“You know it. I know it. It’s fine. You’re trying not to play favorites. I get it.” This deep chuckle, so perfect for his voice, finally sprung out of him, and it made me sniffle one last time. Before I could stop myself, I said what I’d wanted to say to him for a while now. “You know it’s bullshit you suspended me from going to a practice.”

The chuckle grew into a laugh. “You’re still hung up on that?”

Somewhere in my conscience, I noted again that he had a really good laugh. Deep from his chest. Honest. He was still a prick for what he’d done before our truce, despite how nice he’d been to me today, but I could see myself forgiving him for it a lot faster than I would have without.

“You instigated it, and I can’t play favorites. You said it.” He chuckled for a moment before lowering his voice. “I haven’t seen that car from the other day again, by the way.”

The other…? Oh. Anita. Shit. “Me neither. I don’t think she’ll show up again. She’s probably the reason why I got a migraine today to begin with. Thanks for keeping an eye out though.”

“Sure.” With that, he stood, brushing the back of his shorts with his palms. I made myself keep my eyes on his face. “You’re gonna be fine.”

“I’m gonna be fine,” I confirmed and then used his words on him. “Thanks for… everything.” I wondered if he’d remember that term we’d used when we met for the second time.

He must have because a smile grew out of his laugh. “Yeah, you got it.” His hands went to his pockets suddenly. “I came over to see if I’d left my wallet. Mind if I take a look?”

Chapter Thirteen

“I don’t think you bought enough beer,” my dad commented in Spanish.

I shot him a look over my shoulder as I poured another two bags of ice over the bottles. “Pa, it’s Josh’s birthday. Nobody needs to be getting drunk. Come on. I bought like half the sodas, waters, and juice boxes that the grocery store carried. Everyone can get Capri Sun wasted if they want.”

He shot me back an expression that I had no doubt resembled mine all too well. “Uy. You could have bought some more, or told me and I would have.”

Only in my family did adults come to a children’s party expecting beer.

My dad had already paid for all the meat being grilled. He should have known better than to say something like that. Plus, I’d spent a horrifying chunk of my checking account balance on everything else for the party, and that was considering I’d gotten a discount from a client who owned party rental stuff for the moonwalk, tables and chairs. Luckily, I’d already owned the Slip-N-Slide.

I kept telling myself the only person whose happiness mattered today was Josh’s. And Louie’s. Everyone else could go eat a big pile of monkey shit if there wasn’t enough beer to drink, damn it. What did they think I was made of? Money?

Dear God, I was turning into my mom.

“It’ll be fine,” I mumbled to him, slapping him on the back as I headed back into the house to grab the midnight blue tablecloth I’d been reusing for the boys’ birthdays the last couple of years. Inside, my mom was hustling around the kitchen, preparing trays of vegetables and other easy finger foods I’d picked up the night before. She shot me that tight, distressed smile she always had on her face when people were going to come over.

When Drigo and I were kids and the holidays would come around, we’d hide. My mom, who was normally a very clean, very meticulous and tough-loving human being with a pretty good temper—as long as you didn’t say something she didn’t like or do something that embarrassed her—turned into a walking human nightmare. Not being around when she needed help wasn’t very nice, but the crap that came out of her mouth when she was trying to be perfect was a lot more “not nice.” A few times, Rodrigo had texted me RUN if he’d gotten wrangled into one of her moods.

And in this case, even though this was my house and it was only a bunch of kids, family members, and the nearest neighbors coming… I wasn’t expecting any differently. She’d complained about my lack of baseboard cleaning as soon as she had shown up, and then proceeded to walk around the house with a wet towel cleaning them, before going in my bathroom and the one the boys shared and making sure they didn’t have pee and poo stains all over the walls or something.

So I wasn’t ashamed of saying I had smiled at her and got the hell out of the house and her way as quickly as I could, busying myself with other things outside.

The box of decorations was right where I’d left it earlier in the living room, and I could hear the boys fighting from Josh’s room, more than likely playing video games until everyone showed up.

“Guys, will you help me decorate as soon as you get a break, please?” I called out to them, pausing in the living room with my hands holding the box to listen to their response of “Five minutes!”

I knew better. “Five minutes” was open to interpretation.

“I’m serious! Right when you’re done! The faster you help me, the faster you can get back to playing.”

They might have groaned, but they might have not. I wasn’t positive. All I heard was “Okay!” yelled back distractedly.

A girl could dream.

My mom’s back was to me in the kitchen, and I speed walked as fast as possible through it and back out the door so she wouldn’t catch me. She didn’t. Thankfully.