Chapter 11 – Analyse
Chapter Eleven
ANALYSE
One new text from The Council of Chaos.
Anna
Lyse, get your ass up. We’re picking pumpkins!
It’s been a few days since I’ve seen the girls in person, and apparently, that’s a few days too long. I’m not surprised. The Council of Chaos runs on group selfies, seasonal snacks, a shit-ton of wine, and wildly unsolicited check-ins.
I text back.
Analyse
Do I have a choice?
Anna
Absolutely not.
Mariana
We’re bringing the flannel. Don’t fight it.
Analyse
Are the guys coming along for this kidnapping?
Mariana
Seba is. Andres said only if there’s hot cider and zero photo obligations.
Anna
Which means he’s coming and we’re forcing him into a leaf pile…and taking loads of pictures.
Mariana
Tell your man to get his ass up and ready to go, too.
I smile despite myself. My man. If they only knew. But it’s easier this way. Let them believe it’s real. I toss my phone onto the bed, pull on a sweater, and grab a flannel for Maya.
Pumpkins await.
The pumpkin patch is about twenty minutes outside of town, tucked behind a farmstand that sells cinnamon donuts, fresh honey, and apple cider so good that you’ll never want to buy the store-bought stuff ever again.
By the time we pull up, Anna’s already texting where to meet her, and Mariana is sending selfies from between two hay bales. After I unhook her from her booster seat, Maya practically launches herself out of the car.
“Mami, can we get apple cider and donuts?” she asks, eyes wide, curls bouncing.
“Let’s start with one,” I say, grabbing our bag from the back seat. “Then we’ll negotiate.”
She grins, knowing she’ll win in the end.
We spot the girls near a row of wagons lined up for hayrides. Anna’s wearing her it’s fall y’all sweatshirt, and Mariana’s already clutching a latte.
“Oh thank God,” Anna says when she sees us. “I was starting to think you were bailing and I was going to have to find a new best friend in the maze.”
“Tempting,” I say. “But I figured you’d haunt me until I gave in.”
“Correct,” Mariana adds. “Also, you look cute. Love the boots.”
I glance down at the ones I only wear this time of the year. “Thanks. They’re my ‘pretend I’m not exhausted’ boots.”
Maya’s already tugging at my hand. “Can we go pick pumpkins now?”
“Let’s go!” Mariana says, looping her arm through Maya’s. “We’re finding you the biggest pumpkin here.”
We make our way into the field, winding between rows of round, lopsided, dirt-covered pumpkins. Maya darts ahead, inspecting each one, wanting the perfect pumpkins for our front porch. She mentioned wanting to find white pumpkins as well. I hope she finds exactly what she wants.
Mariana trails beside her, nodding seriously every time Maya announces, “This one’s almost perfect, but not quite.”
Anna nudges me. “So…where is he?”
I blink. “Who?”
She gives me a look. “Your man, girl. Your tall, broody, makes all the ladies wanna drop their panties fireman.”
“Drop their panties.” I snort. “I don’t know. I texted him where we’d be, and said he can come if he’d like.”
“Not you trying to play it cool,” Anna says. “He’s already yours”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah…for now.”
Anna’s face softens. “Lyse. I know I said things when I found out you two were together—probably too much. But I think Mateo is making me eat my words.” She nudges me lightly. “He shows up for you. Consistently. That’s not nothing.”
I don’t say anything, so she keeps going.
“I think he loves you. And if this hesitation is about Nico…I get it. He’s a monumental jerk. What he did to you was unforgivable. He left. And he let you carry everything alone. But I hope you won’t let what he broke stop you from accepting something that’s good. Something that’s real.
“He’s crazy about you,” she adds. “Anyone with eyes can see that. Don’t talk yourself out of something that feels right just because it’s unfamiliar.”
“Love,” I scoff. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We’re having fun.”
“Where’s my best girl?” A voice cuts in behind us.
His voice. I turn. Seb’s leading the way, grinning and cracking a total dad joke. “What do you get when you drop a pumpkin? Squash.”
Anna groans immediately. “Absolutely not.”
“Yes,” Seb says proudly. “I’ve been saving that one.”
Behind him, Andres sips from a cider, unfazed. “He told it in the car. Didn’t land there either.”
And then I see him. Mateo. Trailing behind them, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, curls slightly mussed from the wind. His eyes find mine like they always seem to do.
My heart quickens, my stomach flips. Nope. Shut that down, Lyse.
Maya yells, “Mateoooooo!” and takes off running through the pumpkins toward him.
He crouches just in time to catch her, lifting her up effortlessly with a soft laugh that does things to my chest I’m not ready to think about.
“You came!” she says, wrapping her arms around his neck,
“Of course, I came,” he says. “There’s not a chance I’d miss pumpkin picking with my favorite girl.”
Anna leans closer to me, smug as hell, and whispers, “I told you so.”
Maya wastes no time. She tugs Mateo and says, “We’re finding the biggest, most prettiest one. And maybe a white one, too.”
She’s a girl on a mission.
Mateo follows easily, letting her chatter fill the space. He glances back once, catching my eye, and I see a smirk that makes my stomach twist.
Mariana falls in step beside me, arms crossed over her chest. “Our girl’s got taste.”
“She also thinks a good pumpkin is defined by the vibes.”
Seb veers into a row and immediately picks up the first pumpkin he sees. “This one. No notes.”
“It’s shaped like a deflated basketball,” Anna says, wrinkling her nose.
“Exactly. It has character!”
Andres leans over. “I swear you pick the worst pumpkins on purpose.”
“Hey!” Seb says, offended. “The pumpkins I pick tell a story. A story of the journey they had to go on to get to this patch. We want those stories!”
Andres barks out a laugh. “Riiiight. You keep telling yourself that. You’re definitely not just a bad picker.”
Farther down the row, Maya points at a massive pumpkin halfway buried under vines. “That’s it! That’s the one!”
Mateo crouches beside it, inspecting it. “That’s a good one, princesa. You’ve got a good eye.”
“I want it. Can I pleeeease have it, Mateo?”
“Of course,” he says, lifting it easily.
Maya gasps, hands over her mouth. “See! I told you, Mami! He’s so strong! He can lift a car with one arm, I know it!”
Mateo chuckles, adjusting the pumpkin in his arms. “Don’t let Andres here you say that.”
Too late.
“I heard that!” Andres calls out from a few rows over. “And I can totally lift a car!”
I quirk an eyebrow at him.
“If the car is a toy. And plastic. And hollow.” He continues.
Seb barks out a laugh and nearly drops the very sad-looking pumpkin he’s carrying. Really. A truly unfortunate gourd that looks like it tells the story of constant emotional stress. Seriously. What did it have to go through to get here?
“She’s just speaking facts,” Mariana says, giving Maya a high five. “Mateo does have strong arms. Very visually verified.”
I nearly choke on air. Mateo just grins.
Seb blinks at Mariana, hand to his chest. “Excuse me? Visually verified. Wow. Just wow. Should I just go home now, or…?”
Mariana pats his cheek. “You’re strong, too, mi amor. The strongest.”
He narrows his eyes. “That felt like a participation trophy.”
Anna chuckles. “It was. But a sweet one.”
Seb lets out a long, dramatic sigh and gently sets his tragic pumpkin into the wagon. “You hear that, buddy? We’re nothing but a pity pair.”
Maya leans over and gives the pumpkin a gentle pat. “It’s okay. You can sit next to ours.”
Mateo laughs, the sound soft and low beside me. “Our girl is too pure for this group.”
Our girl. He says it so easily. Our girl.
I try to retrace every conversation we’ve ever had since Maya was born.
Has he always called her his girl, our girl?
Maybe. I can’t remember. But for some reason, right now, as he says it, the words settle differently.
I can’t help the butterflies it causes in my stomach.
I glance over at him, and he’s still watching Maya, staring at her in awe. The awe I thought I only could have. As her mom. It tugs something deep in me.
Anna interrupts my thoughts, spinning around. “Alright, my fall queens and emotional support himbos—are we donut bound or what?”
“YES!” Maya yells. “Donuts! And the apple juice!”
“Cider,” I correct automatically, but she’s already grabbing Mateo’s hand and tugging him toward the food stand.
And he lets her, of course. I have a little feeling he’d follow her anywhere she led.
We reach the stand, and the scent of cinnamon sugar and warm apples wraps around us like a cozy blanket. Maya’s eyes go wide at the trays stacked with fresh donuts.
“Pick one,” I tell her. “Just one.”
“One for now,” she says, already reaching.
The rest of the group fans out—Andres goes straight for the hot cider, Mariana’s trying to convince Anna to split a caramel apple, and Seb is interrogating the teenager behind the counter about how many grams of sugar are there in a donut.
Mateo stands beside me, shoulder just barely brushing mine. “You want one?”
I glance at him. “Are you talking about the donuts or the cider?”
“Yes.”
I huff a laugh. “Cider. But only if you’re getting one, too.”
He nods and signals to the vendor. “Two ciders, please. And one of whatever she’s having,” he adds, gesturing to Maya, who is already covered in powdered sugar.
We settle onto one of the benches just off to the side, where the group can still be heard arguing about donut rankings. Powdered over jelly. Bavarian cream over strawberry frosted.
Mateo passes me the warm cup, and for a moment, our fingers brush. I take the cider and sip. It’s too sweet. So, of course, I love it.
I glance over at him and notice that he’s watching me.
“You’ve got something,” he says, gesturing to my face,
I blink. “What?”