Messy Love (Stumbling into Love 3)

And that was not something I planned to admit to anyone else. Honestly, I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.

Before I knew it, the minutes had flown by in Jonathan-thought, and I was pulling my car into the driveway at Mom’s house. Monica’s and Eliza’s cars were already out front. We tried to get together as a family once a month, which would be difficult with the upcoming baseball games.

I got out of the car, knocked on the door, then slowly opened it to the sound of the three of them speaking and the rich smell of Mexican spices in the air. God, I loved Mama’s home-cooked meals. She looked up from where she stood by the dining-room table, which was across from the kitchen in the open-concept home. My sisters sat in chairs in front of her.

“There’s my boy,” Mama said.

“There’s my boy,” Monica mocked.

“Hey, Mama.” I hugged her while giving my sister the finger behind her back. We were close, Monica and I, but we liked to give each other shit. “What are we having?”

“I made a bunch of tamales yesterday and started the consommé for birria tacos. I got up early to get it going again.”

My stomach growled in response. Fuck, I was lucky. She knew birria tacos were my favorite. “Mama loves me more than you,” I teased my sisters before Mama smacked me upside the head. “Ouch. I was kidding. I know you don’t have a favorite.” Parents totally had favorites. No one would make me believe differently. Parents were also supposed to love their kids more than anything, but if that was true, why did people like my dad leave? My mom worked hard to give us all she could in life, and she would always be my favorite person in the world because of it. She’d been working at the same restaurant for thirty years. She didn’t own it, but she might as well have. She had cooked for and run the damn place most of her adult life.

When I’d come out, she’d been nothing but supportive. I knew she would always love me.

“How’s everyone doing?” I asked.

Monica rambled on about her job at the bank and Eliza about work and college. Eliza was the extra-smart one. She loved learning, and I had a feeling she would find a way to always be in school if she could, even if that meant running herself ragged. Mama was proud of us, her three kids who were all making good lives for themselves. It was what she’d wanted for us.

We all talked and laughed for a while, the way we always did when we got together. Eventually, Mama went back into the kitchen to finish cooking, while my sisters and I continued chatting. Some of my favorite times were with my family, and for some reason, it made me think about Jonathan. Was it like this for him and his family? I didn’t think it was. Maybe before he’d come out, though? I knew his mom accepted and loved him, but things were strained with two of his brothers. Before, had they been as close as I was with Monica and Eliza? I might not see my sisters or talk to them every day, but there was a tight bond between us.

“Hello? Earth to Danny.” Monica waved a hand in front of my face.

“Sorry, I was spacing off. What did you say?”

“Mama said lunch is done, and you’re typically the first one in the kitchen, so I was confused.”

“Ha-ha.” I wrapped an arm around her shoulders as we went to the kitchen. “I was thinking about my roommate.”

“Oooh, is he hot?”

“He’s gay.”

“Damn it! All the cute ones are.”

I chuckled. “How do you know he’s cute?”

“I don’t, but that’s usually my luck. They’re either gay or assholes.”

Mama set tacos, a tamale, rice, and beans on our plates, and gave us each a bowl for the consommé. She cooked the beef in a pot with peppers and other veggies, then took the meat out, shredded it, and put it into tortillas with cilantro and onion. From there she fried them, and we dipped the tacos in the consommé. It was basically the best food in existence.

When we sat down at the table, we bowed our heads while Mama said a prayer. I was raised Catholic, though I wasn’t sure how I felt about religion. Mama was passionate about it, but she was still more of an Easter and Christmas service goer. With her, we prayed before every meal, and she was big on telling us to put any troubles we had in God’s hands and He would take care of them.

“So what’s the deal with the roommate?” Eliza asked as we started to eat.

“I don’t like strange men living with you,” Mama said.

“He’s only one man, and he’s not strange. He’s my friend Will’s brother. I met him a few times before he moved in.” I took a bite and nearly died as flavor exploded on my tongue. “Oh my God. This is the best.”