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She didn’t recognize me as Alana Montoya though, but as Alana Carmichael, and that gave me a sense of pride like I couldn’t describe.
For a moment, I felt like me again. I’d promised I’d do everything I could to help and she had given me the warmest hug I’d had in months.
I smiled to myself as I walked through the house to the kitchen to see Magda busy near the stove.
‘Oh, Mrs. Montoya, I’m so glad you’re home,’ she said as she wiped her hands on her apron.
‘Magda, would you please call me Alana?’ I asked her for what I thought must be the hundredth time since I’d first walked into this house. ‘Mrs. Montoya makes me feel really old.’
She gave a slight grimace but then she nodded. ‘Alana,’ she said with a half-smile.
‘Thank you.’
She cleared her throat. ‘Mr. Montoya will be home for dinner-'
‘Really?’ I interrupted her. He hadn’t been home for dinner in the almost three weeks we’d been married so far.
‘Yes. So, what shall I cook? What is your favorite dish?’
I shrugged. ‘Whatever he likes is fine by me.’
She smiled at me. ‘But he has instructed me to cook your favorite meal. So?’
‘I don’t think he’ll appreciate my tastes,’ I replied with a laugh.
She held out her hands. ‘That may be, but those are my orders.’
I chewed on my bottom lip. I supposed I could pretend that my favorite dish was something exotic and cultured. Or, I could just go with the truth? ‘Okay then. My favorite meal is a bacon cheeseburger and fries.’
Madga blinked at me and I wondered if she had ever made that meal before in her life.
‘I can cook if you’d like though? I like cooking,’ I said with a shrug.
‘No,’ she shook her head. ‘There is no dish that Magda Hernandez cannot cook,’ she said as she patted her chest with pride. ‘You need to go and clean up for dinner. It will be ready at eight.’
‘If you’re sure?’
‘I’m sure. Now go. Out of my kitchen,’ she said, swatting her hand in my direction.
I didn’t know what came over me, but perhaps it was my happiness at finally feeling like I might have something to do in this city. Or perhaps Kristen’s earlier embrace had melted the wall of ice I’d built around myself these past few weeks, but I ran over to Magda instead and gave her a huge hug.
She remained as stiff as a board and I wondered if I had crossed a line. Magda and I had become closer in these past three weeks. She was the only person I really spoke to and I didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.
But just as I was about to pull back, she placed her hand on my back and patted me gently.
‘Dulce niña,’ she said. I didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded nice and when I looked at her face she was smiling.
ALEJANDRO
It was just before eight when I arrived home — just in time for dinner. I made my way to the dining room and wondered if I was going to regret my decision to eat dinner with my new wife, and whether I would regret even more allowing her to choose the meal.
I imagined some pretentious dish sitting on my plate when I got into the room.
Oh, fuck, what if she was a vegan? I had no clue if she was into that. It seemed a new fashionable lifestyle choice. Not that I had anything against vegans, but I was a carnivore and a meal wasn’t a meal in my opinion, unless it contained meat.
I walked into the dining room and Alana was already seated. She looked different. Her cheeks were glowing and I realized it was because she was smiling. She wasn’t smiling at me, she hadn’t even noticed me walk into the room. She was just sitting there — smiling to herself.
Maybe her lunch had gone well?
