able to say no to the blue-eyed gringo.” Her grin and her dad’s low chuckle made me think things were about to get dicey with Pura.
She let go of my hand and waved it in the direction of the kitchen, where her mom was busy putting food into containers and her grandma was apparently handwashing the high-end disposable plates we’d eaten on.
I started walking toward them slowly and after a couple of steps looked back to find Paula, Julia, and their dad watching me like I was the best entertainment in town. I pointed at Julia and wagged my finger. “Is something about to happen to me?”
She cracked up and mouthed, “You’ll be fine.”
Suuuuure I would be.
I got to the counter and cleared my throat to get the two older women’s attention. They both snapped their heads up with matching beatific smiles aimed at me.
“Oh, Rocco. Quieres algo?” I rushed to shake my head at the inquiry, in case the something they were wondering if I wanted more of was food.
“No,” I said, beckoning Julia over. “Queriamos ayudar con la limpieza.” I paused for a moment when they both gave me blank stares at the suggestion of us helping with the cleanup, and wondered if my Spanish wasn’t right. There was some sputtering, but soon after, Sebastian and Paula also came to help.
There was some very fast Spanish, and Sebastian clapped me hard on the shoulder. Pura and Yolanda considered each other for a couple of seconds, and then abuela started taking her apron off. Yolanda followed her example while the other three gasped as if something monumental was unfolding in the cramped kitchen. It seemed like Abuela’s accepting my offer to clean was a game changer for the Ortiz clan. I wasn’t even sure why, but I was feeling about ten feet tall, especially when Julia’s grandmother pushed up and kissed me on the cheek.
“Esta bien, querido.” Pura’s smile was wide as she spoke, and Yolanda had a matching expression.
“Julita, your friend is a good boy. I like him,” Yolanda declared with a friendly wink aimed in my direction. Julia, Paula, and Sebastian had matching expressions of shock as I smugly tied on Abuela’s discarded apron. I waggled my eyebrows at Julia as she looked on in disbelief. Pura and Yolanda each patted me on the shoulder as they walked from the kitchen to relax on the couch.
“Vamos, Julita, a limpiar,” I teased, as she shook her head in amazement.
I noticed Julia’s shock was quickly replaced with an expression that looked a bit more menacing, so I quit teasing. But soon she and I were cleaning up side by side in the kitchen as her dad and Paula tidied up the living room.
Once we got busy scrubbing pots and pans, Julia bumped my shoulder. “I never thought there would be a guy to wear my abuela down and get her to take a rest after a holiday meal.”
“Oh?” I was impressed with my ability to sound casual.
“My ex, Matt, and I were together on and off for like fifteen years and she never let him anywhere near her kitchen.” She frowned at something, then muttered. “Not that he ever offered.”
I’d never wanted to punch someone I hadn’t met so bad, but if I ever ran into that fucker I was going to pop him right on the mouth.
“On the first try you got her to actually sit down.” She gestured at her grandmother, who was sipping some rum, with a baffled expression. “You talked her into literally putting her feet up! What kind of witch are you?”
I laughed and winked at her. “Uh, wizard, and Abuela likes me, I guess.”
Something that sounded a lot like “get in line” left her lips, but we went back to cleaning up in companionable silence.
Being here with Julia, it made me yearn for things I never knew I wanted or even considered I deserved. With Coach Brito, I’d always been welcome and cared for, but I wasn’t one of them. My parents were always lurking only a few miles away, threatening to pull me back into their chaos.
Here though, in this city and in this apartment, I felt like I was right where I was supposed to be. Like I was a piece of the puzzle, and if I went missing, the picture would not be complete.
* * *
Things were starting to wind down at Julia’s and even though I knew I should, I didn’t want to leave. I ran my hand over