Page 75 of My Secret Bandit

“How much longer?”

“That’s your question?” he quizzed.

“Yeah, that’s it. How much longer?”

“Are you sure it isn’t something more like ‘why’d you never tell me your sister was deployed’?”

Looking out the window, my head turned so fast I felt dizzy. “How did you know?”

“Fun fact about Xander. When he feels guilty, he’ll spill his guts. He told me as soon as I saw him this morning.”

“Oh,” I said, unsure of what to say next. I didn’t have to wait long as Mateo took it upon himself to fill our silence.

“I didn’tnottell you on purpose. I wasn’t trying to keep her a secret or anything. I’ve just… I never talk about Mari with anyone.”

He pulled his hand from my thigh and ran it through his curls.

“Can I ask why?”

He shrugged. “I don’t like to think about her over there.” I nodded because that’s pretty much how Xander explained it. “I’m proud of my sister. Like a hundred percent, no doubt about it, she’s a fucking badass. But she’s still my sister. I worry about her. About what she’s doing, what she’s going through. How her being gone affects Amelia. Thinking about her always snowballs into thinking about everything that could happen to her. I’ve never really told anyone about it, but I wrestled with a lot of anxiety when she first left. It affected me daily. On the field and off. It affected my performance so much Coach insisted I talk to the team’s psychologist about it.”

“And did you? Talk to someone?”

He tilted his head. “Once, but it was easier to block it out. Probably not the best method of coping, but it works for me.”

I took hold of his hand that continued to fidget. “Hey, thank you. I appreciate you telling me. And if you randomly decide you want to talk about her or how you’re feeling, you know I’m here, right? Whenever you need. Whatever you need.”

“I do.” He grinned and turned into a driveway.

The wheels came to a smooth stop in front of a Spanish styled home. Out front a little garden area surrounded a pergola, under it a swing swayed in the breeze. A large playground, complete with a pink playhouse, sat a few yards away.

The front door flew open, and a little girl sprinted from the house. At just as fast a pace, Mateo hopped from the car.

They met in the middle and he hoisted her into the air, her long curls flying.

Snuggled close, her little arms wrapped around his neck as she giggled. He bent to place her back on the ground, peppering her cheeks with kisses as he did.

“Is this her?” Her green eyes sparkled the same way her uncle’s did.

When he nodded, she threw her arms around me, and I hugged her back. Mateo smiled big, his dimples growing as he watched.

“You must be Amelia,” I said, kneeling in front of her. She bounced her head, a huge smile overtaking her face. “My name is Jamie.”

“I know.” She giggled again. “Tíotalks about you all the time.”

“Ah! You’re here.” An unfamiliar voice caught my attention. It was smooth like Mateo’s but heavier, aged.

“Hey, Pops,” Mateo said, standing to engulf his dad in a hug. “Pops, Jamie. Jameson, this is my dad.”

Standing side by side the resemblance between the two men was uncanny. The only actual differences were the slightly rounded belly, full, gray-speckled beard, and darker complexion.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

“Thomas, please,” he replied, pulling me into a bear hug. “Or Pops, Tom, whichever.”

We followed him into the house with one of Amelia’s small hands in mine and one in Mateo’s.

“Ben! Mateo and Jamie are here,” Thomas called out, his deep voice carrying through the house.

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