Page 46 of Resurrection
Mom sets the knife on the counter and moves to the living room to check. She flicks her wrist toward the bottom like I can read her mind. I guess I can mostly. We’ve done this so many times, I can predict what she’s thinking before she even says it.
"You hid Dad's gift?" I say flinging the cabinet doors open. The set is indeed there. It used to be behind the glass in the top cabinet where the glasses are. I wonder when she moved it out of sight. I wonder why too.
"And put more napkins," Mom adds. "You know how messy your brother gets."
"Did he say what time he’s coming?"
"Seven." Mom returns to the kitchen to finish whatever she was doing while I retrieve the set.
Forget about the kiss.
Forget about those blue eyes.
Forget about how it made you feel in all the right places.
This is the mantra I repeat as I continue with my task.
I lay out the forks when I hear a car engine roaring outside, then the bell rings. I know it’s not Adri. Adri doesn’t announce himself. He just barrels in.
Mom has just set a bowl of salad on the table and is the one to answer the door. She's wiping her hands on her apron as she crosses the room.
"Hi, Mrs. Medina," a man on the porch says. My heart starts to beat faster. "I was in the area. I just thought I’d?—"
"Oh my goodness, Tyler!" Mom’s voice is warm and delighted. "You come in here,mijo."
It’s so strange to hear her thrilled about something these days.
"Is Naomi around, by any chance?"
What is he doing here? How dare he?
I move to the door, where Tyler's standing, wearing that lopsided smile, with a little bouquet of flowers in one hand. They’re pink and yellow, the cheerful kind you get from a grocery store.
"Look who dropped by," Mom says excitedly, nudging him toward the dining area.
"Hi." He glances at me like he’s expecting something—probably not the frosty stare I give him.
"What are you doing here, Ty?" I ask, flat and unfriendly, my fists on my hips.
"Was passing by," he supplies as he hands the bouquet to my mom.
She takes the flowers, her face glowing. "How thoughtful! Thank you, Tyler. God knows we could use some color in this house." She rushes off to find the right vase for them. "You’re just in time for dinner! Wash your hands!" Her voice carries through the room as she turns on the water.
"Oh, I didn’t mean to impose." He scratches the back of his neck, looking unsure.
"Damn right," I grit out low enough for my mom not to hear it.
"Of course you’ll stay." She doesn’t take no for an answer, returning to thedining area with her favorite red vase with the flowers in it. She puts them in the middle of the table like a centerpiece. "I made tamales." She shoos him toward the sink. "You know we always have extra. Plus, this is Grandma’s special recipe."
He looks at me again, but I turn away without saying a word, pretending the napkin placement is the most important task in the world. I know he’ll do the opposite of what I want him to anyway. And I know it’s not for his sake, but for my mother’s. She’s lonely, and Tyler Brady was always her little ray of sunshine since Adri is anything but.
If Letty Medina has someone in her sights she wants to fuss over and feed, it’s tough to say no to her.
"Are you sure that’s okay, Mrs. Medina?"
"Sweet boy." She pats his back gently. "Of course it’s okay. You’ve been part of this family ever since my son brought you in twenty years ago."
"Twenty-one," I correct solemnly.
