for an adventure in a new country, a chance to build a life together. That was love’s unspoken promise—blind and hopeful, some kind of beautiful forever.
Mom smiled, but there was a new sadness around her eyes, a worry that hadn’t been there this morning. All my planned protests about Mari’s extended visit shrank into the shadows. I couldn’t lay that on Mom. Not now.
“I’m not hungry,” I said. “I finished the torta .”
“Okay, querida . Then I’m going to bed.” Mom rose from her chair and kissed the top of my head, and I closed my eyesand listened to the familiar swish of her socks against the tile floors, soft as falling dust.
My sisters were wrong to name the Vargas boys in the oath. Names had nothing to do with it. All boys were destined to break your heart.
Chapter 10
Pancake, what a trooper. He’d been standing sentry at the front door all morning—he thought something exciting was blowing in, pobrecito . A cloud of red dust swirled up the driveway right before lunch, and his tail started helicoptering, and he was all, Oh boy oh boy oh boy something’s happening ohhhh boy!
Then Mari’s car rolled up, and he plodded into the kitchen and nosed my leg like, Seriously? That’s it? Because Jude? Jude? Jude? I was told there would be bunnies.
“I feel you, Pancake.” I set the tomato soup to simmer and pulled the empanadas from the oven. Not bad as far as last meals were concerned.
“Somebody here?” Papi said when he heard the car.
Mari had wanted her visit to be a surprise. And by “wanted,” I mean “demanded.”
When Papi, Pancake, and I opened the front door, Mari was there on the stoop, all sunshine and bed-head blond like she’d just sailed in from the ocean, and when she smiled andpulled us into a group hug, a few of my reservations dissolved. Like, four of them. Out of a hundred.
It was a start.
“I missed you guys so much.” Her breath was soft on my cheek as she squeezed us tighter, and Papi kept saying, “Oh, oh, oh,” through a big, bright grin.
“I’m glad you came.” I whispered the words, and she smelled like lavender lotion and her awful cigarettes and it brought me back to when she had the bedroom across from mine and sometimes she’d let me listen to music in there while she did her homework, and I meant what I said.
I was glad she came.
Mari had just sucked down her third empanada when a rumble shook the windows. She craned her neck to look out the kitchen door and wrinkled her nose at the sight. “Who do we know with a black motorcycle?”
Heart, welcome to throat central. Make yourself at home!
I’d been planning to cancel Emilio today. I needed at least a day to persuade Mari that hiring a Vargas clearly fell outside the terms of the oath, and that my other sisters didn’t need to know about it, and that it would all be finished by the time I left for the Dunes with Zoe and Christina.
¡Terminado!
But I’d totally spaced the cancellation call, and now Emilio was here, all swagger and dimples and low-slung jeans, waltzing up to the kitchen door like he was part of the family.
“Look who’s here!” Papi waved him in. “Empanadas are getting cold, son. You like jamón y queso ?”
“Love them.” He shot me a devilish smile and I went all hot and bothered. Seriously, like some Southern belle, and then I had to go open up the windows over the sink and pretend all that cooking had gone to my head. Devil-Jude thought it was a real rock star of a trick.
I finally sat down again and my thigh accidentally brushed Emilio’s thigh and he leaned down to pet Pancake, who in my opinion was getting a little too comfortable with this boy in the house.
“Is that the mechanic?” Mari mouthed the words across the table. “Hot!”
I tried to sink lower into my chair, but there was nowhere to go so I just grinned and hoped Pancake would start speaking French so I could be all, Oh my God, you guys! The dog said bonjour!
But Emilio started the
Mom smiled, but there was a new sadness around her eyes, a worry that hadn’t been there this morning. All my planned protests about Mari’s extended visit shrank into the shadows. I couldn’t lay that on Mom. Not now.
“I’m not hungry,” I said. “I finished the torta .”
“Okay, querida . Then I’m going to bed.” Mom rose from her chair and kissed the top of my head, and I closed my eyesand listened to the familiar swish of her socks against the tile floors, soft as falling dust.
My sisters were wrong to name the Vargas boys in the oath. Names had nothing to do with it. All boys were destined to break your heart.
Chapter 10
Pancake, what a trooper. He’d been standing sentry at the front door all morning—he thought something exciting was blowing in, pobrecito . A cloud of red dust swirled up the driveway right before lunch, and his tail started helicoptering, and he was all, Oh boy oh boy oh boy something’s happening ohhhh boy!
Then Mari’s car rolled up, and he plodded into the kitchen and nosed my leg like, Seriously? That’s it? Because Jude? Jude? Jude? I was told there would be bunnies.
“I feel you, Pancake.” I set the tomato soup to simmer and pulled the empanadas from the oven. Not bad as far as last meals were concerned.
“Somebody here?” Papi said when he heard the car.
Mari had wanted her visit to be a surprise. And by “wanted,” I mean “demanded.”
When Papi, Pancake, and I opened the front door, Mari was there on the stoop, all sunshine and bed-head blond like she’d just sailed in from the ocean, and when she smiled andpulled us into a group hug, a few of my reservations dissolved. Like, four of them. Out of a hundred.
It was a start.
“I missed you guys so much.” Her breath was soft on my cheek as she squeezed us tighter, and Papi kept saying, “Oh, oh, oh,” through a big, bright grin.
“I’m glad you came.” I whispered the words, and she smelled like lavender lotion and her awful cigarettes and it brought me back to when she had the bedroom across from mine and sometimes she’d let me listen to music in there while she did her homework, and I meant what I said.
I was glad she came.
Mari had just sucked down her third empanada when a rumble shook the windows. She craned her neck to look out the kitchen door and wrinkled her nose at the sight. “Who do we know with a black motorcycle?”
Heart, welcome to throat central. Make yourself at home!
I’d been planning to cancel Emilio today. I needed at least a day to persuade Mari that hiring a Vargas clearly fell outside the terms of the oath, and that my other sisters didn’t need to know about it, and that it would all be finished by the time I left for the Dunes with Zoe and Christina.
¡Terminado!
But I’d totally spaced the cancellation call, and now Emilio was here, all swagger and dimples and low-slung jeans, waltzing up to the kitchen door like he was part of the family.
“Look who’s here!” Papi waved him in. “Empanadas are getting cold, son. You like jamón y queso ?”
“Love them.” He shot me a devilish smile and I went all hot and bothered. Seriously, like some Southern belle, and then I had to go open up the windows over the sink and pretend all that cooking had gone to my head. Devil-Jude thought it was a real rock star of a trick.
I finally sat down again and my thigh accidentally brushed Emilio’s thigh and he leaned down to pet Pancake, who in my opinion was getting a little too comfortable with this boy in the house.
“Is that the mechanic?” Mari mouthed the words across the table. “Hot!”
I tried to sink lower into my chair, but there was nowhere to go so I just grinned and hoped Pancake would start speaking French so I could be all, Oh my God, you guys! The dog said bonjour!
But Emilio started the
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