Page 45 of Wasted On Us
I feel like I’m going to come out of my skin as I walk to the side gate to let him into the backyard. I can’t fathom how I’ll have the strength to get through the day without making an absolute fool of myself. I even manage to stumble on my way out of the backdoor, my toe catching on the lip of the sliding glass door. All of this awkwardness melts away the second I see him standing in the driveway. God, just the sight of him lights a fire deep inside me. One that makes me willing to take a risk and fight for it all the way to the bitter end. If we’re going to get through this, it’s going to have to be together.
Unlatching the gate, he joins me on the other side of the fence, making a show of handing me my own bouquet of sunflowers and giving me a chaste kiss on the cheek. It’s enough to let anyone here know exactly who he is in relation to me, without being overbearing or tasteless, and I appreciate his tact. Mom picks up on this and glides over to us, extending a hand for Mateo to shake. His confident demeanor shifts, becoming something more relaxed, warm.
He steps forward, wrapping my mother in a gentle, respectful hug, his manners shining through. “Mrs. Lorenson, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Eden talks about you a lot.”
He pulls back, revealing his offering to his hostess. “I hope you like these,” he says, presenting them to her. “Eden told me they are your favorite.”
The surprise is evident in my mother’s eyes, and she looks at Mateo, then the flowers, then back to him, a smile spreading across her face. “Oh, my goodness, stargazers! Why, thank you, young man! You’re quite the charmer. Wherever did you find him, Eden?”
A sense of relief washes over me, but I still can’t shake the feeling of tension that coils in my stomach. The feud between our fathers looms over us like a specter, casting a dark shadow over the sunny day. But Mateo, he’s just... being Mateo. Sincere and charming, with a knack for disarming people with his authenticity. He’s winning my mother over, effortlessly, and I can’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, he’ll be able to do the same with my father.
“She was having a bad day, and I showed up to try and make it better.” He smiles with a small shrug. “I’m Matt. And I would very much appreciate it if you could show me where to put this beer.”
The name was an inspired move. It isn’t a lie—not outright. But saying ‘Mateo’ might’ve rung a few bells that didn’t need to be rung today. Maybe Mateo is far smarter than I give him credit for.
“Mom is laughing. Mom is laughing? Why is Mom laughing?” Ensley asks, lugging a bowl full of sliced watermelon to the table outside.
“Mattwent for the oldest trick in the book.” I make a point of stressing his name, hoping that my older sister picks up on the game. “Brought her flowers and kissed her butt.”
“You must be kidding.” Rolling her eyes, she pops a piece of watermelon into her mouth. “And it worked? Plus one for Matt.”
It’s a win, certainly, that Mom has already taken to him. They’re standing near one of her flowerbeds, and she has her arm wrapped around his broad shoulders as she tries to feed him. But that’s only half of the problem. The other half is manning the grill, focusing on the pieces of chicken as if they’re going to reveal the secret to life itself.
I try to keep my cool as things go smoothly for about fifteen minutes, but my anxiety trips back into overdrive when I see Mateo come out of the house and head for the grill with a tray of vegetable skewers Mom must’ve asked him to bring to my dad. If I stand just close enough with my back to them, I can hear them over the sound of the radio on the patio. I busy myself with my phone, so it doesn’t look like I’m listening, throwing a glance over my shoulder every once in a while.
“Excuse me, sir, Amy asked me to bring these out to you,” Mateo begins, offering the tray of skewers as if it will explain his entire presence.
My dad’s nostrils flare. “Do I know you?”
“I’m Eden’s friend,” Mateo offers, as if it’s the most casual thing in the world, and not him lowering himself into a pit of live alligators.
Dad pauses to think, taking a sip of his beer. “You look familiar.”
“We haven’t met, sir,” he continues, and I’m amazed at his ability to not run screaming into the next yard. “What kind of marinade is that? I’ve never smelled anything like it.
It’s a perfect diversion, my dad forgetting his previous question entirely as he proudly clacks his tongs in the air with a flourish. “This is the secret family recipe. I can’t tell you what’s in it, but the secret to good meat… go slow. Take your time.”
“I’ve heard that’s the secret to a good relationship too.” His comment makes me turn and look in spite of myself, and I accidentally lock eyes with my dad. Much to my surprise, he not only smiles, but he shoots me a thumbs up. Which isn’t something I’ve ever seen him do. Not in my whole life. The visual is so surreal that I wonder if I must be dreaming, but a quick pinch of my fingernails against my arm tells me that I’m not.
Mateo stays just long enough to eat a quick snack and not seem rude, and then he’s thanking my father for having him over and making sure my mom doesn’t need help with anything else before he steals me away. I tell my mom that we had a prior obligation with someone else in the neighborhood that “Matt” works with, which isn’t a total lie. He does work with Salvador. I just didn’t want to mention his family at all. I’m only honest with my sisters and trust them to always have my back.
When we leave the house, we make sure to walk all the way around the block, down the street, around a second block, and then back to the Garcías’ house from the opposite direction. I don’t want anyone from our party seeing me go that way, nor do I want Mateo’s family to see me walking over from our house either. On top of it all, I decided to wear a massive sun hat to hide my hair. I don’t think Salvador can identify me on sight as being one of Daniel’s daughters—he certainly didn’t when I was at the dealership—but I’m terrified he’ll make the association if he sees me in my natural habitat. By the time we get to the García house, I’m a little winded and ruddy-faced, and my calves are starting to throb. Not the best way to make a first impression, but I’ll manage.
As I glance over the back fence, I see Salvador is engaged in deep conversation with a couple of the guys from the dealership, just like Mateo had thought he would be. This allows him to sneak me in through the front door and into the house without his father even seeing that I’ve arrived. Because, much like I suspected all along, today has nothing to do with me meeting Salvador and has everything to do with finally meeting the other love of Mateo’s life.
“Abuelita,” Mateo calls out softly, rapping on the archway into the kitchen with his knuckles. “I have someone here for you.”
Turning around from the stove, a woman with silver hair in a long braid and thick glasses faces me. She scrutinizes me from behind the distorting lenses, reminding me of something from a cartoon. At first, I’m afraid I’ve done something to offend her. Then, she breaks out into the warmest smile I’ve ever seen.
“So, this is the girl you’ve been keeping so secret from me,mijo?” She reaches out to Mateo and swats him on the arm. “Shame on you for hiding someone so beautiful. And for not telling me her name.”
“Ah, watch out with the hands.” He jumps back from her, holding his palms in the air in a playful surrender. “This is Eden. Don’t embarrass me. No stories about little Mateo. No busting out the old photo albums. Please.”
“Embarrass you? I don’t think you’ve ever needed my help with that,” she laughs, broad and rich, before bringing her attention back to me.
“I brought something for you, Abuelita,” I say, a twinge of nervousness making my voice quiver. My hand goes to the plant that I’ve been nervously clutching. “In honor of our first meeting. It’s a Papalo plant. I thought it might be a nice addition to your garden.”
The moment her gaze lands on the plant, her expression softens and her eyes light up with a warmth that could outshine the sun. She gingerly takes it from me, cradling it in her hands like a newborn.