It wasn’t Sal’s fault.

“Brace yourself,” I whispered to her.

She elbowed me with a snort.

The next two hours went by in the blink of an eye as a few friends of Josh’s from school and their parents showed up, mixed in with the family we had in San Antonio, and the young couple from next door and their kid. There must have been at least fifty people in the backyard and the birthday party was still going in full swing. We still hadn’t cut cake, socked the shit out of a piñata, or opened presents.

“You need help with anything?” my cousin asked, coming up behind me with two used royal blue party plates in her hands.

I was squatting by one of the coolers, trying to rearrange more drinks inside. “That’s okay. I’m done.”

She watched me as I stood up, her pretty face beaming. “There’re so many people here.”

“I know. I’m pretty sure I don’t know ten of them,” I huffed, zoning in on the group of adults I really was pretty positive that I’d never met in my life. “Anybody bothering you guys?”

“No.” She shook her head. “When he has his hat on, no one pays attention.”

That was the thing with Sal: she didn’t say no one knows who I am. She didn’t care. My mom had shown me pictures that Sal’s dad had posted online of her face on a billboard in Germany, for God’s sake.

“Good, because if they are, tell them to fuck off, or tell me and I’ll tell them to fuck off.”

Sal laughed and tapped her elbow against mine a little too hard, but I kept my wince to myself. “The boys look great.”

For probably the third time in the last couple of hours, that all too familiar knot formed in my throat. The first time had been when I’d overheard Louie in the moonwalk shouting, “This is the best party ever!” The second time had been when one of Josh’s friend’s moms came into the backyard and referred to me as his mom. Neither one of us had objected to the title, but I’d felt every inch of it. How could I not? I shouldn’t be the one throwing the party. It should have been Rodrigo.

“Josh has grown a foot since I last saw him,” she commented, her gaze on the moonwalk like she could see him through the net walls. “And Louie’s still the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I know. He really is, and he’s the sweetest kid in the world.”

“Josh isn’t?”

I kind of gave her a side look. “When he wants to be, but he’s just like Rodrigo, a smart-ass.”

Her chuckle had me glancing at her, frowning.

“What?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know you’re the smart-ass in the family.”

“I am not,” I scoffed.

“Sure you’re not,” she laughed.

“Diana?” a male voice asked from behind, pausing our conversation.

I was too distracted to piece together why the rough, male voice sounded so familiar, but I was about to turn my head over my shoulder when it clicked. He’d come.

“Hey,” I said to the voice I recognized as Dallas’s from the rough texture it had, fully turning around to find him a few feet away with Miss Pearl on his arm. Well. I had no idea they even knew each other, but that was pretty damn cute he’d brought her. “Miss Pearl, I’m so happy you’re here.”

The older woman smiled. “Thank you for inviting me, last minute and all, Miss Cruz.”

And she went there. Okay. I barely held back a laugh at her brutal honesty. “Diana, please. You’re welcome. Come on in and let’s get you a seat and something to eat and drink,” I said, walking around to take her other hand. “I’ll find you later,” I said to my cousin who simply nodded, head bobbing a hello at the two newcomers. Miss Pearl seemed to eye her for a second too long but followed after me.

I made eye contact with two of my other cousins who happened to be sitting at the table closest to us and mouthed, “Move it” while cocking my head to the side. Luckily, they were polite enough to move, taking their trash with them.

“You didn’t tell me with enough time about the party,” Miss Pearl started. There we went again. “I couldn’t buy your boy a present,” she apologized as we settled her into a chair at an empty table.

“Don’t worry. He has so many presents already. What can I get you both to drink?”

She requested a Diet Coke and Dallas a beer after I told him what we had.

I was surprised he was here. With a beer and a red cup filled with soda in hand, I made my way back to the table, dodging a horde of kids walking through the yard with their cell phones in hand, not paying attention to where they were going.

“Here you go,” I said to both, passing Dallas his can, skipping his gaze in the process, and handing Miss Pearl her cup of diet. “Are you hungry?” I asked her. “We have fajitas, chicken, Mexican rice, beans, nachos…”

“I can’t handle spicy. It messes with my digestion. Is any of that fine?”

“Yes, ma’am. None of it is spicy.”

“I’ll take some chicken and Mexican rice, whatever that is.”

My lips quirked. “Okay. I’ll bring you back a plate. Dallas? Anything?” I made myself ask before my mom caught me not asking and demanded to know where the hell my manners had gone.

But my neighbor turned toward the older woman instead of responding to me. “I’m gonna grab my own plate. You’ll be fine, Nana?”