Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
E ight days later, I’m on another airplane, this time flying north to Grand Rapids, where Mateo’s sister, Isabel, will pick me up from the airport. With my parents’ enthusiastic support of the trip, Luis and I coordinated dates for me to fly up for a few days. His wife, Rosa, and Isabel are both in on the surprise, but Mateo has no idea.
It was so hard to keep a secret from him, especially since we had more free time during finals week to spend together than we had all semester long. It’s amazing how much schedules open up when classes and soccer practices are both over.
The plane begins its descent, and thirty minutes later, I’m wheeling my carry-on through the airport, following the ground transportation signs. Isabel got my number from Luis and texted me that she was here, assuring me that she would recognize me instantly from “the zillion photos” Mateo has shown her.
Sure enough, the second I exit the automatic doors, I hear my name called out just before a woman I assume to be Isabel nearly bowls me over in a hug.
Laughing, I hug her back. “The Michigan tourism department should hire you to greet all visitors at the airport,” I say as I draw back to look at her. “It’s so great to meet you, Isabel. ”
She shares Mateo’s same skin tone and eyes, though hers are a shade darker than his. Her hair falls just to her shoulders, and deep dimples show up in both cheeks with her warm smile.
“Call me Isa, all my family does. I can’t believe I’m finally getting to meet you! Ay, my mom is so mad that I’m seeing you before her, but there’s no way she could have left the restaurant today without raising suspicion,” Isabel chatters. She loops her arm through mine and leads the way to the parking garage. “I’ve been hearing about you for so long; I thought I would never meet you in the flesh, and now here we are.”
“It’s only been a few months,” I say with a chuckle, but Isabel immediately waves her free hand at me as if dismissing away my comment.
“Chica , no, Mateo has been telling me about you for years ,” she says firmly. “Literally, years. It’s about time he finally snatched you away from that dumb other boy.”
My cheeks warm. I knew that Mateo had liked me that long, but I had no idea that he openly talked about it with his sister, or that he had explained the situation with Aaron to her. That makes his feelings for me all these years seem that much more real.
Isabel unlocks her car, and I slide my suitcase into the backseat before sitting next to her in the passenger side. “So did you like the playlist we made for your first date?” Isabel asks as she backs out of the parking spot.
“Wait, you made that playlist? Mateo did not mention that,” I say with a laugh.
Isabel tsks . “Of course he’d take all the credit. He told me that you listened to chill music, and he knew that you liked Taylor Swift and the cello, but I took it from there. He listened to what I put together and deleted a couple of songs and added a few others, but consider me the DJ of your relationship.” Isabel makes a small bowing gesture. I can tell I’m going to have a great time getting to know Isabel. I’m grateful we have this hour drive alone together.
She pulls no punches and jumps right into the deep end as she pulls onto the highway. “So, you really didn’t like Mateo before he asked you out? You were just obsessed with that other guy the whole time?”
I groan and bury my face in my hands. “Isa, you couldn’t throw me a soft pitch question first?”
She tsks again. “Sorry no, hermana , you’re a soccer player, not softball. We get straight into it,” she says with a playful smile as she glances over at me.
“Okay, okay, it’s true, Mateo wasn’t really on my radar. Like, at all,” I admit. I briefly fill her in on how I started to like Aaron at our first Summer Project and was just kinda stuck on him despite him being so cagey about the status of our relationship. Or lack thereof.
Isabel frowns. “Ayyyyy dios mio , then it’s my fault it took so long for you and Mateo to finally get together. Maybe if he was there that summer you would have noticed him sooner.”
Mateo mentioned that he spent that summer at home because Isabel was having a hard time, and as much as I’m dying to know the details, I don’t want to make her share if she doesn’t want to. “Nothing is your fault Isabel, and we’re together now, so it’s all turned out okay. It’s good that Mateo got to spend that summer here with family.”
“He hasn’t told you anything about that time, has he,” Isabel says, more as a statement than a question. “Of course, he would be too considerate to tell you about my bad choices.”
I wait silently as she changes lanes to pass a car. Despite what looks like deep, recent snow, the roads are completely clear. Props to Michigan’s winter preparedness.
“I went off to college not really knowing what I wanted to do,” Isabel begins. “But my parents were so adamant about wanting us to get a college education, and Miguel was doing so well at Michigan, so I figured I should just go to a community college and get some gen eds out of the way until I decided what I wanted to major in. Unfortunately, the only thing I wound up majoring in was guys. And partying.”
Isabel goes on to tell me about the guy she started dating toward the end of her freshman year who eventually introduced her to opioids. She failed out by the end of the fall semester sophomore year and moved in with her boyfriend, despite her parents’ pleas to come back home.
“Mateo and I are a year and a half apart in age, but only a grade apart in school, so this was happening during his freshman year at Townsend,” Isabel explains. “Right before spring break, I overdosed and almost died—I would have if not for the paramedics responding quickly.”
My heart drops. “Isa, that’s awful. It must have been terrifying to wake up in the hospital,” I say quietly, watching Isabel as she watches the road.
She shrugs one shoulder. “It was awful, but at the same time, it was the best thing that could have happened. It woke me up to the fact that I needed help. Seeing my parents scared that their only daughter was going to die finally snapped me out of it. I went straight to rehab.
“I moved back in with my parents after rehab but kept attending weekly meetings. Mateo coming home that summer to support me meant the world, and hearing about how he had grown in his faith at college opened me up to being interested in going back to church with him. I found the missing piece, the strength outside myself that I needed to stay clean and keep growing. Between Mateo going with me to church, my parents giving me a place to land, a great therapist, and my sponsor at my recovery meetings, I had the support I needed to keep me on track,” Isabel concludes.
I’m momentarily speechless, so blown away at the resilience of Mateo’s family and all they’ve faced. “Thanks for trusting me with that part of your story, Isa. I’m sure it must be hard to talk about,” I finally say.
“It gets a little easier every time I talk about it, and I know that God can use me sharing my story to help other people,” Isa shares. “And now I finally know what I want to do with my future. I’m going back to college so I can become a school counselor. I hope I can use my experience to help high school girls be better prepared and informed to make decisions about their futures.”
“That’s amazing, Isa!” I exclaim. “When will you start?”
“I’m working as a para-educator in our local school district right now, but I’ll start taking night classes next semester and transition full time eventually,” she says proudly.
Isabel asks a few questions about my college experience and the law school process. Before I know it, we’re slowing way down as we pull into the outskirts of Hart. My heart starts pounding with anticipation.
“So, what’s the surprise plan here?” I ask.
“Mateo was helping my parents with the Sunday lunch rush, but then Mom was supposed to convince him that they could all go home to take a break mid-afternoon before going back for dinner service. So we’ll go surprise them at home, and then we’ll all go back to the restaurant tonight. It’s closed tomorrow, so you’ll have the day to hang out with my parents,” Isabel explains. “And I’ll come back over after school is out.”
I nod as Isabel slows the car and pulls into a driveway. The single-story bungalow is decked out with Christmas lights and a huge wreath on the front door. Excitement rushes through me at the thought of seeing Mateo, especially surprising him.
Isabel tells me to wait for a minute in the car, then bounds up the porch steps to swing open the front door. I hear her yelling, “Hey! Hermano ! Come help me bring something in from the car! Apúrate !”
She returns and leans her head in the driver’s door with a merry twinkle in her eye. “Okay, wait till he comes down the steps and then open up the door!”
Seconds later, I see Mateo come out the front door, and feel my heart suddenly in my throat. It’s only been a few days since I last saw him, but watching him come out of his childhood home, knowing I’m about to spend time with him and his family, has me feeling all sorts of ways.
The fact that he looks incredibly hot in jeans and a fitted long-sleeve tee, with slightly longer than usual stubble is not helping matters.
I see Luis come out on the porch right after Mateo with a wide grin, followed closely by a beautiful woman who has to be Rosa.
“Sheesh, practice a little patience, Isa,” Mateo is teasing as he walks toward the car. He jolts to a stop with a look of total shock the moment I stand up out of the car and close the door.
“No way!” he exclaims, glancing at Isabel and then back at his parents, who are all beaming at him. The next moment he’s racing toward me and scoops me into his arms, twirling me around as I laugh.
“You’re here!” he says as he draws back to look into my eyes. “I can’t believe you’re here! Am I dreaming? Pinch me,” he adds with that dimpled smile.
“Hey, no pinching allowed, remember?” I tease before leaning in to give him another hug. His hands are woven through my hair against my back, clutching me like he’ll never let go. “All credit goes to your dad; this was his idea,” I say as I tip my head back to smile up at Mateo.
My mention of his dad seems to remind him that we’re standing in front of his house with his family. He moves to my side with one arm around my shoulders, and we walk toward the porch. “Apparently, you’ve already met Isa, and you know my dad,” Mateo says as Luis grins and tips his head at me. “But Lana, meet my mom, Rosa. Mamá , this is Lana.”
Rosa has stepped down to meet us on the walk up to the porch, and she immediately pulls me into a tight embrace. “ El corazón de mi hijo , finally I meet you,” she says with such tenderness that tears spring to my eyes. She pulls back with her hands on my shoulders, looking me over with a soft smile. “You’re so beautiful, and so kind, I can already tell,” Rosa declares in beautifully accented English as she places a hand on my cheek.
“It’s so good to meet you, too,” I reply. “Thank you for inviting me into your home at such a busy time before Christmas.”
“You are so dear to our Mateo, you are already family, Lana,” she asserts. “And your parents welcomed Mateo at Thanksgiving when he couldn’t be home with us. That meant so much to this mother’s heart.”
“My parents loved having him with us, and we loved the polvorosas you sent,” I gush to her. “In my suitcase, I have a container of homemade peanut brittle my mom made for you.”
Rosa smiles widely and gestures toward the front door. “Come in, come in! Let’s get out of the cold!” I look back at Mateo in time to see a sheen of moisture in his eyes. Luis steps forward to wrap me up in a hug, then announces he’ll carry in my suitcase from Isabel’s car. Mateo threads his fingers through mine and leads me up the porch steps into the house.
“It’s all making a lot more sense now why my mom was so worried about cleaning the house yesterday,” he says with a smirk. “I still can’t believe you’re here. I’m floored that my dad thought this up and pulled off the surprise.”
“Hey, give some credit where credit is due!” Isabel exclaims with a whine as she comes in behind us. She pops her fists on either hip and says, “ Tu novia wouldn’t be standing here if I didn’t drive to the airport.”
Mateo gives Isabel a teasing noogie on the head, earning an exasperated swat from her, but then he wraps an arm around her in a hug and gives her a brotherly peck on the top of her head. “A million thanks to you, hermana . I owe you big time.”
Rosa leads me to Isabel’s old room to put my suitcase away and take a few minutes to freshen up after traveling. I come out of the bathroom, smiling as I listen to the spirited Spanish conversation coming from the kitchen. I pause in the hallway, hiding to listen to Mateo’s voice as he converses with his family, breath catching every time I hear my name. I always love the sound of his voice saying my name, but hearing it in the midst of this conversation with his family makes my heart race.
I make my way into the kitchen, where Isabel is perched on top of the counter with Mateo leaning against it next to her. Luis has his arm around Rosa leaning against the cabinets opposite of them. “Lana! We were just talking about you,” Isabel declares exuberantly.
Mateo’s face lights up at me, and he raises his arm to welcome me to tuck myself into his side. I lean into him as I laugh. “I’m at a serious disadvantage here being the only one who isn’t bilingual.”
“Don’t worry, everyone’s just discussing how much we love you,” Isabel assures me, with a wink and mischievous smile in Mateo’s direction. Luis stifles a laugh.
Mateo clears his throat and says, “We were talking about the plan for the rest of the day. Would you be okay coming with us to the restaurant for the evening?”
I dance up on my toes and let go of Mateo to clap my hands. “Yes! I’ve wanted to see the restaurant ever since Mateo told me about it!” I turn to Rosa. “He raves about your cooking, and I’ve been dying to try it.”
Rosa waves me off, but the pleased look on her face shows she appreciates the praise. “Oh, it’s nothing too special,” she says. “You Americans are more accustomed to Mexican food, so you’ll see a lot of familiar things on the menu. But I add my Guatemalan flair wherever I can.”
“ Mamá , you say that as though your own grandfather wasn’t Mexican,” Isabel teases. Rosa simply shrugs, and I stifle a laugh.
After standing around chatting a bit more, we make our way to the restaurant. Isabel takes her car so she can drive straight home after, and we take Mateo’s truck so we can leave early if I get tired. I appreciate the few minutes alone with Mateo as we make the short drive to “downtown” Hart. There’s a small amphitheater overlooking Hart Lake, which Mateo says is used for musical performances throughout the summer. There’s a big festival and fireworks show for Fourth of July. Mateo points out other noteworthy places from his upbringing as we drive, and I’m loving getting this deeper glimpse into his life.
We pull up to a brick building on the corner with big windows brightened by multi-color Christmas lights. The sign above the door reads La Mesa de Familia. “The Family Table,” I read aloud, and Mateo gives me a nod of approval.
Heading inside, I look around and take it all in. Vibrant colors, tantalizing smells, sounds of animated conversations and laughter fill the air. The host stand at the front is painted with a Guatemalan flag, and upbeat Spanish music plays over the speakers.
I grin up at Mateo. “This place is amazing.”
He smiles back at me. “ La Mesa is like the sixth member of our family. Miguel, Isabel, and I all grew up here. We worked every job from waiting tables to washing dishes, cooking to unloading deliveries. This place helped raise us.”
Mateo quickly shows me around. Luis and Rosa are already back in the kitchen cooking, and Isabel is waiting tables. Mateo tells me we’re on host duty, greeting guests, showing them to their tables, and taking payments at the cash register.
Well, he’s on duty. I mostly just sit on a stool next to him, admiring how attractive he looks here in his element, chatting with people who have known him his whole life. When it starts to slow down later in the evening, I ask Mateo if it would be okay for me to go watch his mom cook. “She would definitely love to show off for you,” he responds with a grin.
I head back to the kitchen, announcing my presence to Rosa. I watch her gracefully move through the kitchen, stirring, frying, and spooning sauces over food on plates to send out to hungry guests. She truly is impressive.
Orders slow to a trickle as the hour grows later, and Rosa starts heaping a little of everything onto a plate for me to taste. Luis takes over preparing the handful of orders that come through as Rosa stands with me, explaining each dish as I take a bite, her smile widening as I moan in pleasure with each one. “Rosa, this is all so delicious. I can’t imagine getting to eat like this every day!”
“Now you see why I was out running for soccer all the time—I had to work off all the calories my mom fed me,” Mateo’s voice says behind me. I turn to see him sauntering into the kitchen. “But make sure you save some room for dessert, because Mamá makes the best mole de platano you’ll ever eat.”
By the time I finish my plate of samples, I’m completely stuffed, but I find room in a second stomach when Rosa presents me with a dish of fried plantains covered in mole sauce, sprinkled with cinnamon and sesame seeds. The hint of heat from the chili and the spiciness of the cinnamon balance out the sweetness of the chocolate.
It’s to die for. “I want to eat this every day for the rest of my life,” I tell Rosa and Mateo as I lick my spoon. Rosa smiles approvingly before moving to clean up the food prep area.
“In the ultimate dessert tournament, tiramisu and mole de platano are the top two finalists—which will be the winner?” Mateo asks me with a raised eyebrow.
“Ugh, don’t make me answer that!”
We stay to help clean up the kitchen and wipe down the tables. Luis and Rosa have a process to close the restaurant until Tuesday, so they send Mateo and me home after I stifle my third yawn. After an early morning getting to the airport and with a belly full of amazing food, I’m ready to doze off.
We walk in the front door, and I lazily stretch my arms above my head as I yawn yet again. Mateo slips his arms around me from behind, pulling my back against his chest and burying his face into my neck. He inhales deeply, then says quietly, “You should go ahead and get some sleep. There’s no telling exactly what time my parents will get back home.”
Another yawn breaks through at that exact moment, so I nod my head in agreement. “What’s the plan tomorrow?”
“The restaurant is closed on Mondays, so we’ll all be able to relax and just hang. Isabel will come over for dinner after school is over. I’ll get up early to shower in the morning so you can sleep in and then have the bathroom,” he says.
Mateo is so thoughtful about literally everything. Here in his hometown, getting to know his family, I’m understanding more and more how he comes by all his incredible-ness.
He tucks my hair behind my ear as he tells me goodnight. I hear Mateo in the kitchen loading the dishwasher as I leave the bathroom in my pajamas. I’m tempted to go back out to talk to him, but my heavy eyelids are telling me to go to bed.
I curl up in Isabel’s old bed, feeling cozy under layers of heavy blankets. I laugh when I notice an old Twilight poster on the door of the closet. Sleep overtakes me quickly as I close my eyes with a smile.