Page 44 of Brews & Bartenders

He breaks the kiss, pulling back the tiniest fraction. “Maybe this isn’t the best idea.” He’s panting and I know he wants this as much as I do. “We both have work tomorrow and David is inside sleeping.”

Damn it. He has a point. Why does he have to be the voice of reason? I press one last kiss to his lips and climb off him. From the bulge in his sweats, I wasn’t the only one turned on. “Fine, but we’ll need to continue this at some other point.”

“Agreed.” He stands and puts distance between us. “Also, I have an idea of how I can meet David in a lower pressure way.”

Talk about switching the subject. “And what is that?”

“Well, obviously it doesn’t need to be in a space where Nathan can show up. But, my mom does family dinners on Sunday nights. Y’all can come over for that and my sisters can play with David.”

“Aren’t they teenagers?”

“Yeah, but they want to meet both of you. And they are good with kids. They volunteer at any camps for smaller kids in their school district.”

“I don’t know.” The thought of meeting his family is terrifying, but he’s right. It’s low stress and David won’t be bored.

“If you feel uncomfortable you can leave. We can drive over together and I’ll meet him before the family, or you can come on your own and I’ll meet him there. It’s up to you.”

“Okay. I’ll let you know when it gets closer.” I glance at my watch and realize it’s past midnight. “I should probably go to bed.”

“Me too.” He takes a step forward and presses a kiss to my cheek. But his arms are keeping a distance between us. “I’ll call or text in the morning. Goodnight, Care.”

“Night, Carlos.” I watch him as he gets in his car and pulls away. My half empty wine bottle and the two pints of ice cream are still on the table. The ice cream melted and I pick everything up before heading inside.

Well, I guess after tonight we’re a real couple. I may regret it one day, but I deserve happiness as much as the next person. And I think Carlos could be that. Only time will tell.

20

Carlos

“Is she here yet?”I yell from the kitchen. Mom and I are making the last of the tortillas. I could have gotten away without helping, but this was my idea and it’s only fair.

“No,” Marisol snaps back. “If you ask again, I’m going to muzzle you.”

“Why is she so violent?” I ask Mom as she rolls out another ball of dough.

“I blame it on the video games she plays.”

“Maybe don’t let her play those in the future.” I flip one of the tortillas in the rotation. We have 3 comals going and the last burner has carne asada simmering. The house smells delicious. It’s a weekly thing, but I remember growing up it smelling like it every day. Aside from seeing my family every day, and not being around much when my sisters were little, this is one of the things I miss most about being on my own.

“Oh, now you’re going to parent me?” She puts a flat piece of dough in one of the pans I just emptied. “Just you wait. If things work out with this girl, you’ll understand how hard it is to raise little ones.”

“He’s not that little. I think he’s around seven.”

“Fine, you get some of the fun years, but don’t let those fool you. Teenagers are fun and scary at the same time.”

“I heard that,” Marisol hollers.

“You were supposed to.” Mom finishes rolling the last of the tortillas. The only thing left is the rice.

“Hey, there’s a car coming down the road I don’t recognize.” Gabriela yells to nobody in particular.

I run from the kitchen to the living room and push Marisol out of the way to look out the window. “Where?”

“Dude, what the hell?” Marisol shoves me.

“Mari, stop cussing. You know I don’t like it.” Mom’s voice is stern, and I have a feeling this is a battle she has with her constantly.

“Yeah, stop cussing.” I peer out the window, and it’s her. Caroline is driving slowly up the road, looking at the mailbox numbers. A part of me wants to run out to the front yard to let her know this is the right house, but I feel like that would seem a bit desperate.

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