Page 11 of Serving my Dragon
Mama’s face pinched as she switched languages. “This woman is not your novia?”
“No, she’s not my girlfriend. I am simply helping her out.”
“By letting her cook?” Mama’s gaze narrowed.
“I offered,” Kayleigh interjected. “I love making food. My mom taught me how at a young age and it was the least I could do for Matias after all he’s done for me.”
“Mijo is a good boy. Always helping. You are Americana?”
Kayleigh nodded. “Yes. Born and raised in Ohio.”
“What is your job?” A strange question for my mom to ask.
“Kindergarten teacher. I just love kids,” Kayleigh gushed. “I can’t wait to have a few of my own.”
Mama’s gaze turned appraising, and I began to worry, especially considering the next question. “You are married?”
“Not that I recall, and I doubt I got hitched in the two months I’m missing memory-wise. I was engaged once years ago but that didn’t work out.” Seeing Kayleigh’s crestfallen expression, I wanted to punch the guy who’d made her sad.
Mama’s gaze turned to the half-eaten sandwiches. “Store-bought bread,” she uttered with a disdainful sniff.
Poor Kayleigh sounded apologetic as she said, “Not the best, I know. I usually prefer to make it from scratch.” In an almost conspiratorial whisper, Kayleigh added, “Matias has got, like, no ingredients in his kitchen.”
“Because he is bad at cooking. I make his food until he finds a wife.” Mama suddenly smiled and my trepidation doubled. “You will come to dinner.”
I quickly protested, “No need, Mama. I bought steaks.”
Wrong reply.
Mama’s gaze fixed me.
That was all.
I muttered, “We’ll be there.”
“Good. I will make your favorite even if you are a terrible son who doesn’t let his mother know he’s returned early from his trip with a guest.”
I knew better than to ask what my favorite dish was. Mama had her own ideas about my preferences depending on her mood. In her defense, I loved it all. Still, her commandeering manner in front of Kayleigh brought out a bit of rebellion in me.
“Can I bring Pollita?” I purposely asked to antagonize Mama despite knowing the reply. It worked.
“No lizard in my house,” Mama huffed.
“Then I don’t know if we can come. Pollita needs to eat too. Maybe we will stay here and have the steaks.”
Mama’s lips pinched. “You would choose the lizard over me?”
“I can’t exactly let her starve.” I rubbed Pollita under the chin and she could have been a cat the way she tucked into me and practically purred.
The muttering in Spanish was followed in grudging English by, “I will send you home with a plate for the creature.”
A compromise that proved acceptable. “Then we’ll be there.”
“You’d better.” With that warning, Mama swept out.
Kayleigh smiled. “I like your mom.”
I just about choked.
