Page 30 of Forget Me

He pulled a napkin out of his pocket and scooped up the end of his cigarette. Then he handed me the mug and trotted to his truck.

I rapped on the front door and then let myself in with my key, calling out, “¡Hola, tía!”

“Mateo?” Her voice was high and strained, coming from the kitchen.

Fuck, had she fallen? I blinked away a horrifying memory of my father lying on the floor of his bedroom the first time the tumor had zapped his brain.

I sprinted to the kitchen and scanned all four corners, but my tía wasn’t stretched out on the tile. She stood on her tiptoes on her step-stool, reaching into an upper cabinet.

My heart slowed its frenzied rhythm even as I rushed to her side. “Get down from there, tía. You’ll fall.”

Only when she had both feet safely on the ground did I breathe again. “Why would you do that? You should’ve called for Carlo or me.”

“I put it up there. I should be able to get it down.”

“What do you need?” I peered into the cabinet.

“The molcajete. I’m making chicken with mole poblano.”

I found the stone bowl and set it down on the counter, my mouth already watering. “You’re making it today?”

She reached up to pat my cheek. “It’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

“It sure is.” I grinned. It wasn’t a dish I’d ever eaten growing up, but tía had learned the recipe from one of her Latina friends here in California, and I’d quickly become addicted. “We have something to celebrate. I have a date with Mimi.”

“You do? ¡Que fantástico! Of course you do. She’d be a fool to turn you down. I want to hear all about it. Was it the food I sent?”

“Well, that and her boss. Though is she really her boss if it’s a volunteer position? Anyway, she’s working on this big party, and I accidentally crashed one of their meetings. One thing led to another, and now not only am I hooking them up with a caterer and Carlo’s band—”

“Ah!” She clapped her hands. “You charmed them, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah, I guess.”

“That’s my boy, un caballero encantador.” She patted my cheek. “So what’s the problem?”

I’d lingered outside the conference room door. Although Mimi looked up to Larissa, I didn’t trust her, and I wanted to be sure she behaved herself. “They…they think we’re dating. Like, not just going to the one party together as friends like we said, but dating.”

Tía’s eyebrows shot up. “Miriam went along with this?”

It had shocked me, too. “She did. Which is the strangest part. She got so…someekin front of Larissa. She’s never meek.”

“Hmm.” She plucked lint off my sweater. “Sometimes people can behave differently with different people. People they think have authority over them.”

I caught her wrist. No way was I going to let her feel embarrassed about putting up with Mick Fallon’s abuse all those years. “Tía.”

“What theabsolute fuckis going on here?” Miguelito’s voice thundered behind me, making me yelp.

“The fuck, Lito,” I wheezed. My heart had lodged itself in my Adam’s apple.

“Don’t swear around my mother.” He bent and kissed her cheek. “You okay, Mamá?”

“Of course I am.” She slapped his chest. “You about gave us both a heart attack. What’s the matter?”

“This cabrón forgot to lock the front door.”

“I called him as soon as he opened the door. He thought I was in trouble.”

“Were you in trouble?”

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