Page 61 of Meet Me Back Here

“Deal. What do you want to know?” she asks with a light laugh.

“Everything,” I tease. I think I could see myself being easy friends with Jenna. “I guess start from the beginning? Are you originally from Arizona?”

“Born and raised,” Jenna answers, still keeping one eye on the pan. “My father moved here from Chicago with his family when he was a teenager, but my mother and her family have been here a lot longer than most. My mother and I are White Mountain Apache.”

“Oh!” I say with surprise before realizing what today is. I try to figure out something respectful and appropriate to say.

Jenna’s smile only widens.

“I think I can guess what’s going through your head right now,” she says, her tone still light. “I am just as thankful today as I am every other day for everything I have, and for Melina, and for her family and friends gathering together to celebrate that joy.”

“Wow,” I say, an honest response. “I just… wow.”

“We celebrate a little differently now,” Melina explains. “We have dishes from both of our cultures and focus on the different kinds of love in our life. If we have the chance to do this again when you have access to more than a hotel kitchen, I’ll be asking you to bring your mother’s homemade sauce.”

“I think that’s wonderful,” I say, and I secretly hope we can do this again.

“She’s wonderful, no?” Melina says, beaming at Jenna.

“You two are beautiful together, inside and out,” I say.

Then, a cheering shout in the living room behind me draws my attention, and I turn toward it. Melina laughs when I do.

“It’s a goal,” Melina says. “We can check in a second. Come here first. Mama got you.”

When I turn back, Melina is gesturing to my cheek where her mother had kissed me just before.

“Thank you. I meant to check that.” I start rubbing my palm on my cheek.

“That’s not going to be enough for Mama’s lipstick.” Melina chuckles, taking the towel from Jenna’s shoulder and turning to the sink to wet it.

She brings it to me and starts rubbing the spot before switching to her thumb to get the last bit of lip stain off my skin.

“There! I got it,” she announces, and the two of us start laughing, likely both remembering how many other times she’s had to help me with Mama Ruiz’s exuberant hellos.

Somebody loudly clearing their throat from the doorway snatches our attention. The three of us turn and find Forrest standing there, looking rather displeased by something.

At his stern expression, I feel like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar, but as far as I know, I’ve done nothing wrong. Things have been really good the last few days, none of the weirdness from our birthday. We’ve continued sharing the bed without any awkwardness. It’s actually been… nice.

But now? The room is full of nothing but tense awkwardness.

Maybe something happened in the living room?

Hoping to move on from whatever this is, I introduce Forrest to Jenna.

“Jenna, this is Forrest, my best friend. Forrest, this is Jenna⁠—”

“Hi.” Forrest cuts me off with the curt greeting. “I can see you’re busy in here, so I’ll just catch you later.”

And then he does an about-face and heads back into the living room.

“He seems… nice,” Jenna lies, and I can feel my face heating in embarrassment.

“I am so sorry,” I apologize. “He’s not usually such an ass. I swear.” I flash a look over to Melina, who looks displeased. “I’m really sorry. I’ll talk to him.”

“We all have bad days,” Jenna says, squeezing my forearm. “It’s ok.”

But it’s not, and I go after Forrest to tell him as much. As I pass him, I brush my hand against his, but he continues staring at the television. I never knew him to be much of a soccer fan beyond watching Ted Lasso.