Page 65 of Faking It For Real

As if on cue, Elena appeared at my elbow, linking her arm through mine. "Ethan, come help in the kitchen. I need a tall person to reach the special platters."

I glanced at Mia, who nodded encouragingly. As Elena led me toward the kitchen, I heard one of Mia's aunts say something to her in rapid Spanish that made Mia's cheeks flush bright red.

The kitchen was a hub of activity—women of various ages chopped, stirred, and arranged food on colorful platters. I was immediately put to work reaching items from high shelves, stirring pots when instructed, and eventually helping to assemble tamales under the watchful eye of an elderly woman introduced as Aunt Carmen.

"No, no, like this," she corrected, showing me how to spread the masa on the corn husk. "Not too thick, not too thin."

My attempts were clumsy at best, but she nodded approvingly at my persistence. "He tries. That's good."

"My abuela says you have nice hands," a young cousin translated for a tiny, white-haired woman who was studying me intently. "Strong but gentle. Good for making babies."

I nearly choked on air, causing several women to laugh.

"Mamá!" Elena scolded the elderly woman, though she was fighting a smile. "Don't embarrass him."

"Es la verdad," Abuela shrugged unapologetically, adding something else in Spanish that made the kitchen erupt in laughter.

When Mia appeared in the doorway a few minutes later, she took one look at my flushed face and narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"What did you all say to him?" she demanded.

"Nothing, nothing," Elena insisted innocently. "Just getting to know your novio."

Mia's eyes widened slightly at the word—boyfriend—but she didn't correct her mother. Instead, she came to my rescue, pulling me away from the tamale assembly line.

"I'm saving you," she whispered. "Once they start talking about babies, it's all downhill from there."

"I don't mind," I replied honestly. "It's nice that they care."

Mia looked up at me, a complicated expression crossing her face. "You're full of surprises, Ethan Wright."

The rest of the day passed in a blur of food, laughter, and traditions I'd only read about online. We ate a feast that put my mother's Christmas dinner to shame—tamales, pozole, roasted meats, and endless side dishes. I tried everything, earning approving nods from Elena each time I asked for seconds.

The Kings' Cake—Rosca de Reyes—was brought out with great ceremony, a round sweet bread decorated with candied fruits. Miguel explained that whoever found the small plastic baby Jesus figurine hidden inside their slice would host a party on February 2nd, Candlemas Day.

"It's a big responsibility," he informed me gravely. "Last year, Tío Javier got it and tried to pretend he didn't. But Abuela knew. She always knows."

When it was my turn to receive a slice, I took a careful bite, aware of all eyes on me.

"He's being too careful," Gabriel laughed. "Take a real bite, muchacho! Life is not about caution."

I grinned and took a bigger bite—and promptly felt something hard against my tooth. I carefully removed it from my mouth: a tiny plastic baby Jesus.

The room erupted in cheers and laughter.

"¡El gringo tiene el niño!" someone called out, setting off another wave of laughter.

"What does this mean?" I asked Mia, holding up the tiny figure.

"It means you're hosting the Candlemas party," she explained, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Hope your apartment is big enough for this crowd."

"Or," Gabriel interjected, "it means you'll be back to celebrate with us again. The baby Jesus has spoken."

The warmth in his voice made something tighten in my chest. I looked around at the faces surrounding me—all smiling, all genuinely happy to include me in their tradition—and felt a sense of belonging I rarely experienced even in my own family home.

"I'd be honored," I said, and meant it.

Later, as the celebration continued, I found myself in the backyard with Miguel and some of the younger cousins, who had convinced me to join their impromptu soccer game. Despite my hockey skills, I was thoroughly outplayed by children half my size, much to their delight.

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