A Wright Christmas - K.A. Linde Page 0,28

off the rehearsal. Then, I changed into something more comfortable and headed over to my abuelita’s home. She had been living in the same one-story house since the ’70s when she had immigrated to America with my mom. It wasn’t much, but children and grandchildren had been raised there and the house was completely full of love.

She had a garden out back, full of herbs and spices that she grew herself. She’d always told us, growing up, that we preserved our heritage in our food. Then, she’d pinch my cheek and say, “In our dancing, too.”

Abuelita Nina had always been a strong advocate for me pursuing dance even if it wasn’t the Mexican dances she had taught me as a girl.

“What is that smell?” I groaned as I entered the house.

Piper stuck her head out of the kitchen. “Only my favorite food in the world.”

“Pozole,” I said, just shy of drooling at the thought.

“There she is,” my abuelita said, leaving the kitchen to give me a hug. “You finally made time for me.”

“Lo siento.” I pulled back to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Dance keeps me busy.”

“You find more time for me, mi amorcita.” Abuelita patted my hand. “Come and eat. The pozole is ready.”

“All the fruits and none of the labor,” Peter muttered.

I laughed and took a seat at the small wooden table, which had been there since my childhood and showed it all through dents and scratches along the top. My mom doled out bowls of the traditional Mexican fare. It was the same recipe that my grandmother had brought straight from Mexico and that her mother and her mother before her had been making back home. We ate the meal in near silence as we all devoured the succulent pork shoulder mixed with white hominy, decadent spices, and piping hot chilis.

My mouth watered, as I drained the entire bowl. “Back in New York, there are some pretty amazing traditional Mexican restaurants,” I told the table. “But none hold a candle to this.”

“Come home, and I will make it for you all the time,” Abuelita assured me.

“As much as I’d like to stuff myself until I can’t walk tomorrow,” Piper said, “we have to go look for a date dress for Peyton.”

I buried my face in my bowl.

“Are you going on another date with Isaac?” my mom asked.

“Why isn’t he over here for my pozole?” Abuelita asked, busying herself with cleaning up the dishes. “He loves my cooking. Good boy always ate two helpings.”

I looked up from my bowl with a sigh. “We are going to the Wright Christmas party. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s a big deal,” Peter said with a laugh.

Piper shot him a look, and they hit knuckles. “It so is.”

“This is why I don’t tell you anything.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” my mom said. “We’re all happy for you. We want to see you settled down and married.”

“With some babies,” Nina added. “I need some great-grandbabies, you know?”

I shook my head in dismay. “Not this again.”

“I guess that’s our cue,” Piper said, coming to her feet.

“Thank you for the dinner,” I said, kissing my grandma as I passed and then my mom. “I will see you all after the show Friday, right?”

“We wouldn’t miss it,” my mom said with a wink. “Have fun.”

I ignored her singsong tone and followed Piper out to the cars. We decided to leave the one I was borrowing from dad and take Piper’s Jeep to her favorite boutique, Chrome.

We were greeted by an overexcited twenty-something with incredible style. “Hi, welcome to Chrome. Are you shopping for anything special today?”

“No, thanks. We’re just browsing,” I said automatically.

Piper rolled her eyes and grabbed my arm. “Actually, my sister is going on a date and needs a killer dress.”

“Pipes,” I muttered.

“Oh, that sounds fun. Where are you going?”

“The Wright Christmas party,” Piper informed her.

“So, something cocktail. Not too sexy, but not too formal.”

“It’s really…I’m fine,” I told them both.

“No worries. I’m Veronica. You go ahead and browse. I’m going to look for a few pieces on my own, and then we can consult in the dressing room.”

I nodded gratefully to Veronica and began to wander the boutique. Piper followed behind me, adding things to my already-weighed-down arms.

“So, you and Isaac?” Piper asked, holding up a slinky red dress.

“What about us?”

“What’s it like, doing this all over again?”

“I don’t know,” I said truthfully. But Piper looked honestly curious, so I continued, “It feels right. Not like it was in high