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If she thinks something’s up, she doesn’t show it.
“Ready when you are,” Ana says. “See you later Miss Jules.”
“See you soon. Thanks for your help again, Adriel.”
“I was happy to come.”
Jules coughs and her eyes bug out, then we both laugh in our private joke.
“Dad, your hat.”
I move back to the table, and Jules picks it up to hand over, but I lean forward for her to place it on me.
I wave once more and say, “I can come to help tomorrow, too.”
“I’d like that.”
I don’t know how I’ll keep myself occupied until then.
When we get home, I’m excited to see my parents in the kitchen.
“Adriel, Ana, come on in for dinner. I made tamales,” mamá says.
“Ana, go wash up and meet us in the dining room.”
“Okay, dad!”
We sit down for dinner and there’s three different kinds of enchiladas. Ever since we were kids my mom has gone out of her way to accommodate everyone’s different tastes. She’d start prepping hours before dinner to make sure everyone got what they wanted.
We’ve been different from birth. Always choosing different things, we chose vastly different careers too. After we settled with two careers on the ranch, and two of us off, it’s generally how we’ve squared off on arguments and meals too.
The only thing that always brought us together was building. I may be the main rancher now, but they’ve all got building in their bones.
When each of us turned eighteen, it was a rite of passage for us Santiago men to build our house on an acre of land nearby. Knowing I’d want to raise a family soon, I chose to build my house next to the main ranch so my kids could grow up near my parents. Javier, the veterinarian, chose some land upwind from the stables so he could be closer to the animals. Mateo built his cabin on our outlying property up the mountain. Luis chased his music career after high school, and we all watched him soar. He hasn’t built his home on the land yet. Maybe one day.
Just like when we were kids, we’ve each pursued our own paths and supported each other from a distance.
Seeing multiple tamales for dinner tonight reminds me of so many childhood meals. As different as we are, I miss them on nights like this.
“Mom, dad, my friend Jules gave me an idea for the ranch.”
“Jules from the holiday party? I really liked her. Could you two be more than friends?” Mom hints.
“Oh, they’re definitely more than friends,” Ana blurts out.
“What’s that mean?” I ask, a little nervous.
“I see the googly eyes you give her at the library.”
“Googly eyes, eh?” My dad asks.
“Oh yea, very googly papa,” Ana says, helping herself to another tamale. “I catch him looking at her when I check out my books. You need to ask her out dad.”
I wasn’t sure if she noticed, but I like that she’s encouraging me. That feels like a nudge in the right direction. As much as I’ve been falling for Jules, I wouldn’t feel totally comfortable dating someone that Ana wasn’t comfortable around. She volunteers with her at the library, but she hasn’t mentioned anything in the last week, so this is like a boost to my heart.
“You like her, Ana?” Dad asks her.
She nods, and he says, “Then I like her too.” Ana gets up to kiss him on the cheek and asks to be excused to do her homework.
