Dalton chuckled, then shook his head as he shoulder-bumped his brother on their way out the door.
Maria cleared her throat again, and I turned to look at her. “What?” I said innocently. Diego picked up Manny, and beat a hasty retreat towards the living room.
“Girl!” Maria smirked at me. “I’ve never seen him like that. Not with anyone. Not even in high school.”
“What was he like?”
She tilted her head. “Mac was pretty much the same. Calm, quiet, yet somehow still in charge. Dalton was a total man-ho. They’ve both matured, obviously. But you do something to them, Nicky. Holy shit, wait ‘til I tell Holly you about turned my kitchen into an episode ofPasión de Gavilanes.”
I groaned and threw a dish towel at her as she hummed the theme song, swaying her ample hips to the imaginary beat.
Diego came from the hallway, dragging a bin of toys as best he could. “Aunt Nicky, wanna play?”
As if I could turn him down.
“Absolutely I do, handsome man. But you’re gonna have to play on the table ‘cos Aunt Nicky can’t move too well, okay?” Look at me, talking in third person and shit.
Diego gave his mother a quizzical look, and she said, “You can play with toys on the table only when Aunt Nicky is here, and they better be cleared off for dinner.”
The little boy nodded eagerly before handing me a fewaction figures and climbing into the chair next to me.
Diego and I played while his mom cooked. Diego Sr. would come into the kitchen every now and then, on the hunt for a snack for the baby and stealing kisses from his wife. It was a sweet, domestic scene, and I found myself completely at peace—despite the fact that Diego kept brutally killing my action figure. So far, I had been murdered by a T. rex, a bomber, and a Barbie. He was thrilled every time I went down dramatically, groaning and moaning and playing along.
“Alright,mi familia, dinner is ready. Everyone, come wash your hands!”
Jewel sauntered into the kitchen with Manny in her arms. “You said no Spanish, Mom. Just saying.”
She dragged the high chair over to the table and secured Manny in it before taking the seat across from me. Diego busied himself clearing the toys from the table, while his dad set out plates and silverware. Jewel and I just sat there, her staring at me—man, the kid should take up detective work. I squirmed in my seat. Was this a normal teenager thing? Because her brown eyes were staring into my soul.
“Sorry I missed your party, by the way,” I said, trying to break the ice.
She shrugged. “You were almost dead. Would’ve totally ruined the mood.”
Well, alrighty then.
Maria set down a massive platter of chicken drenched in some sort of brown sauce. The smell was enough to send me to heaven. Next to it, she put a big bowl of yellow rice and then some sort of corn dish that had peppers and black beans in it. I was practically drooling when Maria sat next to me and said, “I hope you likemole.”
I shrugged. “I have no idea what that is, but it smells divine. Definitely better than hospital food.”
Over the next hour, I ate my weight in food whilelistening to the Gonzales family banter and chat. They were a rambunctious group—even little Manny occasionally shouting baby nonsense while his mom fed him a mixture of baby food and little bits off her plate. Jewel and her stepdad were locked in an intense debate about her book budget. She had evidently exceeded it for the month, and was expertly negotiating for more. Maria brought out sometres lechescake for dessert, and I was pretty sure I could’ve taken the whole thing to my room and been a happy woman.
“Girl, you need to show me how to make all this. I’m afraid my skills are decidedly centered on American cuisine. This is some of the best food I’ve ever had.”
Maria shrugged my compliment off, but smiled broadly. “You made those delicious fajitas that first night, remember? And then those tamales my son suckered you into making.”
“Girl, my tamales probably haunt the dreams of yourabuela.”
She had told me about her grandma more times than I can count. The woman was evidently a force to be reckoned with, old school and no nonsense. But she had loved Maria fiercely, and had a penchant for taking in lost souls—a trait her beloved granddaughter had clearly inherited.
Maria laughed at me, and even Diego Sr. cracked a smile. “You’re not wrong there, Nicole. That woman scared the shit out of me.”
Maria threw a napkin at him, and he winked at her. Handing the baby a piece of chicken to gnaw on, she said, “She would’ve loved you, you know. I’ll have to show you some pictures while you’re here.”
I took a sip of my water. “I would love that.”
When dinner was over, my offer to help clean up was promptly dismissed. No surprise there. I played with Manny at the dining room table while they got everythingput away. Despite my insistence that I was fine, Maria was adamant that I let her help me stand. Secretly, I was grateful for the help. My pain meds were starting to wear off, and the damn things were probably in my room which seemed incredibly far away.
We moved to the living room, Maria fussing around me like a mother hen. When I was settled in the oversized recliner, she tossed a blanket on my lap, and squashed pillows around me. I couldn’t move too well, but the bracing from the pillows helped ease the pain, so I didn’t complain. Jewel and Diego Jr. played with Manny on the floor. Diego Sr. came up next to me with a glass of milk and my pills.
