“Yes. She comes into the shop often. I think she’ll be a great match for you.”
“Since when did I say I was interested in dating?”
“I just think it would be nice for you. You’ve always spent so much time focusing on me, worrying about me, making sure I’m okay. But it’s time for you to focus on yourself. And I know you have been since we left foster care, but not when it comes to your love life. And you deserve love, Mateo. You deserve happiness. I know you want a family someday.”
I shot my sister a quizzical look. “Who the hell are you, and what have you done with my sister?”
She smiled as she sat down across from me and pulled her sandwich towards her. “I’m serious. I’ve felt this way for a while. I just hadn’t told you. I don’t want you to think I’m nagging. I’m so thankful for what you’ve done for me. I want to make sure you give yourself the same treatment.”
“Any brother would’ve done what I did. We had a shitty childhood, Malia.”
“I know.” She said softly before popping a chip into her mouth.
Growing up in foster care wasn’t easy. We saw a lot of shit, dealt with a lot of shit, but not once did I let Malia leave my side. One time, they wanted to separate us, send us to different foster homes, but I put up such a fight, they ended up giving in andkeeping us together. If a family was abusive, I took the beatings. If we had little food or clothes, I gave all of mine to Malia. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
But when I aged out at eighteen, I inherited a wealthy sum of money from a distant eccentric uncle who passed away. Malia filed for an emancipation, accepted her portion of the inheritance, and we bought our land, had two cabins built, complete with my workshop and her boutique shop featuring one-of-a-kind handmade pieces.
Our life had made a sharp turn for the better. The last thing I wanted was for something to change.
“That’s why I care so much about your happiness.”
“Thank you. If it means that much to you, I’ll take your friend out on a date.”
“You will?” Malia’s face lit up.
I chuckled. “Yeah, but you owe me one.”
“You got it. In fact, I’ll even pay for you to get a haircut.”
My mouth dropped in mock offensiveness. “Are you saying you don’t like my shaggy hair and messy, overgrown beard?”
“No, I don’t.” Malia didn’t care to tell me the truth. I loved that about her.
“Okay, deal. Make me an appointment.”
“Great. I’ll schedule one for later today. Is dinner tomorrow okay?”
“Yeah, it’s Friday and I can’t say I have plans.”
“I figured.” Malia chided with a laugh.
“You’re lucky I love you.” I teased.
“Youhaveto love me.” Malia said and stuck out her tongue. “Now, be quiet while I make your hair appointment.”
Sure enough, Malia booked me an appointment at a salon in town later that day.
And when I sat down in the chair, all bushy and wild caveman like, the gorgeous, older woman took one look at meand smiled big and bright, as if it did not bother her one bit. I liked her already.
“Hi. I’m Zola. Nice to meet you. I take it you want to get cleaned up today?”
Her voice landed in my ears, and my heart sped up.
I gripped the sides of the chair.
Who is this woman?
And why am I having such a visceral reaction to her?
