Page 62 of Mason Wilder
Tessa woke with a heaviness in her chest that she’d never felt before. It was the first fight she’d had with Mason. They’d known each other their entire lives and this was the first real argument they’d had. She stopped to think about it. How could they have grown up together and never fought? She’d had a million fights with Lucas. They still argued. But she’d never had words with Mason. Actually, Mason never argued with anyone. Not even with Lucas. She couldn’t even remember him fighting with his parents when he was a teenager.
Her cheeks flushed as she remembered the hurt in his eyes. He had felt betrayed by his father, and she should have supported him. Instead, she joined in the crusade, exactly what she swore she wouldn’t do, and she felt awful. She had been wrong. She had no right to get involved with his relationship with his birth mother. The uneasy feelings she had about things that transpired between her and Kendall were easily explained away, and she felt foolish for bringing them up. She should have minded her own business and let Mason form his own opinion about Kendall without bringing in her past history, just as he had said.
After the argument last night, things had been cold between them and Mason had been quiet. He had a lot on his mind, and Tessa felt he needed time alone to sort through everything, so she had gone home. Alone. Now she wished she would have stayed. She felt as if she ran out on him when he needed her, and that wasn’t something she did to anyone. She was the shoulder to lean on in time of need and crisis. She had let him down, and she felt horrible. She reached for her phone to call him, but there was already a text message from him, and she sighed with relief.
MASON: Sorry about yesterday. I didn’t mean to snap at you and I shouldn’t have let you leave. I’m a jerk. Forgive me?
Her heart melted and she sobbed a short laugh. She’d been the one prying into Kendall’s past, stirring up ill feelings, and he was the one apologizing. She wasn’t wasting time replying to his text message and called him. Some things needed to be said out loud. “I’m so sorry,” were the first words she said as soon as he answered the phone, tears welling in her eyes. “You were right. I shouldn’t have said anything. The past is the past for a reason. It’s best to leave it there and move forward, not go backwards. Can you ever forgive me?”
A breath came through the phone. “My sweet Tessa. I yelled at you last night and here you are practically groveling for forgiveness when all you did was look out for my best interests. I know you were only making sure I didn’t get hurt. I know you’re not malicious.”
“I pushed too much. Too hard. I’m so headstrong sometimes. I should have just voiced my concerns and let it be. I’m sorry, Mason.”
“You fight for your beliefs. You don’t back down. You defend those you love with every ounce of breath in your sweet little body. I love that about you.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks and a quivering smile permeated her lips. “Thank you for knowing me so well. Come over. I’ll make an early dinner. All your favorites.”
“You mean White Castle?” A smile punctuated his words.
She laughed, and sobbed a little. “If that’s what you want, I’ll serve them on a solid gold platter.”
“Aw, Tess. You know exactly how to get to me.” She imagined him putting his hand over his heart, wearing a dimpled smile that made her knees weak. “But I can have White Castle anytime. I want your home cooking. How about a nice big steak?”
“Anything you want. Give me some time to get everything ready. See you at 3:00?”
“Sounds great, babe. And, hey, Tess?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
She hung up filled with the excitement of a newly reunited couple, which was ridiculous because they were never separated. She ran to the local farmer’s market for fresh produce and then to the meat market for two beautiful medallions of filet mignon. She made appetizers oftostones with sofrito salsa and frituras de calabaza, because he loved those little pumpkin fritters so much, and set them aside until they were ready to drop into the deep fryer. She prepared Cuban-style mashed potatoes, prepared the red beans and rice, marinated the beef and set everything aside. She showered and still had time to make a fabulous dessert. She decided on a rum cake, whipped it up and set the table with her best china and crystal glasses while it baked. The timer dinged and she pulled the pans from the oven and placed the delicate sponge cake on racks to cool. She put together a fresh berry compote for the filling and placed it in the fridge to chill while she put together a buttercream frosting to cover the cake. Next, she rummaged through the cabinet drawers for her piping bag. When she couldn’t find it, she remembered she had left it at her parents’ house when she and Papi had a bake-athon two weeks ago. Oh, no! She wanted the cake to be beautiful, and disappointment deflated her spirits. It probably wouldn’t matter to Mason, but it mattered to her, so she called Papi right away. “Can you bring over my piping bag? I made Mason a cake and have nothing to decorate it with!” Could she be any more dramatic? She sounded as if it was the end of the world.
“How awful, sweetheart! I’ll bring it right over.”
No one took cooking and baking as serious as he did, and she smiled at the genuine alarm in his voice. Her mom said something in the background that was directed at her, but she missed it. “What did Mom say?”
“She said she has something for you. Something for your guitar case.”
It was the leather patches with the band’s logo, part of the new band merch they had designed, and she was excited that they were done. “Great! Tell her to bring them.”
“We’ll be there in 15 minutes”
Tessa buzzed the doorman and told him her parents were on the way and to let them up when they arrived. While she waited for them, she assembled the cake and covered it with a layer of buttercream. Once she added white rosettes, and maybe some heart-shaped scrolls, it would be spectacular. Right now it was lackluster and a little disproportionate.
The intercom buzzed and she pressed the button with annoyance. “Is it my parents? I already told you to send them up.”
“I’m sorry Miss Garcia. Jonathan stepped away. I’m filling in while he’s on break. There’s a woman here to see you—”
“That’s my mom. Send her up.” She left the door ajar and returned to the table setting. It was missing something, and then she remembered the heavy crystal candlesticks her Grandma and Grandpa Blade gave her as a housewarming gift. Most people would think it an odd gift for someone in their early twenties, but they were perfect and she loved them. They complimented the dinner setting. As she stood back and admired the table, she heard the door creak open and her mother’s high-heeled shoes on the hardwood floor. “I hope you remembered the piping bag.”
“What, honey?”
Startled by the unfamiliar voice, Tessa quickly turned around. “Kendall?” She dyed her hair, which was more shocking than the image of Kendall standing in front of the open door. “What are you doing here? How did you get past the doorman? He said my mother was here.”
Kendall presented a playful smile and waved a gloved hand with indifference. “He assumed I was your mother, and, well, I didn’t correct him. It’s not a big deal. Is it?”
