Page 54 of Matched

“Perfectly clear,” Inara responds.

“One hundred percent,” I say.

“Then let’s eat!” Taya shouts.

As everyone starts grabbing empanadas and piling other food on their plates, I stand off to the side and study peoples’ reactions as they take their first bites. No one balks, but I can’t really decipher who is enjoying which batch more. Of course, Bear is standing with a plate full of food, but he’s still talking, so I head off toward him. Of course, he’s droning on about Leslie’s costume plans for Halloween and what they’ll be dressing up as, and all I want to do is pick up and empanada and shove it into that big hole he calls a mouth.

The smell of perfectly seasoned meat combined with soft fresh corn dough is enough to distract me, so I grab a plate and start piling on food, starting with my own empanadas because I need the taste of home right now. The first bite is simply delicious, and pride fills my chest. Another one and I’m hit with a flood of memories and emotions, equal parts wonderful and heartbreaking. I remember laughter at the dinner table. My sisters giggling and sneaking bites of empanadas before they’re ready. Mamá shooing them away from the oven with an exasperated grin. My dad coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Your mamá makes the best empanadas in the world, don’t you ever forget it,” my dad would say every time, like clockwork, and we’d all chime in with our agreement.

What would she think of all this if she were here? No doubt in my mind she’d love Inara. But what about Apá? Would my mother be okay with the way I’d cut him out? The way I’ve included my teammates on important decisions in my life, yet I hadn’t even returned his phone call from earlier today?

Grief and shame mix below the surface for an instant. Then more memories flood my brain, and the remorse turns to resentment. Because after the good times, came the times when my mother grew too weak to make empanadas by herself, so I would assemble them while she directed me from a chair, her bony frame looking frail. Her once-boisterous voice thin and her cheeks pale. Then one day she was no longer there at all. Her vivid, beautiful presence, just gone, leaving the once-warm kitchen cold and empty. And when she disappeared, my dad did too. I didn’t lose one parent the day Mamá died. I lost two. My dad abandoned us emotionally, right when I needed him most.

The familiar anger is a comfort as it chases away my regret. In this moment, reliving all the trauma of the past, I’m grateful I never committed to my dad’s harebrained idea when he first called about the fundraiser. I’m still not ready to deal with his desertion. Not now. Not today. Maybe never. Only time will tell.

I scan the area until my gaze falls on Inara and, the second she turns and smiles at me, something in my chest loosens. I bathe in the relief that washes over me for several long moments before the reality of my actions hits me, causing my lungs to compress again. When did I become so reliant on her? Start looking to her for reassurance? Because getting too comfortable in this relationship is dangerous. Good things never last.

I shake off the unsettling feeling, telling myself I’m making a mountain out of a molehill. Yeah, I felt a boost in my mood when Inara smiled at me, so what? That doesn’t mean I’m getting too attached. My wife is hotter than hell, and I’d challenge any red-blooded man to stand in my shoes and not feel the same way. We’re talking empanadas here. Not a lifelong commitment. But enough of that. Today, with my friends around me, with my chosen family who have never abandoned me in my time of need, with my wife, I choose to focus on this—my mom would be so damn proud of these empanadas.

I push away the uncomfortable idea she might not be proud of other things and instead focus on a squirrel that scurries down a nearby tree trunk, his nose twitching. Even the wildlife knows these empanadas are something special.

I catch Inara’s gaze on me and smile a “thank you” I hope she can read in my expression. Then I wink at her as I lift my plate because it’s time for sentiment to be over and ass-kicking to start. “You ready to find out what a real empanada tastes like?”

“You ready to taste defeat?” Inara gestures to her own plate.

Marge and Taya are breaking into my ground-beef ones and I smile as the steam rises when they crack them open, the dough crumbling a tiny bit. Taya closes her eyes as she swallows and practically moans. “These are so good.”

Bear just picks up his empanada and shoves the whole thing into his mouth. So much for savoring his food. When I turn to Inara, she grabs one of my empanadas from the tray and bites into it. Her eyes close as she chews slowly, as if she’s savoring every last ingredient, and a small sigh escapes her mouth.

Hell fuckin’ yeah. I won for sure.

My focus returns to the judges as Marge bites into one of Inara’s empanadas, then reaches for her water and takes a big gulp. “This is a bit spicy but also so good.”

Jim breaks into a coughing fit, his face turning red as he reaches for his own water. “Fucking Christ, Inara. What the hell did you put in this?”

Inara snorts. “Not my fault you can’t handle spicy.”

I grab one of her empanadas and bite into it. The chicken is juicy and soft. The salsa is cooked down into a chunky sauce with bites of habanero. The heat is rounded out by the masa. I shove the rest into my mouth. “Damn, Inara. This is good.”

Everyone continues to pile food into their mouths as they chat among themselves, discussing who to vote for. Some, like Taya and Craiger, are more adventurous and are eating Inara’s empanadas, while others like Jim are playing it safe and sticking to mine. Once the votes are tallied, Taya stands. “And the winner is... Tony!”

Inara rushes over and gives me a tight squeeze and kisses me on the cheek. “Congrats. They were really good.”

Inara and I head up to the designated food table by the grills and grab some ice cream and a bottled water before settling down on an empty bench. She shovels a big spoonful of chocolate into her mouth, leaving a smudge on her upper lip. Just one more reason to keep her. After a moment of fidgeting with her treat, she straightens and turns to me. “I have to talk to you.”

“Uh-oh, sounds serious. Did I leave the toilet seat up again?” I’m in such a good mood right now. The sun is shining, and I’m outdoors, eating great food with my best friends. If Inara has a little gripe she needs to get off her chest, now is the perfect time. There’s nothing she can say right now that will bring me down.

She avoids my gaze and bites the corner of her lower lip. “Your dad called while you were in the shower the other day and I answered because I thought it might be an emergency. It wasn’t, don’t worry.”

My shoulders tense and I swallow hard. “And?”

“I, uh, kind of let the cat out of the bag. About the two of us being married.”

Air rushes from my lungs. “Did you ever stop to think there might be a reason I hadn’t told him yet?”

I run my palms down my face trying to process the information. Apá is undoubtedly hurt I haven’t told him about my wife. And God himself only knows the wrath I will incur from my sisters. I probably should have told my family, but ultimately, that’s my choice. My life. Not hers. A big part of the reason I didn’t tell them about Inara was because I knew they’d jump on the excuse to ramp up their calls. Or worse, try to enlist Inara to help reconnect the family. Hopefully, my wife would never do something like that behind my back.

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