“Cleo, my baby! Is this the boy you spoke to me about?” She asks loudly as she pulls me into a tight hug before doing the same to Blake. Her familiar scent of lavender and citrus lingers against my skin and I instantly feel at ease as we step into the house, ignoring my dad’s mugging glare.
I’m immediately greeted with the smell of fresh pastelitos, chicken, and Gloria’s famous black beans and rice. Also known as my favorite meal curated at the hands of Gloria Jones. Having a Black father and Dominican stepmom means that dinner is always excellent in our house, and I’ve been saving my appetite since this morning for whatever my parents cooked tonight.
“Yeah, Glori, this is Blake.” I smile down at her as she gasps.
“Wait… Blake? Like Blake Wilder? Oh, the girls in my book club are going to have a field day with this! Can I take a picture with you, honey?” she asks practically gushing over him as my dad’s frown deepens.
Blake on the other hand, instantly perks up, stepping up to my stepmom to take a photo.
“You better step back, son,” Dad warns, still trying to do his macho man routine.
Blake visibly gulps at his commanding tone but looks back and forth between Gloria and my dad. Gloria waves off the scary man at her shoulder as she pulls out her phone snapping a photo of her and Blake.
“Don’t mind him, honey. Clef, you aren’t fooling anyone with that act, now come help me with the pastelitos. I just got a new manicure and can’t have the grease touch my polish.” Gloria tsks, walking off towards the kitchen.
“Coming, honey.” My dad frowns following behind.
They are the true embodiment of ‘walk him like a dog’. Whatever Gloria says, goes, and it’s been like that forever.
“I like her.” Blake chuckles, much more relaxed as he follows me into the dining room area where Ryan’s already seated in his usual spot. I opt for the seat across from him just so Blake can sit beside me, and then I place my phone down before going to wash my hands. Blake does the same before taking a seat beside me.
We’re deep into eating without a peep from anyone until Dad decides to open his mouth in the most rude, yet funniest, way.
“Why is Blake in my house, Cleo?” He asks, not missing a beat as he plops a spoonful of rice and beans into his mouth.
I nearly choke on my food at his forwardness and Blake stills momentarily beside me. “Gloria said I can bring afriend,” I say through a mouthful of pastelitos.
“You and Blake aren’t just friends though, sis.” Ryan eggs on adding to the mix, I drop my half-eaten fried meat and dough on my plate as I look up at the smug bastard.
“And you and Denver aren’t just friends, either, right?” I ask, tilting my head as Gloria gasps and Blake chokes on his rice.
“Denver!? Who is this Denver and why haven't I heard of her yet, Julio?” Gloria asks, her jaw dropped as she eyes her son suspiciously.
Ryan mouths an obscenity at me as I discreetly flip him off. Serves him right to air out my business.
“She’s my cousin!”
“She’s myfriend.”
Both Blake and Ryan speak at the same time, the both of them eyeing one another down. The two men share an unspoken agreement with one another, each of their eyes widening momentarily before falling onto Gloria in a relaxed manner.
Gloria glares at her son but turns on a sweet smile for Blake as she looks over at him. After that, dinner runs smoothly for the most part with Gloria makingconversation with Blake and me, Dad glaring holes into the side of Blake’s head, and Ryan laughing at it all.
“C’mon, Clef help me wash the dishes.” Gloria smiles warmly at my father as she begins gathering all the plates from the table.
“I can help! It’s only fair—” Blake tries but Gloria just waves him off.
“Nonsense, you’re a guest and Clef’s been glaring at you this entire time. Besides, I’m sure Cleo and Ry would like nothing more than to get out of doing the dishes.” She chuckles, hauling Dad into the kitchen.
Blake nods as the older couple enters the kitchen and almost instantly visibly relaxes.
“I didn’t think you’d last more than five minutes with them.” Ryan cackles from in front of us as Blake sighs, agreeing.
“It wasn’t that bad.” I frown at my brother, throwing an ice cube at him from my empty cup.
He grimaces as it hits him square in the cheek and cringes as he wipes away the water it left behind.
“Clef was about to stare the poor kid into a coma.” Ry chuckles.
