Page 133 of The Problem with Dating

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The day was packed with laughter, apple cider cocktails, and a perfectly burnt turkey, which was replaced with frozen pizzas. The last time I was in a house with so much laughter was when Teresa danced in the kitchen of her place with music blasting out of the speakers.

When the table was set, I noticed a few extra settings for the meal. I raised my eyebrow as I took my seat beside Yara, who was the only one in the room so far. All the others ordered me to stop trying to help and to sit down since I was a guest. “Are more people coming?” I asked.

“No. Those are for the ones we wish could be here today,” she explained. She pointed at the first plate. “My mother.” She gestured to the next. “And Teresa.”

“I love you,” I said without thought. It was as if my heart had robbed my tongue and spoke of its own accord. I hesitated for a moment as fear tried to slip in, but at that very point, fear had no way to exist due to the amount of love I felt. For the first time in a long time, I felt alive again. I felt whole. I felt…in love. “I love you,” I echoed. The words somersaulted from my tongue, landing into the atmosphere. “I’m sorry, I just, I know that’s fast and odd and too much probably, seeing as we only met a few months ago, but I…I love you, Yara.”

She reached a hand slowly across to me and placed it against my cheek. She pulled me in closer and brushed her lips against mine. “I love you, too.”

That was what I was thankful for the most that year—Yara’s love. I hadn’t even known I was missing so much until I found her and her passion.

The rest of the group joined us, and Matthew said grace over the food before we dove into what was one of the worst-tasting meals of my life, but I didn’t care. Too much joy was spread around to care about the inedible dishes in front of us.

Watching Yara’s family reminded me of what made a house into a home. It was the people. The laughter. The lives. The love.

I needed that family on that Thanksgiving Day to show me once again that even after loss, life could return once more. And houses could once again begin to feel like home.

* * *

After dinner, I headed outside to the back porch to get a breath of fresh air. I wanted a small moment to breathe in and out and think about everything that had happened over the past year. I’d thought of the saddest days, and I thought of the best ones. The ups and downs. The heartbreak and the heart repairs.

“Are you all right, Alex?” Tatiana asked as she stepped onto the back porch with me.

I sniffled a bit, turning around to face her. “Yeah, I’m good. I just needed a moment of air.”

She held a little chest in her hands. “I have something for you.”

“What is it?”

“Teresa gave it to me to give to you. She told me to deliver it on a good day, and I think today is a good day.”

I arched an eyebrow, perplexed about what Tatiana meant. “What do you mean Teresa told you to give it to me?” My brows knitted. “You knew my aunt?”

“When I was a little girl,” she mentioned. “My family called me Ana.”

My chest tightened as the realization settled in. “You’re the little girl Teresa nannied?”

“That’s me.” She chuckled as she showed me the locket around her neck. The one I’d read about in Teresa’s diary. “The one and only.”

What in the world was happening?

“Tatiana… I’m a bit confused,” I told her.

She nodded. “Yeah, I know. I figured as much. About a year ago, Teresa showed up to me with these letters. I remembered her the moment she smiled my way. She had that kind of smile. The kind a person could never forget. We caught up for a while, and she told me she was sick and didn’t have much time left. Then she asked me if I could do something for her great-nephew.”

I stood taller, trying to force my knees not to buckle in. “What did she want you to do?”

“Make sure you got to know a sweet girl named Yara Kingsley. She and Mr. Parker both came together over the past few years through these letters they sent back and forth with one another. They were almost certain that you and Yara were meant to at least meet one another, and perhaps be friends, so they started scheming up a way to get you both to meet. Insert Feliz. Teresa knew you’d keep the dog, and Mr. Parker knew Yara would help you train him. These are the letters, and Teresa told me to give them to you on a good day. Today felt right.”

I took the small chest from Tatiana, with my mind still spinning at the reveal of what was happening.

Tatiana was Ana.

Teresa was her nanny.

And I was so confused.

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