Chapter Eleven #2
And it wasn’t just her parents. Her entire family seemed to be here. Jaime recognized an aunt standing in the driveway and saw an uncle walk inside with a big plate of food.
Hopefully, the next crime in the Canal wouldn’t be a revenge murder—of himself.
Santi got out of the car and assessed the scene. “Wow. It’s a full family day for you. When’s the wedding?”
“Shut up, man. This is awkward as hell. But thanks for being my wingman.”
“Anytime.”
The scent of citrus and spice from the carne asada soothed his nerves. Dammit—why hadn’t he asked Alma to stop at the store to buy her mother flowers?
Alma approached the door, but before she opened it, it flew open. Carlos stood there with a smug grin on his face.
Alma’s parents lurked in the background. It was showtime.
“Hola, Senor y Senora Garcia.”
“Hola, Jaime!” Senora Garcia pulled Jaime in close to her and squeezed him tight. “Welcome back! I missed you, mijo,” she whispered into his ear. “Carlos told me you came back to help our community.”
Jaime was grateful that Carlos covered for him and made his intentions for coming back into town seem honorable. But he refused to lie to Alma’s mom.
“I missed you, too. But Carlos is mistaken. I’m happy to help the Canal, but I’m afraid my reason for coming wasn’t altruistic.” That explanation was sufficient—she didn’t need the details.
Senora Garcia nodded.
Senor Garcia shook Jaime’s hand and looked him dead in the eyes. “Good to see you again. We need to talk.”
Great. This was great.
Jaime should’ve grabbed Santi and hightailed it out of there. This day was already out of hand.
But Jaime wanted to get this awkwardness over with.
“Good to see you, too. Let’s talk now.”
Senor Garcia’s eyes looked toward the backyard. “Follow me.” He led Jaime outside. A bunch of Alma’s cousins and aunts and uncles were milling around. One of her cousins leveled Jaime with his eyes.
“Hey, Emilio.”
Emilio nodded in acknowledgment but remained silent.
Senor Garcia stood underneath a big lemon tree, which was adjacent to a skinny lime tree. “So, you’ve come back to see Alma. My wife knew you would.”
Jaime’s throat tightened. Even worse, her family members were staring at them, talking.
“I did, sir. But not romantically. That ship has sailed. She will never forgive me.” Jaime spoke the truth.
Alma would never forgive him. But Jaime still wasn’t sure he wanted to even try to have a relationship with her, if she could find a way to let him back into her heart.
He was too young to commit, and he didn’t, he wouldn’t break Alma’s heart again. Not that he even had the option to.
He should’ve never come to Marin.
“You must be patient. She still loves you. We love you.”
Jaime wasn’t used to people openly telling him they loved him. His family wasn’t expressive with terms of endearment. He tried to tell Senor Garcia that he loved him too, but he couldn’t get the words out of his mouth.
He studied the old man’s face, the lines deeper, his skin more leathered than Jaime remembered. It was only three years ago that they’d last seen each other. “I have apologized to her about how I left her. I was so young and stupid. And I want to apologize to you as well.”
“Apology accepted. Let’s go eat.”
Senor Garcia placed his hand on Jaime’s back.
Jaime’s heart grew. Why couldn’t he have backyard barbecues with his parents instead of pretentious dinners at the latest Michelin three-star restaurant with his mother and her latest boy toy, who was usually Jaime’s age?
And he hadn’t seen his dad in a while. He wasn’t even that pissed at him—Jaime knew what his dad had done with Julieta’s restaurant was unforgivable, but that had been two years ago now.
Ramón had repaired the damage, and the company was stronger than ever.
Enrique had seen their dad recently, but Jaime still hadn’t talked to him.
He had justified it by saying that his father was the one who was supposed to reach out.
But at this point, did whoever would make the first move really matter?
Jaime met up with Santi at the long table full of food. Jaime loaded his plate up with tortillas, carne asada fresh off the grill, beans, rice, guacamole, and pico de gallo.
Santi grinned. “Bro, her parents are cool as fuck for inviting you in.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I wish I could grill with my father.”
“I’m sorry, man.” Jaime clapped Santi’s shoulder. There were no words needed. Life was short.
Jaime took out his phone and texted his dad.
Jaime: Hey. I’m in Marin. Hope you’re okay.
A few seconds later, a message popped up.
Dad: I’m good. I miss you. I’d love to have dinner with you.
Jaime: I’m pretty busy. I’ll let you know when I have time.
It was a little cold, but what could his dad expect? They had never been close. By the time Jaime was born, his father had been so wrapped up in his business that he was never around.
Dad: Understand. Thanks for reaching out.
Unease creeped up on him, but Jaime couldn’t focus on his father now. He walked over to Alma, who was sitting at a table, eating tacos and chatting with her cousins. She snuck a piece of meat to Tequila, who was snorting and begging under her chair.
She smirked. “Good to see you survived your chat with my father. Sorry, he can be intense.”
“Nah, it was good.” Jaime paused, fork halfway to his mouth. “I’m sure he’s nice to all the men you bring around.”
“Ha!” her cousin snorted from the other side of the table.
Alma shot daggers at him.
“What?” Jaime asked.
“She’s not brought anyone home since you, bro,” Carlos filled in the blanks. “Ow! What was that for?”
Alma shrugged innocently, and Jaime had to smile. She still had that fire alright.
“Have you really not dated since me?” he asked her.
She doused her taco with some Valentina hot sauce and took another bite. “Dated is a strong word.”
“Got it.”
A bitter taste filled Jaime’s mouth, and it wasn’t from the lime he squeezed over his meat. She said dated, not fucked. Of course, Jaime wasn’t delusional enough to believe that his sexy-ass ex had been celibate since he left her. He most certainly hadn’t.
But the thought of Alma naked, riding some other man, screaming his name, was almost too much for him to bear.
He forced himself to come back to the present. After their horrible reunion, she was not only speaking to him but was sitting next to him eating tacos at her parents’ house. That was major progress. He had to focus on the present.
She shoved the last bit of food down her throat and then licked her lips. “I’ve got to run. Need to be at the bar at four.”
Jaime positioned his knee to rub against hers, and she didn’t move away.
“So, can I get your number to set up brunch next Sunday?”
She gazed into his eyes. The space between them was ripe with tension.
“Sure.”
He handed her his phone and she typed in her number.
“You’re really a good man for doing that fundraiser for Leti. I mean that.”
“Thanks. I love Leti. It’s a prom—I’m not her date, but I’m her host to make sure she has a good time. Every girl should have a prom. She has a great date, per Santi. Another boy she goes to school with.”
Her face crinkled, and she leaned into him. Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Why, Jaime, do you have to be so sweet? It makes me remember why I loved you.”
“When was I ever sweet?”
“When we first fell in love. You were always going out of your way to do kind stuff for me. Rubbing my feet when I studied, taking me to expensive restaurants you knew there was no way I could afford, so I could taste the wines on the list, believing in me.”
“I still believe in you, Alma. What you’ve accomplished is so inspiring.” He paused and pushed a lock of her hair off her face. “You don’t need me. You never did.”
She pursed her lips. “That’s where you’re wrong. I did need you then.”
Jaime was careful to notice that she did not say that she needed him now in any way, shape, or form.
“I’m going to bounce. But you can come and take me to brunch next Sunday. Pick me up at my bar at ten.”
Yes, score. “Where are we going?”
She pressed her lips against his cheek. “I’ll let you know. But it will be dog friendly. Tequila comes with me.”
“Sounds like a date.”
“It’s most certainly not a date. It’s a business meeting. I’m glad you’re back, Jaime. I missed you.”
It was so simple, so easy to be around her.
Alma stood up and left the backyard.
Carlos stole Alma’s chair. “You two seem cozy.”
“Yeah. We’re having brunch next Sunday.”
“Impressive. So, I was thinking, I know you’re staying with Santi, and who can beat Bolinas? But you could spend some time in the Canal.”
“Sure. When?”
“We can hang out here, and I can show you the neighborhood. I think you could make a real difference, and I know I only have you for a limited time, so I’m going to milk it for all I can get. I want to take you around so you can meet people.”
No. Jaime’s initial thought was a hard no. He had planned to spend this break learning about tequila and hanging with Santi on the beach.
But he couldn’t turn his back on the Canal. Not now.
He could go to the schools. Talk about Taco King and social media. Help Carlos coach soccer. Raise money.
And it wasn’t just for Alma. It was for Carlos. It was for the boys like Victor, the little kid he’d played soccer with earlier that day.
“I’d love to.”
“Cool. One more thing. Do you want to come over tomorrow night for Sunday family dinner?”
Jaime exhaled. He didn’t even want to ask if Alma was coming. Carlos said family dinner, so the assumption was there.
He wanted to say no, give Alma some space.
But at the same time, he wanted to spend as much time with her as possible and their planned brunch was a week away.
“Absolutely. But this time, please, at least tell Alma.”