As for the kids, three of them shouted varying things including, “Tía Cassidy!” “Hot Fudge!” and “I gotta go to the bathroom!”
Gerardo, their youngest, dashed straight through Deacon and my legs on his way to take care of business in the bathroom.
Esteban forged in toward our sides, which meant Deacon moved me back as he turned us toward the boy who was holding up a plastic bowl with a plastic top that held a melting hot fudge sundae.
“Mamá said you were sad so we got this for you,” he declared, thrusting the sundae toward me.
“Papá always gets me a sundae when I’m feeling sad,” Araceli, their second oldest daughter (third oldest child, with Silvia, at twelve, being first, Esteban, ten years old, second, Margarita, at six, fourth, Gerardo, four and a half, coming last). “It always makes me feel happy.”
“Well, that’s awesome and sweet,” I replied, because it was and I wasn’t surprised my mood had been read by my friend.
I pulled my hand from Deacon’s in order to take the sundae.
“You have to eat it, like right now, or it’ll be all melted,” Margarita advised.
“I’ll just pop it in the freezer. Dea…uh, John hasn’t had dinner. We’ll share it when he has. Now, everyone come in,” I invited, grabbing on to Deacon’s wrist and pulling him back to give the invitation physically as well.
“Dee-uh-John, that’s a weird name,” Margarita declared, taking two skips in—skipping her way of ambulating everywhere. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen her take a normal step.
“Rita!” Milagros snapped.
She tipped her head back to her entering mother. “Well it is.”
“Name’s just John,” Deacon stated and I looked to him to see him looking to Manuel. “John Priest.”
He stuck out a hand toward Manuel.
Manuel looked at it then took it. “Manuel Cabrera.” They separated and Manuel put his hand on Milagros’s shoulder. “My wife, Milagros.”
Deacon offered Milagros his hand, stating, “Cassie has a lot of good to say about you.”
Milagros took Deacon’s hand but her eyes were on me as she replied, “Cassie?”
“I…uh, yes. Cassie,” I blathered. “Priest, I mean, John and I are…uh, well—”
Deacon saved me but he unfortunately did it by ordering, “Woman, put the sundae in the freezer.”
I looked up at him, eyes narrowed. “Boss much?”
“You want a melted sundae?” he returned.
“Maybe,” I shot back.
“Well I don’t,” he retorted.
“They didn’t bring it for you,” I pointed out.
“You gonna eat it in front of me?” he asked.
“Of course not,” I snapped.
“Then put it in the freezer.”
I made a face at him.
He grinned.
I stopped making a face at him and my heart leapt as my vagina pulsed.