Page 72 of One Last Thing Before You Go

“Yeah. Bonnie, right? Good to see you again. And you, too,” he says with a smile, nodding to my brother. “Alejandro?”

Ale grunts but manages to at least nod once.

“I didn’t know you were coming to jueves familiar.” She says it with a strong American accent, but at least she tries.

“What is jueves familiar?” Knox asks, though his comes out perfect. I think we all take a step back, surprised by it. “I mean, I know it means Family Thursday, but, like, what do you mean by it?”

“You speak Spanish?” I ask, jaw still a little slack-jawed.

“You didn’t know he spoke Spanish?” Alejandro bites back, raising a brow. As if this delegitimized my knowledge of who Knox is as a person. And, well, maybe he’s right. There’s still a lot to learn.

Knox laughs softly. “Yeah, I picked some of it up while traveling through South America.”

“Well, jueves familiar is I guess a Veracruz tradition? It used to be domingo familiar when Lottie and Alejandro’s parents were still alive. I guess in Barranquilla their parents always had family barbecues or lunches on Sundays without fail. It was a way to get everyone to clear their busy schedules and make time for family at least once a week. But after they passed, and everyone started having kids—” Bonnie glances furtively at me. “Well, almost everyone— Sundays became about homework and rest, and we decided to move it to Thursdays.” Bonnie shrugs, smiling down at Knox. “It’s part of their heritage and it’s a nice way to make sure we never lose touch with each other.”

“That sounds kind of great.” He grins. “I never had anything like that growing up.”

And how could he have, with a single mother and no extended family until his estranged father showed up out of nowhere only to disappear again a few years later? Jeez, sometimes I forget how lucky I am in that respect. I have my family. I had parents who loved me and were there for me until the day they died. And not everyone gets that.

I stare at the side of his face, a pang in my chest, as I think of how lonely it must’ve been for him growing up. Because for all my complaining about my siblings I wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.

“Meh. I could live without it. Most of the time they’re just fishing for gossip,” I joke, shooting my older brother a look to lighten the mood.

“So, wait, if you don’t know about tonight’s dinner, does that mean she didn’t bring you here tonight for it? Were you guys just… going over to Lottie’s place?” A wide grin spreads across Bonnie’s face as realization dawns. I roll my eyes behind Knox’s back because I know

I’m going to have to answer some questions now. What did I do to deserve such a nosy family? Having a faulty reproductive system wasn’t enough?

Shit.

“Uh, no. I’ve been so distracted with work—” i.e. sex with Knox “—that I kind of forgot about tonight, to be honest.”

Bonnie takes Cindy from my brother’s arms and smirks at me before looking back at

Knox. “Well, now that you’re here you have to stay and have dinner with us.”

I panic. “Oh, no, I don’t think⁠—”

“I’d love to. Thank you!”

“Bonnie,” Ale whispers. “Do you really⁠—”

“Oh, stop. It’ll be fun!”

“Absolutely. I’m looking forward to it. I think I still have a couple of members of Lottie’s family to meet yet.” Knox smiles, genuinely excited at the opportunity.

I balk “I… But…” I shake my head, trying to come up with excuses to keep him from intertwining more with my life. It will only be so much harder to untangle him from it when the time comes.

“We have peach cobbler. Homemade,” Bonnie pipes in.

“Peach cobbler? I love peach cobbler,” he says, his lopsided grin weakening my ire. Dammit. “And I haven’t had a home cooked meal in… I don’t know. The last time I visited my mother? Like a year ago?”

Bonnie tsks and shakes her head, taking Knox by the hand to pull him to the main house. “Unacceptable. Both the fact that you haven’t visited your mother in over a year and haven’t had a homecooked meal since.”

“Do sandwiches count? Because I can make a mean turkey sandwich.”

I open my mouth to object one final time, but it’s too late. They’ve already crossed through the threshold, leaving me and Ale out alone on the porch.

“Jesus,” he mutters. “Come on, let’s get in. It’s cold out.” But I’m at a perfect temperature, protected by Knox’s jacket.