, a better time. Family dinners, however, barbeques, even brunches were a non-negotiable, and Adelita was grateful for the multitude of rooms and space that the estate held. Every day, there were at least two Flores family members wandering around the estate or spending the house. The home had always been open to kin. Adelita was the High Priestess of the coven and lived at the estate, but she did now own it. The estate belonged to her parents and would be passed onto their her, when they passed, or become incapacitated. Her parents ran the home as Adelita’s grandparents before them, and their grandparents before them. It was always run the same, home to all Flores kin. In a way, Adelita liked it, she liked the tradition of it, but at times... as a woman almost in her forties, it could be... difficult, living in such close quarters with family who could come and go as they please, while she always remained.
Adelita’s mother had thrown together an impromptu barbeque party, and had given her daughter the kind of look that told Adelita attendance was mandatory. Upon arrival though, Adelita noted that not many family had been able to make it, and in fact it was a very intimate get together.
The Priestess greeted her parents first, her mother was looming over the staff who were grilling their food, while her father sat by the pool with her uncles drinking and smoking. Then Adelita went to sit on a marble bench, overlooking the sprawling grounds, and was immediately served a glass of her favourite tequila by one of the staff. Her family had clustered into various small groups, and she watched them all socialise. They all appeared so care free and jovial, smiling and laughing. She didn’t feel excluded, only removed somehow. It occurred to the witch that it had been a while since she had indulged in some genuinely carefree, jovial social interactions. Did she even know how to?
A heavy sigh left Adelita’s lips, just as her mother decided to pass by her and she frowned at her daughter.
“Mija, Que pasa?” The question was not asked in a way that invited Adelita to open up, instead it felt like a reminder to behave. Adelita sat up in response and smiled her perfectly at ease public smile. “Better!” was the response she got.
“Bruja!” Adelita muttered through smiling, gritted teeth as her mother hurried past her to insist on helping the waiters carry their loads. The relationship with her mother was complicated, but it was loving. Or at least, it appeared so. Sometimes.
