“We’re going on the trampoline,” Isaac shouts as he bangs into the screen door by means of opening it. The younger ones careen after him.
Mami turns to Emmett. “Would you like to go too?”
It’s written all over his face that he does. He’s older than the little ones. I wasn’t sure if playing with them would clash with his motto of not being a baby, but he seems more than eager. He nods and looks to Millie for permission.
“Go on. Just be careful,” she says. Before she can say anything else, he’s out the door, tearing after the others.
Alex sweeps in from the living room. “Hey,” he says in greeting. “Are the appetizers out yet?”
Both Harry and Mattie eye him as though he’s the Holy Grail. Harry because he’s asking about food. Mattie because he’s Alex.
Mami moves around the island. “Come here, you three.” They obey as one body, and she points out bowls and platters. “Take the guac, salsa, chips, and veggies out to the coffee table. Don’t spoil your appetites, okay?”
Alex takes over, handing the bowl of guacamole to Mattie, the plate of veggies to Harry, and taking the salsa and chips. “C’mon,” he says, and the three of them are gone.
Millie blinks after them, worry in the corners of her eyes. She steps closer to me and drops her voice for my ears only. “Do you think—”
“They’re fine.”
Her eyes narrow now in annoyance. “You don’t even know what I was going to ask,” she hisses.
I arch a brow. Her eyes follow the movement, and for a half an instant, she just stares. I realize it’s the brow the goalie from St. Thomas More split with his class ring. That was sophomore year—after I got past him in the state quarterfinals and helped the Lions advance to the semis.
Millie is checking out my scar. How about that.
“Yes, I do.” I keep my voice low. “Mattie’s fine. Alex isn’t going to seduce her.”
Horror rounds her eyes. She sneaks a peek at Mami before glaring back at me. “Shh! I don’t want to offend your mom. She’s nice.”
My grin is wry. “We’re all nice,Doña Angustias.”
She scowls. “Calling me names I can’t understand is not nice,coquin.”
I chuckle under my breath. “What? Is that French?”
She nods with mock menace. “Uh huh. Doesn’t feel too great, does it?”
I laugh outright. Because she’s funny as hell. And because she’s wrong. It feels amazing. Laughing with her. Being with her. It’s the best. But I put my hands up in surrender.
“Okay. Okay.Doña Angustiasis like a worry wart.” I nod toward the living room. “The kids are there with my dad, my uncle, and my grandmother. We can go in with them, but I don’t think they’re short on chaperones.”
Millie exhales through her nose. It sounds like she’s still worried, but she can’t really argue against three chaperones.
“Millie, would you like a margarita?” Felicité asks, holding up a pitcher.
With a look of what must be real regret, Millie shakes her head. “I’m on antibiotics,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “I wish I could.”
The women in my family all burst into choruses of sympathy, offering her everything from guava juice to soda to iced tea. All the fuss makes her turn a pretty shade of pink.
I lean over and whisper in her ear, “If you just let them put something in a cup, they’ll leave you alone.”
“Tea would be great.”
But I make matters worse when I pour it for her, and all—all—of my cousins tease and cat call me in two languages.
Luca tiene una novia.
Look at what good manners.
