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She liked it.
Gia hovered near the lunch table, hands clasped behind her back, watching. That’s what coaches did, right? They stood with their hands clasped behind their backs and a whistle in their mouths. Maybe she needed a whistle?
“Nice outfit.” The words were said but not heard.
Her kids had arranged themselves in a perfect, patient line, letting one at a time fill a compostable plate, and chattering about who climbed the highest and went the fastest. The table was spread with quesadillas, carnitas, tortillas, and Gia’s favorite—refried beans. She was hopeful that kids found beans gross—and it seemed like they did. Seven kids had plates loaded with quesadillas. Not a bean to be seen.
“I said, nice outfit,chica.”
“Hm?”
“Nice outfit!” the woman said for the third time.
“Oh! Crap! I mean, shoot.” Gia backtracked around little ears and looked down at her tank/capri combo. She was catalogue-ready again. “Thanks, it’s from Courtney. What are you doing here? I mean—”
“It looks good on you. You should wear tights more.” Roxi interrupted. “My niece is in the class. I’m just picking her up. Favor for my brother.”
“Sorry, Rox. You caught me off guard. I was wondering if those tacos taste as good as they smell. And if I could sneak some churros without Courtney noticing. Which one’s yours?”
“Ramona.” Roxi motioned to the girl with long dark hair sandwiched between her star athletes, Jax and Benji. The R name held through the family, just as Roxi’d said. And Ramona could’ve passed for Roxi’s daughter. Same dark, deep eyes. Same raven’s feather-colored locks. Same crunched smile. “Seven years old and already a flirt! Gets it from hertía.I don’t know how my brother managed to lock down a wife. He barely talks.”
“She’s cute,” Gia said. What next? Words. She needed words. Any words would do. The boy band was still crooning overhead, which made silence even more painful.
“So what’cha doing tonight? We’re throwing a pool party for some friends. Wanna come?”
Her first instinct was to say “no,” and avoid potential awkwardness with Savannah, the presumed person who constituted “we.” Though Roxi said they weren’t together, Savannah still seemed like a threat. Maybe it was because she was older. Or because she knew Roxi in ways Gia wanted to. Or, because of some other anxiety that was impossible to pinpoint. “I don’t want to crash your party.”
Gia told herself it was a good answer. Noncommittal. No emotion either way.
“You can’t crash a party you’re invited to! Besides, it’s time for you to find some community,chica. Wouldn’t hurt to know more gays than your boyfriend, the model.”
Was that jealousy?
“You know what?” Gia nodded, counting the kids wearing green T-shirts—hers—to make sure they were all still there. “That sounds fun. What can I bring?”
“Yourself, a swimsuit, and some of that top-shelf water. Bring the boy, too, if you want.” Roxi smoothed the front of her tights as she said, “bring the boy.”
“You mean Derrick? Are you jealous?!”
“¡Tía!”
“¡Hola,mija!” Roxi lifted her niece into an airborne hug. “You ready to go?Tu papasaid we could stop by my house and swim a little first. But only if you want to.”
“I want to! I want to!” Ramona jumped down, grabbed Roxi’s hand, and tugged her toward the front door. There was a swimming pool waiting and no time to waste.
“See you tonight,chica? Eight till whenever.”
“See you.” Gia waved. “Good job today, Ramona! Be sure to show your aunt how you learned to tumble!”
A pool party. With Roxi’s friends. And her ex. What was she getting into?
“Courtney!” Gia called after she checked two more kids out to their people. “You guys wait here. I’ll be right back. If your parents or whoever come, don’t go until I meet them, okay?”
“Yes, Coach Barone!” They replied in singsong unison. Damn, she really liked the Coach Barone thing.
“What’s up?” Courtney appeared in an instant, a single child by her side. “This is Gemma. She’s hanging out with us a bit longer today till her mom can get off work.”
“Hey, Gemma. I like your name. Mine’s Gia. Kinda sounds similar, huh?”
