Chapter 2
Meddlesome
Mateo
Iwalk into the mud room of the main farmhouse, the smell of carne asada and beans greeting me before Mami’s voice rings out.
“Hijo, is that you?”
“Sí, Mami,” I shout as I shuck off my muddy boots next to the door.
“Go tell tu hermana that dinner is ready.”
“Ay,” rolls off my tongue, and I bite back a sarcastic reply. My inner thoughts on being a substitute parent for my teenage sisters don’t need to be said today. Today, I’m choosing to be peacemaker Mateo, not stir-the-pot-of-beans Mateo.
My socks slide against the laminate floor as I rush past the kitchen.
I grab hold of the banister at the end of the stairs and use it as an anchor to spin me around and into the living room.
I catch myself against the couch, jostling it enough to get Nadia’s attention.
She looks up from her paperback and pulls out her earbuds, arching an eyebrow at me.
It’s teenager talk for “What do you want?”, which I’ve become fluent in.
“Dinner is ready. You better get in there before Mami comes out here. Don’t want her to find your nose stuck in another romance novel Cruz lent you instead of doing your chores.”
Nadia crinkles her nose and sticks out her tongue at me. “You’re such a bum. I was just getting to the part where they finally confess their love for each other.”
I push off the couch and slide on my socks back toward the kitchen. “Guess you’ll have to wait until after dinner to find out if they’re in love or if the author kills off a beloved character. In which case I'd question their choice to write romance.”
There’s a lot of unintelligible grumbling from the couch as I slide away, and definitely a stink eye aimed in my direction.
Welp, it’s a good thing I’m not her dad and am only her older brother. Even if on some days it feels like I’m spending more time with her than my actual parents do.
I return to the kitchen counters where a frenzied Mami has laid out supplies for tonight's dinner: tacos. She even has a bowl of fresh salsa, which, this early in summer, is a rarity.
“Mami, what do you need help with?” I wrap my arm around her, stopping her in her tracks.
“Condiments, platos, and silverware.”
“Sí.” I nod and set to work, putting everything we need along the kitchen island. The mudroom door opens and the thuds of boots echo as Dad walks in, followed by a few of the laborers we hired to help with the early harvest.
I stare at my dad, who has a Cheshire grin on his face, his gaze is trained on me.
“What’s got you lookin’ as happy as a pig in mud?” I ask as I grab a stack of plates from the cupboard by the fridge.
He walks over and slaps me on the back in a half-hug gesture. “I have it on good authority that Red’s daughter is back in town visiting. She’s staying at the fire station with him. She’s two years younger than you and when I mentioned you were single, she seemed very interested.”
A groan emits from my throat before I can stop it.
“Dad, I don’t need you setting me up on dates.”
“But mijo," Mami pipes in from where she’s flipping tortillas on the griddle, "we just want you to be happy. We know there aren’t a lot of women in Bolt who are right for you. You’re busy working on the farm. Let us help you.”
“Mami, I’m twenty-six years old. I don’t need your help with my love life,” I protest as I put the stack of plates next to the napkins and silverware at the end of the kitchen island.
“Remember the last time you set me up, which was just last week? The girl was trying to sit in my lap twenty minutes into the date—and we were sitting on opposite sides of the table. She couldn’t stop touching me.
Not to mention the date before that one where she definitely was not twenty-four. ”
“Okay, so my track record no es bueno.” She shrugs and flips another tortilla before turning to look at me again.
“But still, you know Red is a good man. Wouldn’t it be fun to be related to him?
If you have any ninos, you wouldn’t have to travel somewhere else for holidays. We can all celebrate here together.”
I groan and cover my eyes, the chuckles from the laborers only increasing the frustration building in my chest.
“I do not need your help finding a wife, Mami. Nor do I need your interference, Dad. I know what I want in a woman and I will find her on my own.”
Mami tsks and Dad just shrugs at my outburst. Nadia’s snickers from where she’s now sitting at the table have the hairs on the back of my neck rising.
Why is my love life the joke they all want to laugh about, or the problem they insist on meddling in? I’m tired of the constant blind dates. Why can’t my perfect girl just magically end up in Bolt like Alex did for Reina?
My mind skips over my now married best friends to think about Alex’s sister, Holly.
If only Holly could magically move to Bolt to marry me.
I take a seat at the table and mentally push away the pipe dream of something ever happening with Holly.
We’ve talked maybe five times in my life, though I’ve seen her more often than that.
We just haven’t talked because my small crush has me tongue tied.
That alone tells me she’s special, because I'm not easily fumbling for words.
I can’t get the picture of her on the red carpet from last month out of my head. Our trip to Wendy’s was the date of my dreams. Too bad it wasn’t really a date, and was just me rescuing her from a piece of toadflax.
Chairs scrape across the floor as everyone sits around the big oak farm table I built five years ago. Dad sits at the head as he always does and invites Nadia to pray. I bow my head, and after some slight protesting, she offers the prayer.
There’s a chorus of amens, but I don’t move. My heart lets out a silent plea.
Lord, I love my family. You know I do. But, I think I need a little break, or a little bit of space. I want to be an independent man. I want to find my own wife. Please help me.
I stay put, the same words repeating in my head until Mami's hand grips my forearm.
“Hijo, I love you. I’m so grateful you’re here. What would we do without you?”
Now isn’t that the question of the century?