Miriam immediately softens. “Lo sé.But you really do look good, Miguelito. What if you are ready but it just feels scary?”
“And how would I ever know the difference between the two?”
She smiles. “I don’t know that you can. You just do it anyway and trust your gut. Speaking of risks, I do have news.”
“You dating someone?” he immediately asks.
I expect her to laugh, but she just shakes her head. “No, but I’m working on it with that therapist I told you about. I knew Mami dying when we were little messed me up—but turns out Papi taking off on us was maybe even worse. She thinks it’s why I have such a bad picker. You really should go to therapy, Miguel. It’s been life-changing.”
“Why does everyone keep saying that to me?” he mutters.
“I can’t imagine!” says Miriam before tipping her glass back.
“I moved in with Amelia three weeks after we met. Getting close to people isn’t my issue.”
She flares her nostrils and waits.
“What?” he eventually says.
“Oh, nothing. Just questioning your use of the plural there. You had no issue getting close toAmelia.The rest of us—” She presses her lips together and raises her brow, causing him to roll his eyes. “So, my big news is that I have an interview at the University of Michigan in two days. They’re looking for a dean of students for the Residential College, and apparently the person they’d picked backed out at the last minute. If the job description is to be believed—and I’m not sure about that yet—it’s a lot less paperwork and more face time with students.”
“Terrifying.”
“Ha-ha. You know I’m a people person. It just so happens I’m also a money person, and they’d pay me a lot better, and would cover my fee to relocate. They even flew me into Grand Rapids instead of Detroit, even though it’s almost twice the price, and are covering my rental car, too. Gotta love that Big Ten budget.” She examines him from across the counter. “Why don’t you look happy about this? I’d be teaching at your alma mater. Even better, we’d actually be living in the same place again for the first time since we were teens.”
“Iamhappy,” he says, but his expression’s pained, like someone’s pressing a knife to his back and telling him to smile. “Pero,I have to tell you—you’ll probably hate it here. It’s freezing, and there are maybe tenboricuasin the entire state.”
“Given that one of them is trying to recruit me and I’m sitting across from another, I’m going to assume your commentis a test of the emergency hyperbole alert system. As for the weather, I can handle it. There are worse things than being cold.”
“Spoken by a woman who needs a sweater if it dips below eighty. Besides, there’s a reason they’re asking you to come in the summer instead of January. Trust me on this one.”
“I do trust you, but I’m going to drive to Ann Arbor in two days to verify for myself.” She flashes an enormous grin. “Which means you’ll need to introduce me to Fiona before she leaves.”
Twenty-Nine
“For the record, I feel I’ve been tricked,” says Miguel.
“Tricked! You’re the one who suggested brunch!” says Miriam, bumping her hip against his. They’re standing side by side at the kitchen counter, arranging the feast they just spent the morning pulling together. Miguel’s face is dusted with something—flour, maybe? He won’t let me get close enough to sniff the individual ingredients, but the sweet, eggy smell makes me think he’s made French toast. He used to make it for Amelia, who always tossed me her crusts because she understood what an injustice it is to dine on the same thing indefinitely.
“I was under duress,” he grumbles.
“Yes, your evil younger sister, encouraging you to eat in the most terrifying way—with other people,” says Miriam, laughing. She wipes the powder off his cheek with her thumb. “This is just friends getting together for fun, remember?”
“Fun’s for young people like Ding-Dong. Not forty-two-year-old dinosaurs like me.”
“Hey, I represent that,” says Dane, appearing in the doorway. “And you don’t look a year over Paleolithic.”
Miguel startles. “If you continue to refuse to use the doorbell, Dane, I’m going to get you a shock collar.”
“It’s called a lock, chief. Maybe I’m not the ding-dong here,” says Dane. He turns to Miriam. “Hiya, Miriam—long time no see, but you look great. When’d you get in?”
“Last night, and not a moment too soon,” she says, pushing her curls off her face with her forearm.
“I’ll say.” Dane opens the cupboard to grab a mug. “Want coffee, Riles?” he says to Riley, who must have come in right behind him.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
“Me, too,” says Brenna, appearing behind her.
