Page 113 of The Fix-Up

Stay in the present, Sunny liked to tell me. Don’t let your anxiety steal the joy of what’s right in front of you.

So, I opened my eyes and smiled.

“Oliver,” Gil yelled. “Come on. Let’s go to dinner.”

“I can make something here,” I said.

He gave me a stern look. “No. We’re going out to eat. It’s your birthday. Looks like I’m not the only one who can keep secrets.”

I was pleasantly surprised when Gil drove us to the Texican for dinner. A server seated us at a table much too large for us. “Are we expecting company?”

Gil smiled. “Maybe.”

Oliver giggled before slapping a hand over his mouth.

“Not suspicious at all,” I said with a laugh.

“It’s a birthday party, Mommy,” Oliver said. “We even got a cake.”

My chest tightened, too many feelings to even name. I met Gil’s eyes and smiled. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I made the cake.”

“I helped,” Oliver added, his face beaming.

I choked back a laugh. “I can’t wait to see it. I’m going to run to the bathroom before everyone gets here.”

Liliana stopped me as I passed her at the front counter. “Who is this one?”

“That’s Gil.”

“A date?” She gave a long look over the half-wall. “He is very handsome. And Oliver likes him, no?”

“Not a date. He’s…” Something. “We’re business partners.” Who kiss.

“You do not blush like he’s your business partner.” She turned her speculative gaze on me. “I like this one.”

My mouth dropped open. Never, ever, in the two years I’d been bringing dates to the Texican, had Liliana given her stamp of approval. Some of them had gotten a maybe, lots of immediate nos. And she was never wrong. Ever.

“Si, this one I like.” She peeked at Gil and then back to me. “Yes, this is a good one for you.”

“You haven’t met him. How do you even know?”

Liliana pffts. “I do not get to be this old being stupid. You can tell by the way he looks at you. I watched. I saw.”

I ran a fingernail along the edge of the counter between us. “How would you say he looked at me?”

She put a hand over mine. “Like you are precious. Not perfect, but precious. That is how a man should look at a woman.”

“I’m not sure it’s going to work out between us,” I said quietly.

“Another thing I have learned is things have a way of working out the way they are supposed to.” She gave my hand a final pat. “Now, go back to your table. You are going to have a busy night, no? A table for fifteen.” She frowned. “It’s your birthday. Why did you not tell me this?”

“I didn’t know I was supposed to tell the owner of my favorite restaurant when my birthday was.”

She harrumphed. “Just for that, we’re singing ‘Happy Birthday’ in EnglishandSpanish, and you have to wear the sombrero all night.”

FORTY-EIGHT

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