I pile the cheesy fried tortilla bits on my plate. Javier tosses a couple of fried eggs on top of it, then slides a fantastic-smelling green salsa in front of me.
“Careful, Noruego. It’s a little spicy.”
I carefully pour a little salsa on a small corner of the pile of goodness and give it a try.
“Holy shit,” I choke out, immediately feeling Abuela’s stare of disapproval.
I hold up my hands, no hope of redemption. “I’m so sorry. I’ve never had something so good in all my life, and I don’t care if my mouth is on fire.”
She raises a sharp brow at me, then gestures for me to continue. I can’t be certain, but I’m pretty sure that’s pride in her eyes.
“Dude, you almost died,” Ant whispers as he uses a spatula to transfer a pile of chilaquiles onto his plate.
I ladle the green salsa all over everything and take one of the homemade corn tortillas, knowing I’ll use it to clean my plate. “Literally worth it. I swear, if you learn how to make this, I will buy you a pony.”
Gael snorts next to me. Shit, I forgot he was there.
Ant’s self-satisfied grin makes my heart speed up. “Considering my mom already taught me how to make this, including the salsa, you’ve got yourself a deal.”
“What about the tortillas?” I beg as I roll one up and inhale the freshness.
“Fine. But I don’t need a pony. You’ll just owe me big time.”
“Whatever you want. I’m good for it.”
Gael and Ant reach across me to fist bump, and I don’t even care. Fuck, I’m in heaven. I love being from Norway, but fårikål hasnothingon this.
Everyone settles into the meal, and unlike last night’s quieter affair, this feels like a true celebration. Gael and Ant are making each other laugh hysterically. Javier and Yaya keep trading ribald jokes their mother says she does not appreciate, despite the fact we all catch her laughing. Twice.
Emil and Abuelo are the only two at the table who are quiet, yet their beaming smiles tell me everything. When Abuela isn’t looking, I take out my phone and snap a quick picture of the madness, then send it to Charlie and Nacho.
Nacho:Are those chilaquiles?
Nacho:You motherfucker.
Nacho:Can you bring some back with you?
Charlie:Wow. Everyone looks so happy.
Charlie:I’m proud of us, you big Swede.
I keep the phone in my lap and an eye out for Abuela while sending my reply.
Me:Not this again.
Nacho:Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m going to need an answer on those chilaquiles.
Me:Sorry, friend. I plan on keeping my Nordic ass in this chair until I’ve eaten every last bit.
Nacho:Bastardo.
Me:
Nacho:No, but seriously. I’ve never seen Ant look that happy.
Charlie:This is why we do what we do.
Me:Sorry, can’t hear all of your disgusting sincerity over the fucking delicious green salsa and crunchy homemade tortilla chips.
