Page 75 of Love Arranged

By the time Willow, Lorenzo, and I finish discussing the Operation Fake Fiancée plan, it is already half past nine, so I head home with more hope than I had left with.

The house is dark when I unlock the front door, so I’m startled when I don’t notice my mom sitting in the living room until she says, “You were out late.”

“¡Dios!”I press a hand against my racing heart.“Mami, me asustaste?*.”

She shuts off the TV and stands. “Where were you?”

“With Lorenzo.”

“Is he the reason why you skipped lunch?”

“No, everyone else is.”

Her eyes are downcast. “We’re…worried about you.”

“I’m fine. Better than fine, actually.” Technically thatistrue. My personal life might be a mess right now, but I can rest easier tonight knowing Lorenzo and I have a solid plan in place and a common goal to reach.

“We missed you.” She hits me with a wobbly smile. “You weren’t there to overcook the pasta.”

There’s a small pinch in my chest. “I’m sure that was a nice change for once.”

She laughs to herself. “Actually, I’ve come to enjoy myespagueti verdethat way.”

I can’t stop myself from laughing. “I can only hope Lorenzo will pretend to feel the same way when he tries it next week.”

She makes a face, and I instantly know I made the wrong assumption.

My amusement dies. “What?”

Her eyes fall to her plasticchancletas. “I don’t know if him coming is a good idea yet.”

Whatever hope I had earlier withers away. “Oh…I see.”

She holds up her hands, panic written clear across her face. “I want to meet him—officially, that is—as your…as your…” She stumbles to finish her thought.

I help her out by saying, “Boyfriend.”

She wrings her hands in front of her robe. “Right. But I think we should do so in a smaller setting. Maybe us three first, if that’s okay with you?”

I’m kicking myself for not thinking about that idea first. When she said she didn’t want Lorenzo to come to next week’slunch, I assumed the worst, not taking into account my mom’s anxiety.

Julian made her believe he’s some kind of mafioso, I reprimand myself.Of course she’s anxious about you dating him.

“You want to get to know him?”

“You’ve never insisted on bringing a…boyfriend to Sunday lunch before, so yes, I’d like to get to know him in a more casual setting.”

“I thought…” My voice wavers.

With Dahlia still not talking to me and the Kids’ Table group chat going radio silent, I believed my mom harbored the same negative feelings toward Lorenzo and me, but I should’ve known hers were caused by anxiety rather than anger.

“You thought what?” she asks with that soft voice that always got me to admit to everything when I was younger.

“That you were mad at me.”

She shakes her head. “I am. It’s hard not to be after you kept this secret from me. Between that and the shop, I feel like I’m failing you if you can’t trust me with something so important.”

My vision is obscured from unshed tears.