I bite my bottom lip to keep from chuckling at the disappointment I note in Abuela’s eyes. I think she was expecting Luca to announce that we were dating…and while we’re not, we’re still something. A situationship.
“You watch too much Las Islas,” I whisper to her as Luca moves toward the sink to wash his hands.
“Shh!” she scolds me, her eyes darting to Luca. “It wouldn’t be a bad thing, you know…” She trails off. “He’s a very handsome man. And a good boy.”
I snort. The last thing Luca DiBlanco is, is a good boy. But I don’t tell Abuela that. I suppose when you’re pushing mid-eighties, it’s all relative.
“I have to take this,” Luca says apologetically, holding his ringing cell phone in the air.
Abuela waves him off as he slips into the living room.
She turns her curious gaze on me. “Are you sure there’s nothing else you want to tell me, Carlita?”
I blush, dropping my head. I swear she has some kind of secret vision that lets her see into the inner workings of her grandchildren’s minds. “No,” I murmur. “Nada.”
“Aún no,” Abuela decides, grinning. Nothing yet.
I blush deeper and roll my eyes. She grins and claps her hands together.
As Luca returns, Abuela’s phone rings and she dashes out of the kitchen, giving me a cheeky wink before she clears the doorway.
Luca sits at the kitchen table across from me and we dig into our plates of paella.
“This brings back memories,” he admits. “I used to come here with Alejandro, and Abuela always fed us something delicious. Paella, fartons and horchata, coca de mollitas,” he rattles off the items.
“Abuela’s an amazing cook,” I agree. “Poor Marlowe, she was really craving paella, which is why Abuela made it today, but Ale phoned and said not to bring it.”
“Is she still sick?” Luca asks.
I nod.
“Isn’t it kind of…well, a long time to feel this poorly?”
“Yes,” I agree, sighing. “She has hyperemesis gravidarum.”
Luca’s eyebrows fly off his face.
“Think morning sickness but more intense and for her whole pregnancy,” I explain.
Horror shudders through his eyes. “That sounds awful. Ale hasn’t said anything.”
“They just got the diagnosis two days ago. He’s…worried about Marlowe. She needed IV fluids this week.”
“Mierda,” he swears.
I nod in agreement. It really is shit.
“But Abuela was happy when I told her you were passing by. She’s always thrilled to have someone eat her paella.”
Luca chuckles. “What are you up to for the rest of the evening?”
I wrinkle my nose. “Honestly? I feel like going out. Tomorrow is a teacher’s professional development day so there’s no work for me. I haven’t had a night out in ages. You busy?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. And I’d love to take you out.”
I bite the corner of my mouth. “Do you have practice tomorrow morning?”
“No,” he says slowly.
