Page 93 of Not in My Book

“Por supuesto.”

“Why’d you name her Rosalinda? I’ve always loved her name.”

I smiled to myself. I must’ve heard this story a million times growing up.

“Oh, she loves this story.” I could hear the smile in my mom’s voice. “She used to make me tell it to her every night before bed,” she said wistfully. “It’s because of her father. I used to work at the flower shop downtown during college. Eric came in one day looking to buy roses for his mother. He bought a bouquet, then pulled a single rose out and handed it to me. He came in nearly every day after that. He always bought one rose, handed it to me after he paid, then walked out.

“Soon after we started dating, roses became our thing. When we got married, he had a rose in his lapel. When I found out I was pregnant, I called him at work and left a worried voicemail. I came home to dozens of roses scattered across our kitchen and living room.” She laughed softly at the memory. “There seemed to be no option but to name our first child Rose if she was a girl.

“I pushed for Rosalinda, though,” she whispered. “I don’t know if you picked up on it, but our Rosie is a little bit of a romantic.”

“Really? She’s never brought it up,” Aiden said.

Mom laughed. I could picture her leaning forward, the light shining in her eye. “She’s named after my mother, her lita. My dadlovedher name, he always called her Rosalindita. Sheadoredtelenovelas. She and my dad used to sit on the couch watching them so intensely. When Rosie discovered my romance novels, I thought it was destiny—that a love of romance was in all our DNA. I had learned English from a lot of those romance novels going back and forth between Peru and Tennessee during the holidays. I must’ve read all the ones at the airport. I used to find copies of the books in Spanish and compare the pages until I understood the ones in English just as well. My mother passed away when Rosie was a kid, but they had a cosmic connection. Like they were an extension of each other. Even from the first time my mom laid eyes on her.”

“Why Rosie and not Rose?”

The pure curiosity in Aiden’s voice formed a knot in the back of my throat. I was so touched that he was taking an interest in me like this, that he was being so kind to my mom.

“Rosie was born with a faint blush on her cheeks and a smile. One look at her and it was obvious she was a Rosie.” A comfortable silence fell between them, but it didn’t last long. “I’ve been worried about her ever since she left. But you’re good for her. I can see she’s okay now that she’s got you.”

“She was great before she had me. She has everything under control all the time, it seems. I’m always in awe of her.”

My heart warmed hearing that. For as much as Aiden had insulted me throughout the year, it was nice to know he thought so highly of me. That he thought I was way more put together than I felt.

I opened the bathroom door. “Good morning,” I said shyly. Aiden and my mom were sitting on the couch, still in their pajamas. “Merry Christmas. Where are Maria and Dad?”

“They’re getting bagels for everyone,” my mom said. “Do you mind if I slip in there to shower?”

“It’s all yours.”

Once Aiden and I were alone, silence fell between us. He had an extreme case of bed head that made him look so young andcasual.I took my mom’s place on the couch next to Aiden, tucking one leg under me.

“Aiden, look, I want to apologize—”

“Rosie.” He shook his head. “You don’t need to apologize. Best sleep I’ve had in years.”

“You’re just saying that.” I covered my face with my hands, mortified.

He gently took my hands into his own, pulling them away from my face. “I’m not. Except for when you started talking in your sleep.”

“Liar.” I narrowed my eyes.

“Every so often you’d say, ‘That’s so romantic,’ then start snoring.”

I pushed his shoulder, laughing. I didn’t want to have my heart ripped out of my chest again. I couldn’t give my everything to someone who didn’t want it and would throw away the spare parts. I just wouldn’t survive it. But I wantedwhateverI could get with Aiden. I was willing to let him stomp over my fragile little heart if that meant I got just a glimpse of his.

“I’m gonna head home, I think.”

“You don’t have to. I’m not sure what we’re going to do today, but you’re welcome to join us.”

He shook his head. “You’re on borrowed time with your family. I’ll see you next semester, okay?”

I sighed, knowing he was right. I’d regret it if I didn’t spend some quality time with my family before they left.

“Okay,” I relented. “I’ll walk you out.”

We were silent in the elevator ride down. It had snowed all night, the streets blanketed in white.

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