Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
T he remainder of the afternoon is spent chatting and playing cards amid my mom’s choreographed dance with the oven. Mateo even offers to join the twins in their video game for a little bit, as if he needed any other brownie points with my parents.
His absence gives Olivia the opportunity to teasingly wave her phone in front of my face, with a photo she took on the sly of Mateo watching me play the piano. “Olivia Jade!” I whisper yell at her, pulling out her middle name like I’m her parent. I push her into the mudroom for further scolding.
“What were you thinking?! You can’t just take pictures of my boyfriend without his consent!”
Her face morphs into feigned innocence. “But look at it, Lana. It’s so sweet. And hot.”
I look at the photo more closely. She’s not lying. My heart warms and does a little flip flop at the look on Mateo’s face.
“He loves you,” Olivia teases, a little too loudly. I slap my hand over her mouth and give her my best death glare.
“This is inappropriate behavior, young lady. A gross invasion of privacy. You need to delete that photo,” I say, crossing my arms.
“I already sent it to my friends group text,” Olivia declares. I groan because that one hundred percent tracks with something she’d do. I snatch the phone out of her hands and pull up her text messages. Sure enough, all her besties have sent back responses of fire or dead emojis and fainting GIFs.
“I cannot believe you,” I mutter under my breath as I delete the photo from the conversation. As I’m pulling up her photo gallery, she grabs the phone out of my hands and angles away from me. I try to reach over her shoulder to get the phone back, but she holds me off long enough to tap a few buttons.
“There!” she declares. “I deleted it from my phone. I just had to text it to you first.” She looks at me with a victorious smirk. My eyes are still narrowed, but no further reprimand crosses my lips. I do want to have that photo.
“You’re welcome, sister dear!” she sings as she sashays past me. I can’t help but laugh.
The doorbell rings, and I rush to greet my grandparents. I fling open the door and immediately give them hugs around the dishes they’re carrying. “Gramma! Grampa! I’m so glad to see you!” One of the gifts of moving to Kansas City was getting to be close to my dad’s parents. We live in different parts of the metro, so it’s still about a thirty-minute drive between our houses, but they were always present at every special occasion and soccer game.
Olivia and the twins have joined us in the foyer and take turns greeting my grandparents. Dean’s uncustomary good-ish mood is still in place, and he gives my grandma a short hug, making her smile. Mom and Dad come to welcome them in and take their dishes and coats.
Mateo is hanging back, so I pull his arm over to introduce him. “Gramma, Grampa, this is my boyfriend Mateo.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Grant, I’ve heard a lot about you from Lana,” Mateo says as he shakes my grandpa’s hand. Gramma skips the handshake for a hug.
“Young man, we’ve heard quite the positive earful about you from Lana’s mother. And you’re even more handsome than she said,” my grandma says with a cheeky grin as she pats Mateo’s shoulder .
“Gramma!” I squeal, but Mateo just chuckles good-naturedly.
He takes my grandma’s hand in both of his and winks at her. “Well, it’s obvious that Lana inherited her beauty from both sides of the family.” He pivots to me and puts his arm around my shoulders, pulling me to his side.
I loop both arms around his waist and smile up at him. “If you’re done charming everyone, we can go in and start eating,” I tease.
Everyone moves toward the dining room, but before we follow, Mateo leans down and whispers in my ear. “I’ll never be done charming you.” His breath against my neck sends a shiver down my spine, which makes him grin.
My grandma has brought her famous cranberry Jello salad and two pies to complete our Thanksgiving spread. Dad prays to bless our meal and give thanks for our time together, and then the delightful chaos of dishes being passed and food being heaped onto plates begins.
We talk about things we’re grateful for from the past year. Mateo shares his thankfulness for his soccer team and their successful season, and then adds, “Will you all just think I’m sucking up if I say the highlight of my year was Lana saying yes to a date?” Everyone laughs, and my cheeks turn pink as Mateo winks at me. I notice that Dean half-heartedly rolls his eyes, but a smile is playing at the edge of his lips. Leave it to Mateo to win over even my cranky teenage brother.
As the meal winds down, my mom brews a pot of decaf coffee. Mateo and I clear the plates from the table as my mom unwraps the pies and sets the polvorosas from Mateo’s mom on a decorative plate. She whispers conspiratorially at us, “Don’t tell, but I already sampled one earlier. They’re simply divine, Mateo.”
“They’re one of my favorites. I’ll pass along your compliments to my mom.”
We linger around the table until my grandma announces that “it’s time for these old folks to get to bed.” She packages up some polvorosas to take home along with the bouquet of flowers from Mateo, leaving the leftover pies with us for tomorrow. We all walk them to the front door to say goodbye, and my grandma whispers in my ear when she hugs me, “He’s a keeper, Lana.”
“I know, Gramma,” I whisper back.
We work collectively to clean up the table, pack up leftovers for the fridge, and load the dishwasher. When we’re done, Mateo says he should head back to his teammate’s house. “They’re being so kind to let me stay with them—I don’t want to get back too late.” I’m a little disappointed, but considering he’s been with us for almost twelve hours today, it does seem fair to let him spend some time with his hosts.
Mateo takes turns telling my family goodbye, giving quick hugs to my mom and Olivia, and shaking hands with my dad and brothers. When he comes to Dean, Mateo pauses to tell him, “I’m going to talk to Parker about the Esports. I’ll give him your number if that’s okay with your mom and dad.” He glances over to my parents, who nod approval.
“I’ll walk you out to your truck,” I tell Mateo. He turns to put on his coat, and Olivia looks at me and makes kissing faces. I shove her maybe a little too hard, and she bumps into the entryway table, squealing, “Hey!”
I pull Mateo’s arm toward the door as I say, “Don’t worry about her, such a clumsy girl.”
We walk down to where his truck is parked along the street. I’m putting faith in my mother to obstruct Olivia from watching us out the window as we say goodbye. Although, come to think of it, my mom might be the one requiring interference. Please come through for me, Dad.
We pause on the sidewalk by the bed of the truck, and I wind my arms around Mateo’s waist. “Thank you so much for coming today. It was perfect.”
He murmurs agreement, holding me tight against his chest with one hand on my lower back and the other cradling the back of my head. I’m lost in my Christmas tree farm spice market and don’t want to go back inside.
Mateo draws back and runs his fingers through my hair, eyes watching as they trail through the entire length before his gaze travels briefly to my lips and then to my eyes. “Lana,” he starts, voice gravelly. “I just want to be honest with you. I think about kissing you every single time I see you. I think about it even when I don’t see you. Every. Freaking. Day.” I glance down briefly, feeling the flush in my cheeks, but look back to meet his gaze. “If I had been following my feelings, I would have kissed you a long time ago.”
I smile softly. “Dancing on our first date, right?”
He huffs out a laugh. “Oh Lana, long before that. And countless times since,” he pauses, brushing his thumb across my cheek. “But I’m going slow because I want kissing you to be a meaningful progression in our relationship. Kissing isn’t just something casual to me.”
His words hug my heart with warmth, the same thoughts I’d expressed to Amaya and Teegan. I smile up at him. “We’re on the same page, Mateo. And I appreciate you communicating your thoughts so openly.”
He smiles back at me and says, “I just didn’t want you thinking that I don’t want to kiss you. Because I absolutely do. Desperately.” I blow out a laugh and look down at my feet before meeting his eyes again. “I never want you wondering how I feel about you, Lana. I’ll always be honest with you.” Mateo cups my face with both hands, fingers sliding over the sensitive skin at the base of my neck. He leans in and gives me a soft kiss on the cheek before whispering goodnight.
My heart dances a fairy-tale waltz as I head inside. I nibble on another polvorosa as I half-heartedly make conversation with my parents. I’m sure they can sense my mind is elsewhere, so they make excuses about being tired and hug me goodnight before heading to their room.
Up in my room, I turn on my Magical Mellow playlist full of mostly ethereal love songs as I remove my makeup and change into pajamas. I cuddle up under a pile of blankets in bed and send a “Happy Thanksgiving!” message to the Beefs’ group text.
I click to my conversation with Olivia and save the photo of Mateo she sent to me. He’s leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together, a slight smile just barely making his dimple show. His feelings for me are on open display all over his face.
Ed Sheeran’s voice is quietly singing “Magical,” and my fingers tap along with the refrain. I click my phone off and hold it to my chest, closing my eyes. If this magic isn’t what it feels like to be in love, I sure don’t know what is.
The next morning, I wake slowly, in no rush to leave my warm cocoon of blankets. I dart one hand out to grab my phone to check the time. My phone screen reads 9:38 a.m. along with text notification icons. I unlock it and see that Mateo sent me a text at 7:30 this morning.
Mateo
Check your email. Early Christmas present
I smile to myself and sit up, readjusting my blankets around my shoulders. I open my email and see several marketing messages. At first, I don’t see anything obviously from Mateo, but then I notice an email from The Piano Guys website with an attachment. I open it to see a digital download of the sheet music to their version of “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran. In the additional notes section of the email is a message from Mateo: Will you learn this one next?
Grinning to myself, I immediately download the PDF and send it to my parents’ printer. I get out of bed and pull on my slippers and two sweatshirts. Rushing downstairs, I call “Good morning” as I breeze past my parents to retrieve the music from the printer. I flip through the pages. Sheesh, this is challenging. I unlock my phone to text Mateo.
1. You are the sweetest ever. 2. You massively overestimate my piano skills
Seconds later, the three dots start bouncing.
I don’t think it’s possible to overestimate you
And now you’ve beat me to thoughtful Christmas gifts already. Not even a heads up to get you something. Unfair
I already have everything I want
Just start practicing the song so I can hear you play it. Christmas gift checkmark emoji
Sigh. I can’t even scold you without you being sweet
shrugging emoji
Enjoy your day with your family
I will. Sorry you have to head straight back to work mode for soccer
It’s okay. There’s a lot of pressure on us to perform since we won last year and had an undefeated season. I know coach is just trying to give us our best shot
Call me later tonight?
Of course. Now go practice the piano
heart emoji
I walk back to the kitchen to get coffee and give my parents a proper morning greeting.
“What on earth were you printing at this time of day?” my mom asks with a mouth full of polvorosa .
I laugh. “Healthy breakfast there, Mom.” She holds out the container to me with an inviting little shake, and I can’t help but reach in and take one for myself. I pour coffee into my favorite Christmas mug and say, “Mateo bought me some new Piano Guys sheet music as an early Christmas gift.”
My mom makes a little “Hmmm” sound as I sit down at the table between her and Dad. I raise my eyebrows at her, and she says, “It’s a very thoughtful gift. From a boy who seems to think very much of you.”
I don’t even blush, just grin at her comment. “He does, doesn’t he?”
“He has my blessing if he asks,” my dad says without even looking up from the news on his phone.
“Dad!”
“What? We’re all thinking it, Lana. Seems just a matter of time,” he declares, as though stating a well-known fact.
I chew a bite of polvorosa and pull my knees up to my chest on my chair. Pretending to study the sheet music in front of me, my mind is thinking back to my stolen moments yesterday with Mateo in the hallway and outside by his truck.
Those memories play on loop for the rest of the weekend whenever I have moments to myself between playing games with my siblings, practicing my new piano music, and talking with my parents. We go to see the Christmas lights at the Plaza, and I can’t help but imagine Mateo experiencing it with me someday. I’m starting to imagine everything with him.