CHAPTER17
Belinda was sure that none of the kitchens in the Edgewater apartments had ever held as many people as currently stood in Pedro’s. She watched carefully as Pedro’s mother, Sara, demonstrated the correct method of making a tamale. Determined, she picked up a corn husk and placed it flat on her hand.
Giving her support, Pedro’s sisters and sister-in-law mirrored her action. Two stood on either side of her while the two expectant mothers had joined through a computer link. Belinda spread a layer of the cornmeal mixture everyone called masa on the damp husk, adding a bit more when Sara offered her a partially filled spoon. She added a row of cooked chicken down the middle and carefully wrapped the bottom and sides together before tying it together with a strip of husk.
“Does that look right?” Belinda asked hesitantly, as she held it out on her palm.
Everyone fell silent as Sara plucked it from her hand. The matron of this closely knit clan examined it thoroughly and weighed its heaviness on her palm. After several long seconds, she looked up to meet Belinda’s gaze. “Absolutely perfect. I guess we can officially consider you part of the family now.”
A roar of excited chatter and congratulations rolled in from all sides of Belinda as everyone seemed to hug her at once. Sagging in relief, Belinda picked up her margarita that seemed to be the traditional drink for the Morales women while creating tamales and took a long drink. As everyone celebrated around her, she toasted the smiling women on the screen.
"My tamale was the worst you’ve ever seen, wasn’t it?” Belinda guessed.
“Oh, no. You should have seen Mariana’s first. It split through the cornhusk and crumbled to the floor. Yours stayed in a tamale shape,” Helena congratulated.
“Yours was excellent,” Sara reassured her, wrapping an arm around Belinda’s waist to hug her close. She waved a warning finger at her daughter on screen who had spilled the beans.
“You will have many years to make tamales with us. In a few years, we will help you teach your daughters how to make them as well,” Pedro’s mother informed her.
“How many children are you expecting?” Belinda blurted.
“As many or as few as the two of you decide. There is no pressure from us for you to have a family. We are perfectly content now that we can see how happy Pedro is and how ideal you are for each other.”
“Exactly, mamá,” her daughters echoed.
“I never had any siblings. Or a mom who cooked,” Belinda confessed.
“You are going to get so tired of us,” Mariana teased through the screen.
“Never. We’ll just send you home after the tamales are made,” Pedro informed them from the doorway. His gaze met Belinda’s, obviously checking to make sure she was doing okay with his family.
“Take your bride to be away and give her kisses. Then bring her back so we can tell her all the embarrassing stories of you as a kid,” Sara directed and shooed them from the kitchen.
Pedro quickly led her out of his apartment to the quiet of their bedroom in hers. Tinkerbell was curled up on the pillows, wrapped around Bubbles with his face propped on the platypus’s beak.
“Looks like Tink chose to have some alone time.”
She looked around at the small things he’d included to take care of her as his Little girl. A soft blanket lay on the chest at the end of the bed. She’d learned to enjoy the naps he scheduled for her on the weekends. The basket of small rewards nestled on her dresser. She loved earning stickers or fancy coloring books and crayons for being good. Pedro showed her every day how to enjoy being true to the Little girl inside her.
He wrapped his arms around her. “Need to escape?” he asked.
“No. I’m having fun. I like your family. They’re loud and fun. I think they like me,” she hesitantly suggested.
“I know they love you. My mom is showing you how to make tamales. That usually doesn’t happen until you produce a grandchild,” Pedro laughed.
“Do you think they’ll be unhappy when we wait a few years before trying to have a child?” Belinda asked.
“No. I think my parents had despaired that I’d ever find the one I searched for. Mamá shared frequently that I was too picky and warned that I would end up sad and alone. They’ve changed their minds after meeting you.”
“I’m glad you found me, too, Daddy.”
Pedro rewarded her with several kisses before giving her a squeeze. When his phone rang, he pulled it from his pocket and answered. “Sí, mamá.”
He laughed into the receiver before pushing the button to let her hear. “The tamales are calling,” he joked. “Listen.”
“What?” Belinda strained to hear.
“Tamales! Tamales! Tamales!” drifted through the phone.
“The tamales are calling?” she laughed.
“The Morales clan always heeds the call of the tamales,” he joked. “Would you make some spicy ones for me?”
“Bring me another margarita and I’ll make sure to pepper a few up for you,” Belinda suggested.
“Deal!” he agreed. The loving look in his eyes reassured her completely that her Daddy was the one she’d dreamed of as hard as he had searched for her.
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