Page 15 of Olivia’s Only Pretending (Sweet River #3)

Eleven

Lucy

SO how did tonight go?

Me

It actually turned out to be a really good night

definitely in large part due to Victor being there

Lucy

And was Victor a good BF???

Me

*fake* BF

he was the best!

Lucy

Did this make you think about what he’d be like as a boyfriend in real life?

I took out my earrings, rolling my eyes at Lucy’s text.

Victor Hernandez was a magnetic force of a man.

Of course I’d wondered what he’d be like as a boyfriend.

He’d be a great boyfriend, just like he’s a great best friend, but he was not ready to be a serious boyfriend to a woman about to enter her thirties, which was the type of boyfriend I needed.

My heart could not handle any other kind of boyfriend right now.

As I showered and brushed my teeth before bed, a memory from late July kept playing over and over in my mind, like a wave to the shore.

It was a late evening, after eight p.m. Victor was a volunteer at the Church of Sweet River’s VBS at the request of his nieces and nephews, and earlier that day, he’d called me to see if I could pick him up that night after work.

His truck’s starter was having some troubles, so he’d taken it over to Roger’s Auto Shop, and they’d have it for a couple days.

I wandered into the church that night, walking through the same old wooden door that had once felt so heavy to my tiny girl hands. Wandering down the same aisles where I’d dropped petals as a flower girl at weddings.

And there, snoring across an old wooden pew, lay Victor Hernandez. I’d grown up seeing him out of the corner of my eye and in passing at this very church on Sunday mornings, but his circles had never overlapped with my circles. Different grades, different friends, never officially meeting.

Until that day in the coffee shop.

My forehead crinkled as my gaze settled on him. Victor’s dark brown hair was streaked with blue and green paint. His face was drawn all over with colorful face paint. As I studied him closer, I realized it was on his arms and hands in messy, colorful circles. I grabbed his sneaker and shook it.

He popped up, blinking. “Liv?”

“Hey, sleepyhead.”

“Those rugrats can really wear you out.” He rubbed his eyes.

“I’m loving the look.” I bit back a laugh.

“Oh, yeah, I’m covered in paint.” He glanced down at his arms. “VBS has an Under the Sea theme. The pre-K group tried to turn me into a mermaid—or, merman, I guess.”

“Oh.” I looked at the circles on his arms again. “Those are supposed to be scales. I can kind of see it now.”

“Hey, for a preschooler, these scales are pretty darn good.” Victor flexed his biceps. I tried to resist the urge to ogle. He was on a pew, after all.

“How was it? Besides being turned into a merman?” I asked.

A few kids whose parents were talking in the lobby were squealing and racing around. Their sandals slapped against the tiled floor.

“Loud, high energy. So much fun, I required a nap after. I remember coming to VBS as a kid. It’s cool to see it from the other side now.” Victor stood up from the pew, running his fingers through his messy, colorful hair, accidentally spreading the paint.

“My sisters and I used to be the kids painting the volunteers.” I bumped my shoulder into his.

“By the way, my mom is requesting my presence at family dinner, if you don’t mind dropping me off at my parents’ place instead of my place?”

“Sure, that’s no problem,” I said as we headed toward the lobby.

“She also extended the invitation to you, if you want to join. My dad is out back flipping burgers on the grill.”

There was a surge of butterflies in my stomach. I shouldn’t care so much what his family thought of me, but I did. I’d adeptly avoided meeting his parents. His eyes were on me, though, big and hopeful.

“Sure,” I said. “I can stop by for a few minutes, at least.”

T he gravel crunched underneath my tires from the country roads as I drove up to the Hernandez house. Victor’s family grew up on acres of grassy land on the edge of Sweet River. I could imagine a young Victor running barefoot across this property he called his backyard.

I was so nervous, I barely responded to Victor’s excited chatter, telling me how that old tree was where a big tire swing used to hang that he and his brothers broke a couple years ago when they all piled on it one night after a couple of beers.

And that shed over there was where he tried to start a band when he was fifteen that was a complete failure from the first practice.

And if we walked far enough down their property, beyond all those pecan trees, there was a stream that he loved to sit by and think.

I kept nodding along to his chatter as we walked up the steps of the sprawling farmhouse. He turned the doorknob, all excitement and joy, and I swallowed the big, dry lump in my throat.

No, I didn’t want to examine why I cared so gigantically much about what his family thought of me.

“Mom,” he shouted as the door shut behind us.

I resisted the urge to grab hold of his arm, or hand, for comfort, following him across the hardwood floors.

I glanced around, mentally wishing I could pin the open-concept home to my Pinterest boards.

If we walked toward the right, we’d be in the formal dining room done in reds and creams, but if we turned left, which, as I followed behind Victor, we did, we entered the big living room with walls covered in family photos and comfy couches and armchairs.

“Victor, you’re finally back!” his mom, Linda, said. Her jet-black hair was pulled back in a loose clip. Her eyes peeked up at us from behind the kitchen sink. “Is this the famous Olivia?” She didn’t bat an eye at Victor’s face paint.

“Hi.” I hurried ahead, reaching out a hand.

She turned off the faucet and shook my hand. “I’m so glad you’re here. David, Victor’s dad, is out on the patio grilling burgers. But we’ve got chips and freshly made guacamole out there ? —”

“And salsa?” Victor checked.

“Yes, and my salsa. The kids love my salsa. I have to have it out every time we eat.” Linda laughed. She made her way around the long, granite kitchen island. “How’re you doing, dear?”

“I’m pretty good,” I said. “I had a long day. I’m a professor. I’m not sure if Victor has mentioned that? I usually teach summer classes, but I took this summer off. I’ve been filling my days up with home renovations ? —”

“You bought that old fixer-upper downtown, right off Main Street and Perrin Avenue, right? Victor’s shown me so many pictures,” Linda said, leading us toward the sliding doors that opened to the back patio.

“Yes, that’s the one. It’s coming along beautifully, thanks to Victor,” I said.

Victor and I exchanged a smile.

“Victor, man, come grab a beer!” Victor’s younger brother, Ricky, called as we stepped onto the patio. The sky beyond the backyard was flaming pinks and purples as the sun set over the grassy hills. “Oh, Liv is here!”

I’d met Ricky a few times over the summer. He’d tag along with Victor to grab pizza or help us work on installing new cabinets.

“You good if I go talk with Ricky?” Victor checked with me before he ran over to his brother.

“I’m fine.” I chuckled. Victor’s attentiveness still surprised me, and it made Linda smirk.

He turned to leave but then spun on his heels. “You want anything to drink?”

“I’ve got it covered, Victor,” Linda said, shooing him away. “Olivia, we’ve got beer, wine, water, and I made a big pitcher of sweet iced tea.”

“I’ll have a glass of iced tea,” I said.

Linda and I settled on patio chairs around a round table with our iced tea.

The air was warm and humid. She was asking me about my sisters and mom.

“You know, I’ve known your mom for years through church.

Right when you walked in, I had flashbacks to you and your sister running down the aisles between pews back when you were still girls.

I feel like I know you without actually ever meeting you. ”

I shook the ice in my glass. “Same. I’ve grown up hearing about the Hernandez boys and Mom’s friend, Linda, who made the best salsa, without ever officially meeting you—until now.”

Linda laughed. “Small-town life.”

My gaze settled on Victor playing with his squealing kid nephew and nieces. He was chasing them around the patio, growling. They were soaking wet in swimsuits, leaving behind a trail of watery footprints.

“You’re a history professor, Victor says? Is that what you always wanted to be?” Linda asked.

“Mom, don’t grill her!” Ricky walked over, resting his hands on the back of his mom’s chair. “Is she grilling you?”

“I’m just getting to know the girl! Can’t a mom ask a few questions?” Linda shook her head.

“It was sounding like a literal job interview when I walked up.” Ricky raised a dark eyebrow. His skin was the same caramel as his brother’s.

“Mom,” the kids shouted to Victor’s oldest sister through fits of laughter.

The game had taken to the grassy backyard lawn beyond the patio. Victor was getting soaked and didn’t seem to care a bit.

His sister was laughing as she walked over to our small patio table, a glass of white wine in her hand. “Hi, you must be Olivia. I’m the big sister, Tanya, mom to two of the screaming children out there.” She had a baby against her chest. Her hair was in a messy bun on her head.

“I’m the dad to the other two screaming kids out there. I’m Luis.” One of Victor’s older brothers sat down with us.

Tanya was the super mom who worked as a nurse on the weekends and sent Victor silly videos of her kids that we’d watch together on my back deck.

Luis was the big brother working his way up at a law firm a town over.

Victor wrestled between wanting to call him for brotherly advice and trying to prove that he didn’t need it.

These two older siblings I’d heard Victor speak about with such admiration and reverence were now sitting beside me, sweaty and laughing about their kids.

“Is Katie coming?” Tanya asked the group.