woman.”
“I owe Valeria a lot. She took care of me, she paid for everything. Why, if it weren’t for Uncle Antonio—”
“You owe them nothing. I paid him back for your classes.”
Heat flashes in my cheeks. “So I owe you now?” The last thing I want is to be indebted to Beto.
“I told you, I’m taking care of you now.” Finishing his coffee, he puts the mug in the sink. “You grew up in a pretty fairytale, Carmelita, a bubble. You know nothing of your family. You don’t know what our life was here.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “You have to trust me to know what’s best for you.”
“How can you know what’s best for me? You know nothing about my life since you’ve been gone.” My voice rises, and I hate that I sound small next to him. “You can’t come back here and start ordering me around.”
“One day when we are old, you can tell me what to do.” He touches my chin and winks. “For now, I tell you.”
I’m hot all over and ready to fight this out, but he’s headed for the door. “Valeria wants me at the church with her and the girls.” He pauses, looking back. “Someone needs to be here to supervise the workers, the food, decorations… Would you be willing to do it?”
“Of course.”
He nods, and with that, he leaves me standing in the kitchen, with all of my arguments still in my mouth… I wasn’t finished! And I never told him about Deacon.
All my arguments and anger are lost once the party crew arrives. I spend the afternoon flying, directing cater-waiters, movers, florists, bakers… Beto’s shiny new mansion really is far superior to the Knights of Columbus community center for Lo’s party. Japanese magnolias and Bradford pear trees line the path down to the pristine lake, and the weather is pleasant, despite being almost June in Texas.
In addition to our small family, all of Lola’s friends will be here, along with their families. I leave space between the tables for the traditional dances and rituals. It’s odd to think at fifteen our culture says Lo is no longer a girl. She’s only a sophomore in high school. Still, it’s a beautiful tradition I’m only a little sad I missed out on celebrating.
Shaking that memory away, I return to directing the florist on where to put Lo’s oversized bouquet, and how to arrange all the smaller bunches on each table.
An enormous five-tiered birthday cake, decorated in burgundy roses to match Lo’s dress is in the center of a large table in the back, and a specialty boutique organized the pillow and the last doll. My cousin already has her tiara.
My phone is blowing up with texts from Deacon, starting with his usual, million-year-old, lame-assed jokes, which he completely used to steal my heart the first day we met. What can I say? I’m a sucker for a funny, sexy guy.
A skeleton walks into a bar, he sends me around four.
I’m in the middle of arranging candles under chafing dishes on the long tables lining the dining room walls, but I can’t resist. I type back quickly, Orders a beer and a mop.
I want to see you now.
My tummy squeezes when I picture the wicked light in his eyes, his crooked grin, his full lips. Then I look down at my cutoffs and dirty tee, my wild hair piled on my head in a messy bun.
You really don’t want to see me. I’m a hot mess.
You’re always hot. I’m coming early.
FIVE THIRTY!!! I reply, shouty caps and exclamation points intentional.
So grumpy for a party day.
Can’t talk, setting up.
It’s the last text we exchange before my cousin twirls in an hour later just ahead of her family. She looks like a lady in her ball gown, which fits her perfectly. I’m so proud of her. My eyes heat, and I dab a tear from the corner of my eye. I arrived when Lo was only seven, and now she’s a young woman in a beautiful dress I made for her.
“It’s a dream come true!” Lo clasps her gloved hands beneath her chin. “I imagined how my party would be, but it’s so much more. Thank you, Uncle Beto!”
Her eyes are shining, and even if she’s being a little extra, I go to her, pulling her into a hug. Every girl deserves to feel special at least once in her life.
Her friends file in behind her, giggling like the teenage girls they are and