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I laughed. “Of course,mijo,” I said. Manny and I had grown quite close over the last few months. Despite my pushing, he refused to go back to school. We settled for him completing all of his homeschool work before he was allowed to do anything resembling training. So far, Angel was training Manny as my security to replace David. It wasn’t as exciting as being on the front lines, as it was, but everyone breathed a little easier with Manny being as far from potential violence as he could get. “You know I’d make you arepas any day of the week if you reenrolled in school.”
Manny rolled his eyes. “No thanks,” he said. “I’ll wait for special occasions… or when you get a pregnancy craving like last time.”
I smacked his arm, over the scar from his bullet graze. “Hush you,” I said. “Pregnancy cravings don’t last forever.”
“Shame,” he said and sealed the edges of the arepa in his hand. It was more of a ball than anything. How much cheese had he stuffed into the dough? “Looks good, huh?” he said.
I nodded, indulgent. “Sure. That one isdefinitelyyours.” I checked the time. Everything was nearly ready. “Go get the water glasses set out for me?”
Manny pouted. “It’smybirthday though.”
“Manuel.” We turned, and Angel stood in the doorway. My heart fluttered, and the little squirming in my belly let me know that the baby had felt it too. “Go make yourself useful.”
The teenager whined but did as he was told, taking the tray of glasses with him. “You don’t think he’s going to drop them, do you?” I asked, looking at my husband.
Angel shook his head. A soft smile — the one that he saved for only me — curved his lips. “If he’s not coordinated enough to balance a tray, he has no business learning how to handle weapons with Omar.”
“Such a taskmaster,” I tsked, putting Manny’s mutated arepa in the pan to brown. I felt more than saw Angel as he came close to me; his presence was a comforting weight that I seemed to feel whenever he was in the same room as me.
Angel wrapped his arms around me; his hands cupped my baby bump, lifting it gently. I groaned as the weight was taken off my pelvis for a moment. “Feel good?” he asked.
I rested my head on his shoulder. “Gracias, my love.”
He hummed in my ear. “How’s baby?” he asked.
I felt another little flutter, and I moved his hand to see if he could feel it. So far, the baby had been a little elusive about who could feel the little kicks and squirms. “Say something,” I said.
“How are you, baby?” There was a soft jab, and Angel made an absolutely pleased sound. “He likes my voice,” he bragged.
“Or she,” I corrected. We had the anatomy scan next week, and everyone was making bets on what the new Castillo would be. Lili and I were firmly in the ‘girl’ category, and I suspected that Angel was as well, but his pride kept him from saying it.
“We will see,” Angel murmured against my ear, and I shivered as his lips nipped gently at my earlobe.
I flipped the massive arepa over, thrilled to see the golden brown color. I wasn’t sure it was going to cook correctly as large as it was. “Look at this thing,” I said.
Angel snorted. “You indulge him.”
“So do you,” I shot back.
He couldn’t argue with me about that: we both had a soft spot for the boy, and I know I personally liked to spoil him when I could. If only to remind him that he was still a boy for a little while longer.
When the last arepa came off the stove, I stretched and groaned, trying to pop my spine. “Are you all right,mi esposa?”
I glanced at Angel, who was already gathering the plates of food without my having to ask; I couldn’t stop the smile. “We’re doing fine, Angel,” I assured him. He had been overly protective since taking over, and as much as I loved it, he could be a little…much at times.
“I don’t want you overtaxing yourself,” Angel said, not for the first time.
I shook my head. “Cooking isn’t taxing,” I said and picked up one of the arepas and held it out for him. “Try it?” I put my finger to my lips. “But don’t tell Manny; it’ll hurt his feelings.”
Angel took a bite, and he groaned happily. “Did you use my mother’s recipe? It tastes just like hers.”
I patted the tin box that had become a permanent fixture in the kitchen. Lara had nearly cried when she saw it, and the hug she’d given me nearly cracked my ribs. “Of course,” I said.
Angel leaned over and pecked my cheek. “You’re the best.”
“I better be,” I teased.
The dining room was filled with the Castillo family, all of the cousins and tias and tios. The room was filled with laughter and talking, and it filled me with joy the moment I walked in. Was it perfect? Absolutely not. Almost every person here was dangerous and violent; they’d done unspeakable things in the name of their family.
