Page 118 of If It Can't Be Us

“What are you doing?” Vivian asks, her brows furrowed.

“I’m making my special taco sauce. You’re going to love it.”

“That’s not taco sauce; that’s fry sauce. And fry sauce doesn’t belong on a taco.”

“I don’t know what the hell fry sauce is, babe, but this is taco sauce, and it will elevate the experience of the taco.”

She laughs. “I’m not putting fry sauce on my taco. That’s a Utah thing—ketchup and mayonnaise. It’s been used and served as fry sauce forever here.”

“No,” I rebut, “this is the Weston taco sauce. It’s been made for generations for tacos. I’m serious, it’s so good. Once you go Weston taco sauce, you’ll never go back.”

Needing to prove it to her, I fix up a taco, holding it to her mouth. “Take a bite, babe.”

She backs away. “No, I’m not eating fry sauce on a taco. It’s an abomination!”

I keep my taco steady in front of her mouth as she maneuvers away, laughing. She gets backed up against a wall, and I playfully shove a corner of the taco into her mouth. She takes a bite, chews thoughtfully, and curses under her breath, trying to hold back a smile.

“Ha! I knew you’d like it! How’s that humble pie taste? You want some more?”

She just laughs, takes a drink of her water and proceeds to make her taco, using the sauce. “I feel like I’m cheating on fry sauce,” she says, glancing in my direction. “Remind me, by the way, never to marry you. After that spectacle, you’ll be the guy who smashes the cake in the bride’s face.”

We’re quiet for a moment while we meticulously put together our tacos.

“No.” I stop what I’m doing. “I would never do that.”

She looks at me confused.

“I would never smash the cake in your face, babe.” Turning back to my taco, I add, “I just thought you should know that.”

She pauses, her expression softening. “Good to know,” she says, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “But I’m still keeping an eye on you.”

I grin, “Fair enough.”

As we finish making our tacos, I can’t help but think that moments like this are what make life so damn great.

* * * * ** * * * *

The next day

“I’m just warning you, my dad can be a lot,” she says nervously as we walk up the porch steps to her parents’ home.

It’s a beautiful house, backed up against a mountainside with a gorgeous view of trees and mountain peaks.

“His job can be really stressful. When he’s home, he becomes completely unhinged.”

I laugh. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I can’t explain it. He just gets weird. He’ll belt out songs and make inappropriate jokes or comments. It drives my mom nuts, but I think she loves it at the same time.” She pauses to laugh. “You’ll see what I mean.”

She reaches for the door handle, opening the oversized oak door. Stepping inside, we’re immediately greeted by Vivian’s mom as she sweeps Vivian into a hug, then turns to me with her arm extended.

“Hi Leo, I’m Jackie. I’ve heard so much about you,” she says, giving a side glance to Vivian. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise, it’s great to be here. Thank you for having me.”

“Wow, you really are as handsome as Vivian has made you out to be,” Jackie says, looking back and forth between the two of us.

“You hear that, Viv? Apparently, I’m handsome,” I tease, nudging her.

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