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Knocking as he opened Rosie’s front door, Luke called. “Anyone home?”
A chorus of greetings welcomed us.
The tantalizing aroma of homemade tamales filled my nostrils as I followed him inside.
Two dozen or more people lounged on sofas, easy chairs, and folding chairs, apparently added for the gathering.
After growing up with no family but my grandmother, I smiled at the friendly faces, eager to meet my cousins.
“Come in. Come in.” Rosie bustled toward us, hugging me. “I’m so glad you could come. Make yourselves at home.” Rushing off, she called over her shoulder. “Lucas, introduce Maeve to the family. I have to check on the barbacoa.”
More people passed through the living room on their way to a buffet table laden with tortilla chips, salsa, salsa verde, and pico de gallo.
A mustachioed man standing by a frozen margarita machine held up a full pitcher of lime-green slush. “Luke, would you and your friend like a margarita?”
Luke’s raised brow an unvoiced question, he turned toward me.
I grinned. “Why not?”
Leading me by the hand, he squeezed between the clusters of people toward the bartender. “This is Ricky, Rosie’s husband, and this is Maeve, your second cousin once removed.”
“Welcome.” A salt-rimmed glass in each hand, Ricky gave me a partial hug before handing over our drinks. As another couple queued behind us, he patted Luke’s shoulder. “Make sure you introduce Maeve around.” Then turning to the next duo, he dispensed two more frozen margaritas.
I chuckled, impressed by the man’s friendly efficiency.
“Want some chips and salsa?” Luke gestured toward the other end of the buffet table with his chin.
“Sure.” I stepped toward the fresh bowls of pico, salsa, and thick tortilla chips. “Are these homemade?”
“Aunt Rosie makes everything from scratch.”
“Must be where you inherited your kitchen skills.” Bumped from behind, I slopped my drink.
“Sorry!” A chubby tween pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“No harm done.” I pulled a packet of tissues from my pocket, and the dime slipped out with it, rolling beneath the buffet table. Groaning, I wiped my sticky glass.
“I’ll get it.” The youngster crawled under the table to retrieve the coin and handed it back. “Here you go.”
Reflecting the overhead lights, the dime flashed in my hand.
“You know what they say.” The woman behind me spoke in a sing-song voice. “Dimes appear when angels are near.”
“Could I see that coin again?” The boy pushed up his glasses.
“Sure.”
“This is a 1919-D Mercury dime.” His eyes opening wide, he pulled out his phone and scrolled to an app. “Whoa!”
“What?” Unsure what to think, I shared a blank look with Luke.
“You hit the jackpot. This dime could be worth up to twenty-five thousand dollars.”
“Right…” Unconvinced, I squinted.
“See for yourself.” He held out his phone as he returned the coin.
