Page 106 of Guava Flavored Lies

“You don’t have to answer that,” Lauren repeated, her eyes on Sylvie.

“They were about as enthusiastic as you and Lauren’s mom probably were,” she replied with a knowing smirk.

He laughed. “That’s fair.”

“I’m sure everybody is going to come around,” Lauren said, hoping the law of attraction was real and she could just manifest her way to a peaceful existence.

“Sure thing,” her dad agreed. “These generational feuds just have a way of fizzling out, don’t they?”

“Papi,” Lauren scolded. “I don’t think now is the time for your sarcasm.”

He shoveled a mouthful of lasagna into his mouth. After a few chews, he shrugged. “Well for what it’s worth, my support can be bought with carbs and caffeine.”

Sylvie smiled, her shoulders relaxed. “Duly noted.”

Lauren tried to keep her expanding chest from exploding. She knew the harder task would be getting their parents to be civil with each other, but in that moment, sitting with Sylvie and her father while enjoying a meal together felt like a monumental accomplishment.

They’d only gotten a third of the way through their lunch when the contractor knocked on the door.

Lauren wiped her mouth with a napkin and stood. As she did, Sylvie and her father followed, setting their plates on the counter. Her father followed her to the door while Sylvie covered the plates with foil she produced from a roll in her magic bag.

What the hell else is in that thing?

“Fernando,” Lauren greeted as she opened the door. “Come in.”

The man, tall and heavyset, came in while talking on a Bluetooth earpiece. He gave them a cursory wave before pointing to his ear, as if somehow they’d missed that he was on a call.

“Pendejo,” Lauren’s dad muttered before returning to his plate. “Thank you,” he said when he noticed Sylvie had covered his plate and put it on top of the hot lasagna tray to keep it warm.

Sylvie was standing stock still and glaring at Fernando.

The hairs on the back of Lauren’s neck stood on end. She’d seen that wild look in Sylvie’s eye before. Knew what would come from her rigid posture. Understood how quickly she was red-zoning as she marched around the counter toward the unsuspecting man who’d wandered into the corner of the bakery to finish his conversation.

“Sylvie.” Lauren reached out, taking her hand to stop her advance. “Just leave it. He’s—”

A war cry rang out in Sylvie’s eyes. Slowly Lauren removed her hand one finger at a time.

“Excuse me,” Sylvie said, there was no question in her tone as she looked up at the man that was a solid foot taller than her.

“I’ll be right with you,” he replied, openly annoyed.

“You’ll be with me now or you’ll leave,” she replied with a chilling ease in her voice. Her calm demeanor was a terrible sign.

Lauren looked back at her dad, who was so amused he’d put his food down as if ready for a show.

“Who are you?” Fernando asked dismissively, not knowing the fury he was bringing upon himself.

Sylvie glanced over her shoulder. With a look, she asked for permission to unleash what she was holding back.

With a quick nod, Lauren gave her the go ahead. Her pounding heart threatening to combust. Fighting perceived injustice really was Sylvie’s calling, and maybe even her love language.

“I’m the person telling you to get off the phone and treat us with basic respect or leave.” Sylvie propped her hands on her hips.

Fernando looked over Sylvie’s head, ignored Lauren all together, and glanced at her father. “Jose, brother, what kind of game are we playing here?”

Her father raised his hands in front of his chest. “Don’t talk to me, brother, she’s the boss with the checkbook.” He glanced at Lauren.

With an eye roll, Fernando muttered into his earpiece.

---