Page 26 of Curious Hearts (The Healing Hearts #2)
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The Vargas family home glowed warm against the evening sky, every window lit from within, the front porch adorned with potted geraniums and strings of small, colored fairy lights.
Ali parked behind Fenna’s SUV, suddenly aware of how Jessica was studying the suburban neighborhood with rapt attention.
“It’s exactly as I imagined,” Jessica said, taking in the modest but well-maintained house.
“What do you mean?”
“Warm. Inviting. No pretense.” Jessica smoothed her dress. “Nothing like the houses I grew up visiting.”
Before Ali could respond, the front door flew open and Yaya appeared, her small frame silhouetted against the golden light spilling from inside.
“You are late!” she called out, her accent thickening with mock outrage. “The food, it gets cold!”
Ali grinned at Jessica. “Right on time, according to Yaya’s clock. She’d be worried if we were punctual.”
They climbed the porch steps, Waffle trotting beside them. Yaya’s eyes narrowed as she assessed Jessica, taking in everything from her dress to her posture in one comprehensive sweep.
“So,” Yaya said, crossing her arms. “This is her. The woman who makes my Ali forget to call her Yaya for six days.”
Jessica extended her hand. “I’m Jessica Taylor. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
Yaya ignored the hand and instead cupped Jessica’s face between her palms, studying her closely. “You have good eyes. Honest eyes.” She nodded once, decisively. “Come inside. You need to eat. You are too skinny. Both of you.”
Ali caught Jessica’s momentary bewilderment before she recovered, accepting the abrupt physical assessment with remarkable grace. As they entered, Ali handed over the sunflowers.
“For your table, Yaya.”
The older woman accepted them with a pleased smile. “Ah, my Ali. She always remembers. And so bright and cheerful, like this one’s face.” She glanced at Jessica, then nodded towards Ali, who felt the heat explode from her cheeks.
The house was a riot of color and sound. Music played from the kitchen, the house filled with noise and chatter. The aroma of simmering spices and fresh bread enveloped them.
“Ali!” Kristi appeared, a twin balanced on each hip. “You’re here! Here, take Usha for me. My hips are going numb.”
Without waiting for a response, she transferred a grizzly twin to Ali, who accepted the bundle as if it were her own child.
“Jessica, this hurricane is Kristi,” Ali said, bouncing Usha gently. “Kristi, this is Jessica.”
“The famous Jessica,” Kristi said, adjusting Flor’s position on her hip as she gave Jessica a wide-toothed smile. “We’ve heard so much about you.”
“All good, I hope,” Jessica replied, unable to hide her surprise when Kristi leaned in to give her a hug, squishing Flor between them for a brief second.
“Mostly.” Kristi grinned as she pulled back. “I hear you’re adopting not just cats but magpies too...” she said, raising her eyebrows.
Jessica laughed, the sound relaxed, despite the slight tension Ali could see in her shoulders. “One of my finer moments, I assure you.”
Fenna emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “I thought I heard voices. You must be Jessica.” She extended her hand. “Fenna. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Likewise,” Jessica said, shaking her hand. “Ali speaks very highly of you.”
“Ali is obviously a good judge of character.” She glanced at Ali and winked, before turning her attention back to Jessica, her expression more serious, though just as open.
“I believe I know your father, Dr. Taylor. He’s made quite an impact since he has taken over as Head of Neurology.
We’ve worked together a few times.” Fenna’s tone was casual, but Ali had heard her complain about the man on more than one occasion, predominantly about the size of his ego.
Jessica’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Yes. He likes his presence to be known.”
“He is brilliant,” Fenna said. “Intimidating as hell in the OR, but brilliant. He mentioned once having a daughter in finance, but I never made the connection until Ali started talking about you.”
“Small world,” Jessica replied, something unreadable flickering across her face. “He doesn’t usually discuss family at work.”
“It was during a particularly long surgery,” Fenna explained. “Hour six tends to break down even the most reserved surgeons.”
Fenna gestured toward the living room where the twins’ playpen was set up. “Let’s put the girls down so they can terrorize their toys instead of us for a few minutes.”
As they settled the babies, Yaya disappeared into the kitchen, reappearing moments later with glasses of wine which she distributed before taking Jessica’s arm and guiding her to the sofa.
“So,” Yaya began, settling beside Jessica with the air of someone preparing for a long-anticipated conversation. “You work with money. You make it grow, yes?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Jessica replied. “I help clients invest in sustainable enterprises.”
“Sustainable,” Yaya repeated, testing the word. “This means it is good for the earth?”
“Exactly. Companies that balance profit with environmental and social responsibility.”
Yaya nodded approvingly. “This is good. Money should work for the future, not just the present. For Flor and Usha and their babies.” She leaned closer. “Now, tell me about your parents. Your father is a doctor like my Fenna?”
Ali caught Fenna’s amused glance as the interrogation began in earnest. Kristi sidled up beside her.
“She’s holding her own,” Kristi murmured. “Most people crumble within the first five minutes of Yaya’s questioning.”
“Jessica negotiates deals worth so much money it would make your head spin,” Ali replied. “But I’m still impressed.”
They watched as Jessica answered Yaya’s increasingly personal questions with a blend of honesty and diplomacy that seemed to satisfy the older woman. When Yaya asked about her intentions toward “my Ali,” Jessica didn’t flinch.
“I care about her,” Jessica said simply. “More than I’ve cared about anyone in a long time.”
The straightforward answer seemed to please Yaya, who patted Jessica’s hand. “Good. No games. Games are for children, not for love.”
Jessica’s eyes found Ali’s across the room, causing heat to rise to her cheeks, aware that Kristi and Fenna were watching this exchange with undisguised interest.
“Dinner!” Elena called from the kitchen, breaking the moment. “Everyone wash hands and sit!”
The dining table was laden with food—a fusion of traditional dishes and what Elena called her mother’s “American experiments.” Jessica was seated beside Yaya, with Ali across from her, the twins in highchairs at either end of the table.
“I hope you like spicy food,” Fenna said, passing a dish of enchiladas. “My mother believes mild seasoning is a moral failing.”
“I actually prefer significant heat,” Jessica replied. “My mother was raised in Jaipur, though her family originated from Delhi. I grew up eating food that most people would find overwhelming.”
“A woman who can handle heat.” Yaya nodded approvingly. “This is good for life, not just for eating.” She looked at Ali, giving a knowing and approving nod that made everyone laugh.
The meal progressed with the chaotic warmth Ali had come to expect from family dinners.
The men of the family, Fenna’s father and brothers, sat on the deck while the women stayed at the table.
Conversations overlapped, food was passed with enthusiastic recommendations, and the twins provided intermittent entertainment with their attempts to feed themselves.
Ali watched Jessica navigate it all, relaxing into the day, her usual reserve gradually melting away.
“So, Jessica,” Fenna said during a lull, “Ali tells us you’ve inherited seven cats along with a Victorian house. Quite the package deal.”
Jessica smiled, glancing at Ali. “Yes. It was all a little—unexpected. But I’m adjusting, and I admit they are growing on me. Although their idea of what constitutes a gift somewhat differs to mine.”
“They are determined to teach you to hunt,” Ali said with a grin. “It means they have accepted you into the family. They just see you as the weak link.”
“Clearly,” Jessica added with a roll of her eyes. “I’m just grateful they’ve lowered their expectations. Instead of giant rats, they’ve decided to train me on mice now.”
Kristi laughed. “You’re turning into a bona fide animal lover. Ali has that effect on people.”
“And animals,” Fenna added. “You should see her with the children in my ward. There’s this one little boy, Mateo, who wouldn’t speak to anyone after his accident. Three visits with Ali’s team of assistants and dogs, he’s talking again.”
“The foundation’s work sounds incredible,” Jessica said, turning to Ali. “I mean, what you do makes a real difference to people’s lives.”
Ali felt a flush of pleasure at Jessica’s genuine interest. “We’re trying to expand the program—if the grant comes through.
The goal is to bring the therapy animals into more hospitals and elder care facilities.
The pilot results were really encouraging and backs up the data from wider research.
People with dementia showed better cognitive function and significantly less agitation after sessions with the animals.
Sometimes people don’t believe it until they see it happen, but the data’s solid. These animals make a real difference.”
“Speaking of which,” Fenna interjected, “any word on a presentation date? The board was supposed to complete an initial review of applications last week.”
“Mm,” Ali nodded. “I meant to tell you. An email arrived yesterday. We’ve got a slot to present next month. I just need another couple of days and it’ll be ready for you to have a look, if you’ve got time.”
Fenna juggled so many hats in her life, Ali was reticent to ask for too much of her time but having someone, a surgeon, champion the pet therapy initiatives from the inside, made winning over the board much more likely.