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“It’s nothing,” Mom says.
The Arctic air suddenly blowing throughout the house suggests otherwise.
Dad claps. “Dulce frío is best enjoyed when it’s straight out of the fridge. It’s not nearly as good at room temperature.”
I take that as my cue to serve my family.
As the tension dissipates, we enjoyed the dessert.
“Sofia, you went all out for this dinner,” Mom says, pushing her plate to the middle of a table before reaching out for my father’s and stacking it on top of hers. She does the same for Ciara’s and mine.
“I bought the food. Dessert was easy. I also prepared dulce de leche en tabla for later.”
“Love fudge squares!” Ciara says.
“You’re selling yourself short,” Mom says. “You’re better at desserts than I am.”
All of my mom’s creative energy has been poured into her love of sewing. There’s very little left for the kitchen.
“My skills can’t rival this one’s,” I crook my thumb in my sister’s direction.
“No, you can’t,” my sister says, her tone laced with sugar.
I stick my tongue out at her.
She responds in kind.
“Girls!” Mom puts an end to our childish show down.
“Mamá María Luisa for the best Colombian food in New York, an attempt at Daliana’s Bakery for the best Bizcocho Dominicano cake in New York, you preparing dulce frío and dulce de leche squares, and Colombian white wine? It’s as if you’re trying to butter up our parents,” my sister says. “Do you have a big announcement to make?”
God, I hate her right now.
“That’s a great segue,” Mom says. “What’s this about you dating someone and not telling me?”
“It’s still new.”
“But your sister met him,” Dad says.
“Mom was in London until a couple days ago, and you were jetlagged.”
“You say that like being jetlagged means you sleep twenty-four-seven.”
“That’s not what I said, dad,” I argue.
“Ciara was even more jetlagged than I was, and she met him—”
“His name is Bryce, Dad,” my sister says. “Bryce Van Der Linden.”
I interject. “Ciara met him because Bryce had a lighting emergency.”
“He’s in the real estate business?” Mom asks.
“No,” I say.
“Good!” Dad says. “I forbid you to date anyone related to that industry.”
I roll my eyes. “Not everyone is crook like Brad Hyler.”
