“I’ll come back for the rest of my art supplies tomorrow.”
“I’ll bring them over in the morning.” Valeria smiles up at me from where she sits at the table beside her daughter. “Is that all you have?”
“That’s it!” I deposit Sofia into the chair beside them.
My cousin stands, pulling me into a hug. “It’s going to be strange not having you here.”
“I’ll have my own room at last!” Lola bounces in her chair, and Sofia falls back, crossing her arms.
“I will, too.” Her voice is pouty.
I turn to Valeria. “I didn’t know Beto’s arrival would change so many things.”
After our short conversations in his truck, I don’t know what to expect of living in my brother’s house, and while I hope for the best, I don’t know if I should be happy or afraid.
Valeria gives me a tight smile. “Try to remember he only wants what’s best for you… for his family.”
“Apparently what he thinks is best is acting like it’s the 1950s.”
She laughs, light filling her eyes. “You two are so much alike. You’re going to be fine.”
My brother takes the suitcase from my hand, inspecting it with a frown. “That’s all you have?” I shrug, and he waves me to the truck. “We’ll take care of this later.”
Whatever Valeria says, I’m not sure this is going to be fine.
3
Deacon
“Seeing you, sitting there… You’re the spitting image of your father.” My aunt Winnie smiles at me from the head of a long, ranch oak table in the dining room of our family mansion.
She’s wearing a sleek, emerald-green dress, and her straight white hair is swept back in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. She’s a stern old broad, an elegant beauty, but she’s always been sweet to me. Dad would say it’s because I’m her only nephew. I’m the only anything, since she never had any children, and they have no other siblings.
A fire is burning in an oversized hearth behind me. She runs the air conditioner so she can have a fire at dinner. It’s pretty much the height of old Texas overindulgence.
“That’s what everybody says. With my grandmother’s eyes.”
She lifts a glass of red wine. “Your visits give me such joy. I’m sure you’ll never know. I’m so glad you’re finished with school. I hope to see you more.”
That last bit is a passive-aggressive dig, but I let it pass. One of my late father’s last requests was I take care of his sister, so I have dinner with her once a week when I’m in town and do my best to tolerate her outdated notions about life and politics.
I love my aunt, but she’d rather fight than evolve. It’s not how I want our relationship to be—if I can help it.
“I’ll always make time for our weekly dinners.” I return her smile, doing my
best to tamp down my frustration over how this day played out.
My plan when I left Harristown this morning was not to be having dinner with my aunt. I drove two and a half hours, straight to La Frida Java, in the hopes of being in Angel’s arms right now.
Then her brother appeared.
Then it all went to hell.
My jaw tightens. I’ve wanted to meet Angel’s family for years. She always said no. She always had a reason we needed to wait. Now I’ve been texting her all day, wanting to see her, and she’s moving to Lakeside? I’m happy, but I’m confused.
“Do you not like your salad?” Winnie eyes me from above the rim of her heavy crystal goblet.
“It’s fine.” I stab at the plate of purple and dark green lettuce in front of me. Yellow beets, pecans, and balls of goat cheese adorn the center. “I like this cheese.”