“I know. I don’t know. You are all over the place.” Mama waved her hand from side to side.
“I have one idea, but I need your help.”
“Mija, I don’t want to interfere. You and Hank need to work things out.” That was gold coming from the woman who fed my jealousy.
“You have to teach me to cook his favorite foods. I don’t even know what he likes to eat when he comes over here.” The idea didn’t sound as genius as it did in the car.
“But you don’t cook!”
I leaned forward and grabbed her hand. “Please. You have to help me. You were the one who told me not to underestimate the power of food.”
“You’ll help me make tamales?”
I remembered how much work went into shredding the pork and assembling the tamales. Usually, my mom made them alone. I just gave them as gifts to close friends.
“Does he like them or are you just using the situation to get my help?”
Mama grinned. “He loves my tamales. Says they are the best he’s ever had.”
He had said that. Multiple times. He could down an entire dozen in a matter of minutes.
“This weekend?”
“Yes and the weekend after. Come over tomorrow, and I’ll teach you to make carne guisada. He loves that with fresh tortillas.”
“Will you teach me to make tortillas?”
That must not have been her plan because she sipped on that drink again. “I’ll try.”
“Thanks, Mama. Pray that this works.”
She nodded. “And that you don’t make him sick.”
“Mama!”
Laughing, she stood. “I’m joking. You’ll be great. And buñuelos. He loves those. And polvorones.” She rubbed her belly. “I’m making myself hungry. Come on. You get your first lesson tonight.”
Hoping there was magic in her kitchen, I paid close attention as we mixed cookie dough and rolled the pink-tinted dough balls in sugar. “I love these. You haven’t made them in a while.”
“Reminds me of Jeffrey. We met buying polvorones. Please don’t mention that I bought them at the store. No one needs to know that.”
“Of course not.” I hid my smile.
“But I made them for Hank’s birthday this year.” She moved the last few to the cooling rack. “We’ll pack these up and tomorrow, you can take Hank a snack. He’s on shift.”
“You want me to take them to the fire station?”
She patted my cheek. “That’s exactly what I want.”
I nodded. If it gave me any chance of winning Hank, I’d do it. “Thanks for helping me.”
“Helping you? I want a granddaughter. Your brothers don’t seem to be good at that.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
She giggled. “See what you can do. You’re funny. Need me to explain it to you?”
“No, I don’t!” I stacked the cookies into a plastic container. “No more margaritas for you.”
Her smile fell away, and she rubbed my arm. “I’ll pray, and we’ll cook. He’ll come around.”
“I hope so.”
“And then I’ll pray some more.”
Her confidence in a happy ending—more like the lack thereof—made me want to cry. Again.
I hated crying.
That night, before crawling into bed, I called Aunt Joji. The call rolled to voicemail, which was probably for the best. “Hi. This is Nacha. I’m not sure if you are back in San Antonio yet, but I wanted to check in with you. I’d love to hear your story, and . . . I’ll fill you in on the rest when I see you.” I ended the call and crawled into bed, wearing Hank’s shirt. How many days could I wear it before getting disapproving looks from Cami and Haley?
I hadn’t even finished fluffing my pillow when my phone rang. Hank’s choice of ringtone played, and I fought tears again. “Hello.”
“I’m so glad you called. I just arrived back in town today. Are you free tomorrow night?” Aunt Joji sounded as bubbly as ever. Clearly, she hadn’t learned of my horrible selfishness.
“Yes. Just let me know where to meet you. I was going to get a cooking lesson from my mother, but I’ll let her know I need to reschedule.” Why was I telling all of this to Aunt Joji?
“Cooking lesson? I want to come.” Was there anything the woman didn’t attempt?
Mama loved having people in her kitchen. But I couldn’t imagine two women more different than Mama and Aunt Joji. Seeing them together would be entertaining.
“Sure. I’ll text you the address and meet you there about six. If that works.”
“Perfect. Let me know what to bring.”
Introducing Aunt Joji to my mother felt reckless and dangerous. But with both of them on my side, how could I lose my bid for rekindling love?
“I’m looking forward to seeing you again.” I wasn’t looking forward to telling her Hank hated me.
“And I’m looking forward to hearing the rest.” Aunt Joji sighed. “Am I going to like the news?”
“No. Do you have a minute?”
“As many as you need.”
Rather than making her wait, I told her what I’d done and how Hank had reacted.
She chuckled. “The two of you are quite the pair. So, um, the cooking lessons . . .”
“That’s part of my plan for winning Hank back. It’s all I know to do.”
“It’s a good start. The man does like to eat. See you tomorrow night.” Aunt Joji hung up.
I slid under the covers and shot off one last text before turning off the light.
Hank, I’m sorry.
I didn’t expect an answer. I just hoped he wouldn’t block my number.
Chapter 12
Staying parked along the street outside the fire station was only going to draw attention. I needed to muster my courage and deliver the polvorones. The problem was, I hadn’t figured out what to say.
Maybe I should’ve waited until he called me. Since he hadn’t, he probably still thought my name tasted like overcooked, boiled veggies. What a description. He hated overcooked veggies.
If I went home without delivering the cookies, Mama would give me an earful. I glanced at the plastic tub full of sweets. Eating all the polvorones myself was an option. And I considered it. But then I’d have cookie crumbs and sugar all over my car.
Before I gave into my cowardice and cookie temptation, I pulled into the lot. The crew was outside, grilling and tossing horseshoes.
Aware that I was being watched, I smoothed my dress as I stepped out of the car. Not wanting to be the center of attention had to take a backseat to my desire to see Hank. If I showed up at his house, he might not even answer the door. But here? He couldn’t pull his normal avoidance tactics—tactics I’d also mastered. And he was too much a gentleman to be rude to me even if he wasn’t happy to see me.
I flashed my best smile and held up the container full of cookies. “Is Hank around? I brought him some goodies.”
Some of the guys clapped.
A tall one, blonde and built, waved. “I hope he shares. Let me get him.”
He stepped into the building, and Hank emerged a minute later. He wasn’t as happy to see me as the other guys were.
Determined to keep my promise to my mother, I marched up to him. “I thought you might like some polvorones.”
His gaze snapped to the container. “You made them?”
“Mama taught me. I thought you might like them.”
“This doesn’t make us right.” Reaching to take them, he gave me the once over. “Thanks.”
I caught his arm before he stepped away. “Mind if I bring you food again?”
“It’s a free country. I’m sure the guys would love free food.” He shrugged, staring at my fingers on his arm.
“You feel good.” I gave his bicep a squeeze.
What I really meant was that I missed him. I missed touching him and kissing him. All his working out hadn’t gone unnoticed. But I’d love him even without all those toned, hard muscles.
“Bye, Nacha.” He poppe
d the lid off and stuck a cookie in his mouth. He was probably trying to decide if he would share.
A guy with dark hair and even darker eyes ran over. “Hank, you going to introduce us to your . . .”
The complete lack of subtlety made me want to laugh. But I didn’t.
“Nope.” Hank turned and walked away.
I strolled to my car. Now he knew I was thinking about him, and I’d given the guys something to talk about. That was the best I could hope for on my first attempt.
The delivery had been made. I swung by the house and grabbed clothes before heading to Mama’s. I stayed in my dress. Mama and Aunt Joji would appreciate seeing what I’d worn to deliver the cookies.
The unfamiliar car in the driveway had to be Aunt Joji’s. Introducing her to Mama might be the biggest mistake of my life, but I needed all the help I could get.
“I made it. There was quite a bit of traffic coming back from Stadtburg.”
Mama wiped her hands on her apron as she walked into the living room. “Look at you!”
“Aren’t you all fancy? That dress fits you very well.” Aunt Joji popped her hands on her hips. “Was that the idea?”
“We made cookies last night. I delivered them to Hank at the station.”
Aunt Joji tossed her head back and laughed. “I am impressed. Josefina, your daughter has spunk.”
“She knows what she wants.” Mama smiled and pointed to the kitchen. “Let’s get started. I’m already hungry, and we haven’t even started cooking.”
Aunt Joji rubbed her hands together. “I can’t wait.”
“Let me change. I may need this dress again.” I walked to the guest bedroom.
After pulling on jeans and a t-shirt, I stared into the mirror. There was no easy remedy for what I’d done. I wouldn’t win Hank back with a few well-seasoned dishes. But I couldn’t give up.
I made sure my ringer was turned on and set on the highest volume. If he called, I’d answer. No matter what.
When I walked into the kitchen, I checked my texts. Hank hadn’t even said if he liked the cookies.
I tapped out a quick text and sent it to him. I keep thinking about how good it felt to be snuggled on your side of the bed.
The man had the nerve to reply with a thumbs up.
“He’s so stubborn.” I set my phone on the counter.
Mama and Aunt Joji laughed. “Pot meet kettle.”
“I know. I know. Show me what to do.” I pointed at the beef. “We’re making carne guisada, right?”
“Yes. You can start by cubing that into small pieces.” Mama filled three glasses with iced tea.
Aunt Joji watched over my shoulder. “All day, I’ve been thinking about how to help you without getting in the middle of things.”
“I’m open to ideas.” Thinking back to Haley’s wedding, and all the mistakes I’d made, all the chances I’d given up, I shook my head. “I just hope I didn’t wait too long. I’m not sure how . . .” Crying into the food would be gross. I blinked away my tears. “I really need to figure out what will work.”
“I mentioned to Haley that we needed to get together as a family more often. It’s only the three of us left. And you and Zach.” Aunt Joji turned to Mama. “And Josefina, you are always welcome at any of these family gatherings.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“Anyway, what if we all gathered for Christmas?” She patted my shoulder. “We could go back to the resort.”
Sitting in front of a crackling fire and snuggling against Hank sounded like the perfect way to spend the holiday. “That’s a great idea. Check with Haley, and if that works for them, I’m all in.”
Christmas with Hank would be the best gift ever, but that wouldn’t give him much time to get past the hurt. And I knew—because I was a master at nursing my pain—hurt could last a long time.
“I’ll have to let Haley talk to Hank. He’s still not taking my calls.” She waved a hand. “That man doesn’t know who to be angry with.”
Once the meat was simmering on the stove, Mama took over and showed us how to make Spanish rice. “The meat has to cook for over an hour. I figured we’d be hungry, so I made a batch earlier.” She lifted the lid off a pan on the back burner. “When the rice is ready in fifteen minutes, we’ll eat.”
“That’s why it already smells so good in here.” Aunt Joji inhaled. “Just divine.”
I hugged Mama. “Tastes even better.”
I’d been spoiled growing up with such a great cook as a mother.
We all settled around the table, our plates full of food. “Aunt Joji, I’d love to hear your story. Especially the part about being just like me.”
She laughed. “So many years ago. But yes. Once upon a time I met my prince. His name was Oscar. He stole my heart, and he wanted to marry me. But instead of holding down a regular job, he tinkered with stuff in his garage and worked a side job to cover the bills. I was afraid that to others he seemed lazy. And they would think I was stupid for marrying him, so I held off giving him an answer. My heart and my head didn’t agree.”
I dropped my tortilla and leaned forward. “What happened?”
“That man had the audacity to die before I could answer him.” She wiped at a tear. “And in his will, he’d left everything to me.”
“That’s terrible.” Mama jumped up and grabbed a box of tissues.
“And those things he tinkered with . . . the patents ended up making a whole lot of money. It’s how I can travel and book entire resorts. I was so worried it would look like he couldn’t take care of me, and he’s taken care of me all these years.”
“It’s hard to imagine you worrying about what people think.” I dabbed a tissue to my eyes. “Do you want me to take the leftovers to Hank?” I gathered the dishes.
“No, dear. Give him a few days. No calls. No texts. No food.” Mama looked at Aunt Joji. “Do you agree?”
“Absolutely. Give him time to miss you. I’m guessing all the guys he works with will be talking about the cookies, so you’ll be on his mind. And I’ll call Haley tomorrow and ask her about Christmas.”
I hugged them both. “Thank you. For the cooking lesson. And for helping me.”
The next night I made the same thing, but with Mama looking over my shoulder.
“You need to be able to make it without me around. He needs to know that you cooked it.”
“Are you going to make me make this every night this week?”
“Not tomorrow. Joji and I have plans. You can practice at home.”
“I’ll make more cookies. Where are y’all going?”
“Out. Maybe dancing.” She wiped the counter and didn’t look up.
I replayed her words in my head. “Did you say dancing?”
“We’ll be listening to music. I don’t know if anyone will ask me to dance. If it goes well, we may go out on Thursday also.”
“Have I created a monster?” I couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone out for fun.
To her, the grocery store was entertainment.
Mama smiled. “I made a new friend. And she’s fun!”
“Aunt Joji is that.”
Chapter 13
Friday night, I made carne guisada—again—while Mama and Aunt Joji sipped margaritas and recounted their adventures from last night.
“Then tall, dark, and handsome strolls up and tips his hat to your mother, and she giggles. Oh my. He loved that. Then he asked her to dance, and she left me alone most of the night.” Aunt Joji turned to face Mama. “What time is he picking you up tomorrow?”
My mother’s cheeks turned a fiery red. “Seven. Dinner and dancing.”
“I’m a wee bit jealous. Maybe one day, I’ll find my own cowboy.” Aunt Joji took a bite of food. “Nacha, this is wonderful.”
“Thank you. I plan to cook it again tomorrow for Cami, just to make sure I can consistently get it to taste good.”
Mama nodded. “I have no doubt. This is perfect.”
I sat down at the ta
ble, amused by the quick friendship that had bloomed. “Aunt Joji, between your lack of shoes and the suitcases sitting in the guest room, I’m guessing you aren’t staying at the hotel anymore.”
“Why would she? I have plenty of room.” Mama grinned. “Having her around makes me feel young again.”
Aunt Joji lifted her glass. “Hear, hear. I feel the same way.”
Even if I didn’t feel like laughing, it was nice to be around happy people. Grumpiness didn’t have a chance to survive around Aunt Joji. And Mama’s kitchen was the epitome of comfort.
As the evening continued, Aunt Joji shared stories from her travels.
My thoughts drifted to the tickets for Madrid. The dates were set for late spring. Would I need to change the reservations? Was there any possibility Hank and I would go there for our second honeymoon?
I’d passed the cooking test for one dish—two if you counted the rice. I still had so much to do. And Hank hadn’t called.
While the new best friends giggled and jabbered about plans for tomorrow night, I cleaned the kitchen. Seeing Mama so happy warmed my heart. Hopefully, my brothers wouldn’t be bothered by her dating again.
Saturday night, I thought about Mama while I made carne guisada and Spanish rice. She was so excited about her date. I hoped her date would go well. It was an odd feeling being nervous about my mama’s love life.
I lifted the lid on the rice and smiled. The texture was perfect. “Cami, you are in for a treat!”
“I can’t wait. You’ve talked about it so much. I can’t believe you’re making it again.”
“I wanted to be sure I could do it without my Mama around.” I set plates on the table.
Cami jumped up when the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it. You expecting anyone?”
“Nope. And it’s late for a door-to-door salesman.”
“Exciting.” She grinned and ran out of the kitchen. “Oh, hi! Nacha, there’s a hottie at the door. He looks like the guy in the pictures hanging in the hallway.”
“Be there in a few.” I hurried to my room. If I’d had any inkling Hank would show up at the door, I wouldn’t have been wearing a ratty, baggy sweatshirt.
Two Words I'd Never Say Again Page 8