Page 21 of Landon & Shay: Part One

That was my least favorite part of having parties—the aftermath. Even though I knew Maria would’ve come and left the place spotless, she didn’t deserve that cleanup. Contrary to how I felt about Shay, I adored her grandmother. It was pretty hard not to love Maria. She was feisty and unapologetic about her strong, bold personality. I was certain that was where Shay got her spitfire from. I didn’t know why it worked so well with me from Maria, though. Maybe it had something to do with the nurturing side of her personality, the gentleness and care she gave me when I didn’t even deserve it. Or maybe it had to do with the fact that I never knew my grandmother and always wondered what it would have been like to have one.

It probably had something to do with her always showing up with food, though. The food certainly helped.

Sundays were my favorite day of the week, because it meant Maria was coming over to clean the house. She’d been our housekeeper for the past seven years and was one of the better parts of my life.

When Maria came over that Sunday afternoon, she smiled bright my way. She was always smiling, always humming some tune in her head whenever she walked inside.

“You look like poop, Landon,” she stated, carrying a dish of food in her hands. “You need to sleep.”

“I’m working on it.”

“Liar.”

My eyes moved to the dish.

Please be lasagna, please be lasagna, please be—

“I made a lasagna for dinner,” she said.

Yes!

It was my favorite meal in the history of meals—besides Maria’s enchiladas. Maria’s food was the highlight of every single week. It was like she baked everything with pounds of her heart and soul, adding an extra touch.

“You’ve been sleeping this weekend?” she asked.

“Yeah, pretty good.”

“More lies. You have bigger bags under your eyes than I do, and I’m like four hundred years old.”

“Oh please, Maria. You don’t look a day over thirty.”

She smiled. “I always liked you, you know that, right?” She handed the dish over to me and instructed me to put it in the refrigerator. “What did you do last night?”

“Just hung out with Greyson. Nothing major. Video games and stuff. Very low-key.”

“No party?”

I smiled. I couldn’t lie to her again, and she knew it, too.

“How are your grades doing, Landon Scott?”

I swore, Maria was the only one I ever allowed to get away with calling me by my middle name. I actually kind of liked that she used it, too. It felt like it made our relationship somewhat personal, more than client-and-employer status.

“They’re good.”

“And have you chosen a major for your fall college courses yet?” she asked.

She already knew the answer to that, and she still always asked. I’d gotten into the University of Chicago Law School, per my father’s request, and I was supposed to go ahead and follow in his footsteps. I went along with it because what the hell else was I supposed to do? I didn’t know what I wanted to be, so it made it a little easier having my father tell me what to become.

College didn’t really seem to be something I could completely wrap my head around. I didn’t have any idea what I truly wanted to be when I grew up. I didn’t have the slightest urge to go after one certain thing, which made it so hard for me. I didn’t have a passion. How was I supposed to decide what to do with my life? I could hardly pull myself out of bed each morning. So, I’d just listen to my father and follow after his footsteps. Sure, his life seemed boring and closed-off, but at least he was successful. He must’ve done something right during that college phase of his life.

“You can go undecided,” Maria said gently, as if she could read my thoughts. “You don’t have to know everything right this second. You just need to decide on a few topics you think could make you grow the best. You’re a smart, talented young man, Landon. You could do anything if you put in the work, and it doesn’t have to be law just because your father said it should be.”

“You don’t think I’d make a good lawyer?” I joked.

“You’d make a good anything. I just want you to be passionate about it.”

I kept quiet because I didn’t want to spoil the mood by notifying Maria that I wasn’t passionate about anything.

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