15
MATEO
I clutchedthe bouquet in the small lobby of Mimi’s apartment building. The creamy white plumeria with their shy yellow centers meant I was sorry. Sorry for whatever I’d done on the dance floor to make her run away. And I wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet.
Whenever Papá did something to irritate Mom, he’d brought her these flowers. It had always worked. Until one day, it didn’t.
Neither of us knew why she left. What I’d done, what we’d done, to make her pack her bag and leave the island in the middle of the night. Papá called her a few times, but after her crushing betrayal, he’d never shown up at her door with flowers.
Maybe his mistake was staying on the island with me. When we heard she’d died, he seemed so broken I never had the courage to ask if he regretted not working harder to get her back.
Mimi, with her beauty, her intelligence, her heart, was worth working for. If only I could get out of my own way and prove to her I was worth it, too.
Before I’d gathered the courage to ring her buzzer, she stepped out, winding a beige knit scarf around her neck. She looked up at me, startled.
“What are you doing here?”
Fuck, I’d forgotten to call or text. Again.
“I came to see you. To apologize. For the mole. For everything.” When I waved the bouquet, I practically hit her in the nose. I winced.Chill out, Mateo.“How’s your foot?”
“It’s fine. Are those for me?” She reared back as I shoved the plumeria toward her.
“For you. Sunshine on a gloomy day.” A fine mist was suspended between us, not quite falling but not much heavier than the San Francisco fog. It sparkled in her hair and made tiny beads on her wool coat.
She took the bouquet and sniffed it cautiously. “How did you know plumeria is my favorite?”
“It is?”
“Yes, they’re straightforward. Unfussy. Simple.”
“Like me,” I joked.
Her eyes narrowed for just a second. “Mateo, you’re anything but straightforward. You’re like…like one of those ruffled orchids. Showy. Hard to keep at home.”
I mimed shoving a dagger into my heart. “Ouch.”
“You know what I mean.” Her cheeks pinked. “You’re too beautiful for everyday use. Like my mom’s hand-painted challah platter.”
A compliment? Chalk one up in the win column for Mateo. I didn’t feel the drizzle anymore. Everything was tropical sunshine and the scent of plumeria.
“You’re going out?” I asked.Stupid, Mateo. Of course she was going out. She’d just stepped outside her building.
“I’m volunteering today. For the foundation. There’s an event at the library. The kids are reading to animals from the shelter.”
“Did you take your allergy medication?”
“I sure—wait. How did you know I was allergic to dogs?”
She’d told me that the night at the bar. She’d told me many things, and she’d forgotten all about it. The secret weighed in my chest. “Ben told me that’s why you don’t go to their place that often.”
“Oh. Well, yes, I did.” She tugged at a lock of hair trapped inside her scarf.
There was another piece stuck, and I wanted to loosen it for her, but I didn’t dare touch her. I shoved my hands into my coat pockets.
“I should go,” she said.
“Of course.” Shit, she’d hate me for making her late. Mimi hated to be late. “Want me to take those to your apartment?” I pointed at the flowers.