Page 21 of Tastes Like Summer

My breath catches, and I clear my throat before rolling my eyes as if somehow that didn’t affect me. “But you just need to understand that kids can be as picky—if not more so—as adults.”

“It was freaking coleslaw,” he grumbles.

“These kid’s palates are far more demanding than your former customers,” I say between giggles. Giggles?? But I can’t help but find the situation funny. And Michael’s frustration is a little adorable. “You can’t really hold it against him too much.”

“The food I made is perfection, and far better than anything I ever ate at his age. I’m telling you, I grew up on Rice Krispies treats and microwavable meals and did just fucking fine.”

“That’s a bad word, mister,” a little girl says, looking up at him with wide eyes.

He sighs and looks down at her. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Here. Have an extra cookie as an apology.” Michael places a piece of chicken and a scoop of coleslaw onto her plate, but drops two cookies right beside them.

The little girl grins from ear to ear. “Whoa, cool! Thanks!”

“See?” He points at her retreating form as she makes her way to sit with her friends at another table. “That’s the kind of excitement I’m looking for! That’s the kind of reaction I’m used to getting for my food.”

“The cookies are for later! And aren’t they store bought?”

He glares at me, and I stifle a laugh. I bite my lower lip to keep from smiling too much, my cheeks already sore from an afternoon spent joking around with him. How did we get from not being able to stand each other to having the best time I’ve had in a while? I mean, we’ve been standing under the sweltering sun for a couple of hours, serving food to campers, parents, and counselors, all while battling an unreasonable amount of picky eaters, yet I’ve been having a good time.

“You just need to realize that kids are not fine diners.”

Michael sighs. “One of my current struggles in life. My daughter prefers dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets to my Cajun chicken with a beurre blanc sauce.”

I laugh. “Dino nuggets are a classic staple in any home with children.” And some adults, I think. “And I bet you save a ton of time cooking them. Can’t beat an air fryer.”

He grunts in acknowledgment.

“How’re things going by the way? With Rachel, I mean?”

He smiles at the vegan and gluten-free mac ’n cheese he slaps on another girl’s plate before telling her to enjoy her food. “Good. Better. We had a great day last Saturday. I took her to this summer fair a few towns over. They had a petting zoo and a bunch of other activities. She whined that it was for little kids, but I could tell she was having fun.” His eyes take on a far-off glance, as he remembers the outing with fondness.

I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face.

“That’s amazing. I’m sure she was happier about spending quality time with you than the actual fair, though.”

Michael shoots me a bashful smile. “I hope so. We used to be buds, you know? Before her mom… Whenever I’d come into town, I was fun Uncle Michael. And now the dynamic is so different… For a moment there, I thought she cared less for me. Was too angry at me for lying. But considering everything, I think she’s taken it like a champ. We’ve both come so far, but things could have been much, much worse.” His head shakes in awe. “She is truly incredible.”

I smile widely at him. I barely know Michael and Rachel, but hearing about how they’ve healed their relationship makes me so happy for them—even though it sends a slight pang of jealousy through me. I wish my girls had a father like that. One who made a conscious effort to improve their relationship. Rodrigo might be an absolute ass who made me question every single life choice I’ve ever made, but I still want him to be there for our girls. I don’t want them to ever feel unloved by him or like this divorce was in any way their fault. And yet, Rodrigo has only grown more cavalier with his daughters. While Michael…

“I’m sorry, by the way,” I tell him, reaching for another kid’s plate.

When he turns to face me, it’s with a raised brow and pointing tongs in my direction. “Didn’t we already do this? Don’t get me wrong, hearing you apologize is amazing. I feel like it’s slowly starting to become my new kink.” His cheeks flush, and so do mine. What was that? We both choose to ignore it, clearly, because he keeps going: “But… You don’t have to do this for a third time.”

I nod, scooping some more food onto another kid’s place. “The first time was barely an apology. It only led to a truce. The second one was more genuine because I felt bad for how things were between us when our girls seem to love each other so much. And I think you deserve this third one because it’s specific. I need to apologize for putting you on the same level as my ex.”

He winces and gets back to his task, muttering a You’re welcome to those who thank him for the food. “Yeah.”

“I guess it did anger me a bit to hear that you chose to… not abandon Rachel, exactly, but maybe chose to not…” I pick my words wisely. “Well, choose her, I guess. Does that make sense?”

He flinches, keeping his eyes on the food trays in front of him.

“I think part of me wasn’t willing to understand where you were coming from. And while I still believe it was… not a great thing to do.” I grimace, wording things to the best of my ability. “I can admit I shouldn’t make any judgments considering I don’t know what the circumstances were. And I can’t deny that you aren’t doing your best to change things now. To make up for lost time and own up to your responsibilities. And that’s better than never doing so.” Like some people I know, I almost add.

Michael takes a deep breath before facing me head on, leaving an eager child lifting his plate up for food in Dickensian fashion. “Diana. You should know that⁠—”

“Mami, do you have my lunch?” Emiliana pops up beside me, followed by her sister and Rachel.

I immediately crouch in front of her. “Sweetheart, have you been drinking water? I’ve told you that you have to stay hydrated in the sun.” God, I can’t believe I haven’t checked her glucose levels in the past hour. My stomach rolls, guilt flooding my system as I pull out my phone and open the app.