Page 11 of A Way Out
“Oh my gosh, this is the best salsa I’ve ever eaten,” Maria gushed, unabashedly scooping a much larger portion onto her next chip.
“It’s Abuelita’s secret recipe,” Elana said knowingly, “although Uncle Oz has done a good job of replicating it.”
Oz beamed with pride.
“Uncle Oz?” Maria asked.
She didn’t think they were his, did she? Wow. He was only thirty-two, and Elana was thirteen. It was possible, of course, and he supposed plenty of people did start that early. It was just that he’d never even considered having kids until he suddenly had a ready-made family at twenty-eight.
The fact that he wanted so badly to explain his situation irked him. He shouldn’t care what this woman thought of him. And yet…
“They’re my sister’s kids. She passed away, and now my mom and I are raising them.”
Maria’s eyes went huge. “Oh wow. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks.” Four years later, it still burned in his chest a little when he mentioned Raquel, but it was manageable these days. Not that he had any interest in expanding on the details.
Daniel and Elana declared themselves done, and Izzie automatically followed suit, even though she’d been in the middle of taking a bite of her sandwich. Riley watched her push her plate away and immediately copied the action.
Oz smiled. Izzie was so used to being the youngest, the one who tried so hard to do whatever her older siblings did; it had to be strange to have a smaller person now doing the same to her.
“Dishes in the dishwasher,” he announced. “Scrape whatever is on your plates into the trash first.”
His three automatically did as they were told. This was a standard routine for them.
Riley slid off her stool, with Maria’s help, and then reached up for her plate, but Maria lifted it for her.
“I want to do it,” Riley demanded, stretching her arms over her head.
“Honey, it’s a breakable plate. I’ll do it,” Maria said.
“I want to do it,” Riley demanded again.
“Sweetheart, next time we’ll find you a plastic plate and then you can do it, okay?”
Riley’s bottom lip quivered.
“It’s okay,” Oz said quickly. “It’s right here. Let her try.”
“But—”
“I’ll pay for it if she breaks the plate.” God, he hoped Holly and Sam didn’t have kitchenware that cost a hundred bucks a setting or something obscene like that.
Maria hesitated for another moment and then gently placed the plate in both of Riley’s hands before pointing at the drawer where the trash container was kept. “Very carefully go over there and dump this stuff into the trash.”
Riley had torn the crusts off her sandwich after watching Izzie eat hers crustless.
Once the toddler successfully completed that task, Maria said, “Now, can you place it in the dishwasher, just like the others?”
Chest puffed out with pride, Riley did exactly that, and then she looked at Izzie, who grinned back.
“Good job,” his approving eight-year-old said.
“Pool!” Riley announced.
“Let’s go,” Izzie said, offering her hand. Riley clasped it, and the two of them rushed toward the patio.
Chuckling, Oz turned and caught Maria swiping a tear off her cheek.
