The school itinerary was simple enough. Pick up and drop off information, what days she needed PE clothes and whatnot.
But the after-school activities are absolutely mental. There’s no way this girl is signed up for ballet, gymnastics, swimming lessons, karate, piano, and soccer, plus Spanish and French tutoring. She’s five, for crying out loud.
But according to the meticulous calendar that is now saved to my phone, she is.
When we enter the underground parking garage, Hank unloads my luggage from the SUV and into the waiting elevator labeled PH and wishes me good luck on my first day tomorrow. He also mentions that he’ll be driving me to and from Anna’s school, as well as all of her after-school activities. I feel a little more at ease knowing that there will be a friendly face with me.
When I enter the code provided for me earlier, the elevator closes and starts its ascent.
I try to take a few calming breaths before I’m faced with Mateo again. I need to make sure I stay focused on being professionaland not letting my mouth get me into trouble before I pass this one-week test.
The elevator doors open faster than I anticipate, and I step out into the foyer. It seems like it’s been days, not hours, since I was here last.
I quickly kick off my sandals and start rolling my luggage toward the exuberant female voice singing in the kitchen.
The sound instantly puts a smile on my face.
six
“Mi Isabella, tan bella.”Mateo’s mom beams as she welcomes me with the same greeting I’ve been getting from her for years. I walk up to the kitchen stool she’s sitting at so she doesn’t need to stand for me.
She’s fully healed, but since she had a hip replacement, I’ve made a conscious effort to keep her off her feet when she’s around me.
“Bendición Bethzaida.” I give her a kiss on the cheek as she cups mine. We’re obviously not related, but Latinos rarely let blood determine the closeness of family. So out of respect, I always bless her when I see her, like I would to my aunts, grandmothers, or other family elders. We’re not even religious, besides maybe a prayer at Christmas dinner or a baptism here and there, but it is still customary.
Mateo appears at the mouth of the hallway beyond the living room. “Ah, you made it. Perfect timing. I just finished setting up the guest room,” he says as he leans in close to me.
I’m on autopilot when it comes to greetings and don’t even think twice about greeting him with a kiss on the cheek like I did for his mother moments ago. Only when I take a step back, I realize too late that he was merely leaning down to retrieve my luggage from beside me.
He coughs awkwardly, and I swear I’m imagining a blush forming beneath his short, impeccably kept beard. “Yeah, um, welcome again. I’ll, uh, be taking this to your room. Be right back.” His long strides take him out of sight within seconds.
Note to self: do not kiss your boss again, unless explicitly asked to do so.
Not that he would. But yes, noted, nonetheless.
Bethzaida tries to get my attention while I keep staring down the hallway where Mateo made his swift escape, praying my heated cheeks aren’t giving away my embarrassment. But before she can goad me with what I know will be a teasing remark, I hear my name being shouted from the second floor.
I don’t even need to look up, because that little voice of excitement can only come from one of my favorite humans. I start moving toward the staircase to meet her halfway, but it’s in vain, since Anna Martinez sprints down the stairs and makes a beeline straight for me. I underestimated her strength and energy, because by the time I open my arms to welcome her with a hug, she tackles me, and we go tumbling over the back of the couch. Thank God this thing is massive and extremely comfortable, because I don’t think it would be ideal to request workers’ comp on day one.
“Isa, you’re actually here!” she yells, even though she is perfectly perched on my chest and stomach, with our legs intertwined. “I couldn’t believe it when Papi said that you weregoing to hang out with me for a whole week, like we did in the Dominican Republic, remember?” I brush the hair out of her face while I watch in amusement as she tries to catch her breath.
“Yeah, I even get to take you to school tomorrow. Are you ready for that?”
She nods vigorously, just as I sense him looming over us.
“Anna, tell me I must be getting old and that my hearing is failing me, because I seem to believe that I heard you flying down the stairs, followed by a grunt that I assume came from you winding Isabella and tackling her to the couch.” He raises a stern brow.
She smiles sweetly as she says, “You’re getting old, and your hearing is failing you, Papi.” She giggles as he reaches down and easily throws her over his shoulder to tickle her as he spins her around the room.
The moment is so sweet that no one hears me whisper as I say to myself, “I didn’t grunt. It was more of a heavy exhale due to the element of surprise.”
After he puts her down, he looks back at me where I’m still sprawled out on the couch in the same position Anna put me in.
“Good. It seems like you’re already making yourself at home here.” His words carry a slight bite to them, and I quickly stand, remembering I’m supposed to respect his space and need for peace once he’s home.
Not reading the room, Bethzaida says, “Mateo, it makes me so happy seeing the three of you together.” Her eyes bounce over the three of us, all standing in different parts of the room.
He says nothing as he moves toward the kitchen, then starts unloading Tupperware from the fridge.
