Because you just met me? Because I’m a terrible cook? Because no one said anything about Christmas?
“Oh—Oh,” I stammer. “You’re all so kind…”
“I think it’s a great idea,” Nezzie says, smiling.
I give Mattie a quick glance. She looks as surprised as I must, but she’s smiling too. Clearly, the idea of spending Christmas here sounds good to her.
Christmas.
Heaven help me.If the thought of how we’d get through Thanksgiving daunted me, Christmas is way, way beyond scary. If Mom were here, she’d start decorating tomorrow. By Saturday, we’d have a tree.
Oh God. I need to get busy.
If this is really an invitation, maybe I should just accept. We’ve made it through the day without disaster. And it’s been pretty fun. More fun than I thought the first Thanksgiving without Mom and Dad could have been. Of course, I’ll have to talk to the boys. And Luc.
Christmas is a whole month from now. He might be totally sick of us by then.
I blow out a breath. “Thank you.” I look around the table. All the women in Luc’s family are watching me, near identical soft smiles on their faces. “We’re so glad to be here today. I-I never would have expected—”
Nezzie covers my hand with hers. “Luc is very fond of you. All of you,” she says. “What makes him happy makes me happy.”
With those words, it hits me. Maybe Luc’s family isn’t being so nice because they feel sorry for us. Maybe it’s simply because we are Luc’s guests.
My heart swells a little at that thought.
Luc’s grandmother—I don’t even know her name; everyone just calls herAbuela—reaches across Luc’s empty chair and takes my other hand. Her joints are knobby with arthritis, but her grip is still strong.
“Él es un buen chico. Luca tiene un buen corazón,”she says.
A little panicked, I hold her gaze and then look around the table. “I’m sorry,” I say in a hushed voice. “I don’t speak Spanish.”
The other women start to answer, but Mattie pipes up. “She said, ‘Luc’s a good boy,’” she says, giggling. “And ‘he has a good heart.’”
“Oh,” I gasp, nodding. “Yes… He is a very good man.” I’m not about to call him a boy. He’s a man. But she’s right. He’s a really good one. For a moment, I’d like to tell her everything he’s done for me—for us—but I don’t have the words, and one look at Luc’s cousins, and I think better of it. They really like teasing him.
Before I can say anything else, Alex pokes his head back into the dining room, eyes on Mattie. “We’re going outside to kick the soccer ball around. Wanna come?”
Mattie pushes her chair back so fast I’m afraid it’ll clatter to the ground. She catches it in time and looks back at me and Nezzie, blushing. “Please excuse me.”
And before I can reply, before she can even catch the concern on my face, she’s gone.
She can’t get pregnant playing soccer in the back yard,I reason. Even though I know that’s true, I can’t help the clenching in my stomach at the thought of Mattie dating.
Luc’s grandmother pats me on the hand again.“Alejandro es un buen chico tambien.”
This time, I don’t need the translation. I put on a smile. “I’m sure he is,” I say. But I’ve met fourteen-year-old boys. They want the same things sixteen and twenty and twenty-four-year-old boys want.
The real trouble is the girls want it too.
The truth of this becomes painfully obvious when Luc walks back in, drying his hands on a dishtowel. I’ve never before thought dishtowels were sexy, but, holy cow, watching it twist and strain under his dark hands has me picturing him gripping the bed sheets.
He smiles at me over the heads of his cousins still at the table. “Wanna go outside and watch the kids?”
Is he reading my mind? I rise from the table. “Let me just get my jacket.”
The air is crisp, but it’s not as bitterly cold as it has been the last few days. The custom-made touches I noticed inside the Valencia’s home spill outdoors too. A covered patio with stone tile flooring is semi-enclosed by an outdoor kitchen with a fireplace, sink, and grill with lots of granite counter space. The lawn is deep, and the big kids have plenty of room to kick the soccer ball, while the little ones play on a netted trampoline in the back corner.
Luc leads me to a cushioned patio sofa, and I nearly collapse into it.
