Page 59 of Crack the Ice

“No, I went to the bathroom and didn’t come back.”

“That’s my girl,” he says before pulling my mom away to dance. “Come on, Cecy, join us!” He spins my mom around and holds out his other hand for me.

I shake my head and nod toward the kitchen. “I’m going to go see what I can make with whatever you have in the pantry.”

“Of course you are, cariño,”⁠* my mom says, placing a kiss on my cheek before my dad pulls her back into him. I love getting to watch them be in love. I want to be like them when I grow up.

I’m in the kitchen making Palmeras when the door chime beeps to let me know it’s been opened. My mom’s head snaps to the entryway. “¿Markus, eres tú?”⁠*

I know it’s not, but I’ll let her be surprised. It’s not long before a little girl with long blonde hair rounds the corner. “Hi, I’m Lily. I’m your new grandkid,” she sings, holding out her hand to my mom.

Ay mi madre. My mom’s eyes widen, and my dad’s head snaps to Mav over her shoulder. My forehead meets my palm. Literally anything other than that would have been preferable.

“Cecilia Samuels, tienes algunas explicaciones que hacer,”⁠* my mom hisses.

I sigh, turning to wash the flour remnants off my hands. “Necesito que seas amable con ellos.”⁠*

My mom gasps a gasp that honestly could have landed her a role on a telenovela. Lily’s hand is still extended, and I raise my eyebrow, tilting my chin toward it. That seems to snap my mom into action because she ignores the hand completely and wraps her arms around Lily’s shoulders.

“Why am I just now finding out I have grandkids? They don’t even look like you.”

“Mamá, por favor,” I whine. “This is Cade and Lily. Mav is their legal guardian. They lost their mom last year.”

She curses under her breath. “Hi Maverick,” she says, pulling him into her. “I finally have proof of life. I miss seeing you around.”

His deep chuckle rumbles through him as his arms come around my mom’s shoulders. The view almost brings tears to my eyes. It should have always been this way. He should have always been around. “You too, Mrs. Samuels.”

“Aye, Maverick,” she chastises. “It’s Selina. I don’t know how many times I’ve told you that.”

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry.” He pulls away, immediately clasping hands with my dad and pulling him in for one of those bro hugs, where they pat each other’s backs before pulling away. He looks so good here, with them, with me.

I clear my throat. Now’s not the time for that kind of thinking, Cecy. This is about showing these kids love exists and lasts.

“Lily here had a question,” I say with a smile, holding my hand out for Lily to take. “She’s starting to wonder if true love is worth it, considering they lost both parents, and she’s afraid that in the future, she and her kids might suffer the same fate.”

“Dios mio!” My mom cries. “No, my love.” She bends down, taking Lily’s other hand. “Love, when it’s real, is always worth it. Even if you know they’ll leave you too soon, or if your kids will suffer after they leave, because to know love, true love, is life’s greatest joy. It’s the very essence of which everything else flows.”

“Come,” she says, pulling her away from me toward the couch. My dad follows, leaving Mav, Cade, and me alone in the kitchen.

I look down at my unfinished Palmeras before looking back at Cade, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Do you want to help me finish these? I’m almost positive they’re going to show her old videos of when we were kids in Spain. And their wedding, and a bunch of other stuff that could have been made into a romance movie.”

His nose wrinkles over the bridge and I bite down on my lip to keep from smiling.

“Gross,” he says, making his way to the other side of the island where I stand.

“Little Cecy on video?” Mav says, wiggling his eyebrows. “This I gotta see.”

I give him my obligatory eye roll, but my chest warms all the same. “Get to steppin then,” I say, nodding toward the living room where my mom already has the first video loaded.

“Mamá!” My little voice comes through the TV. “Markus me quitó la cabeza a mi muñeca.”⁠* The tears start to flow seconds later. My dad’s muttered curse can be heard from here as my mom scoops me up and holds my headless doll in her hands.

I bite down on my lip, trying not to cry now. That doll is still at my house. I’d sit in the backyard with it on the deck, a reminder of what I’d lost.

For the year I was in Spain, that deck was my whole world. Just me, a plastic doll, and a chest so tight that I’d forgotten how it felt to take a full breath. For so long, I told myself sitting in my grief alone was a requirement. Like if I started to live again, it meant turning a blind eye to the life I let go of.

I let myself believe I was too damaged, permanently scarred, with a brain that didn’t know how to regulate itself half the time to ever be a part of something that made me feel whole again.

But there’s no room for that grief in this house. The air smells like vanilla and sugar. Through the open archway, sounds of Markus and me continue to filter in. The crackling audio of old home videos pulls at a thread in my heart, one that says I could be making my own with Cade and Lily.