Swan Point. Sherryl Woods

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swell just a little as he realized that was exactly what he was. “Since my dad’s not here, I am.”

      “Then I’ll be sure to talk things over with you when I start working around here,” Gabe promised him, winking at Adelia over his head.

      “I don’t imagine he’ll give you much choice,” she told Gabe. “Tomas wants to be part of your crew, that is, if you can find anything for him to do that isn’t too dangerous.”

      “Mom! I’m not a baby,” her son protested.

      “Of course not,” Gabe was quick to say. “But you are inexperienced, or am I wrong about that? Have you built a house before?”

      Tomas giggled. “No.”

      Gabe nodded solemnly. “Then in that case, you’ll learn on the job.”

      “I can do that,” her son said with enthusiasm. “I’m a quick learner. I get really good grades in school and I hardly have to study at all.” He made a face. “Except spelling. I’m bad at spelling.”

      “We’ve all struggled with that on occasion,” Gabe said.

      Tomas looked surprised. “Even you?”

      “Even me,” Gabe said. “Why don’t you show me these things that are on your mom’s list? This is man’s work, after all.”

      Adelia might have taken offense at that if Tomas hadn’t looked so excited at being included among the men on this particular job.

      Smiling, she said, “I’ll leave you to it, then. Make sure you’re in the dining room for dinner in fifteen minutes,” she told them both. “Abuela doesn’t like dinner getting cold.”

      Tomas nodded at once, then confided to Gabe. “Abuela makes the best food ever!”

      “I’ll bet she does,” Gabe said. “I’m looking forward to it.” He glanced at the list, found the next item—painting the bedrooms—and suggested that Tomas lead the way.

      As they went into the house, she heard her son chattering away, sounding happier than she’d heard him in weeks.

      Left with no other alternative, she went into the kitchen and found all three of her girls dealing with various assignments while her mother watched over them. Natalia was putting rice into a bowl almost as big as she was. Juanita, her tongue caught between her teeth and a frown of concentration on her forehead, was carefully pouring steaming, fragrant black beans into another bowl.

      “Sounds to me as if you just made Tomas’s day,” her mother said, regarding her approvingly. “What do you know about this man? Is he a good role model?”

      “I can’t really say,” Adelia admitted. “But he was very kind to Tomas just now. If he hadn’t been, if he’d shown any hint of impatience, I wouldn’t have left them alone.”

      “And is he equally kind to you?” her mother asked quietly, the question spoken low enough that she wouldn’t be heard over the girls’ squabbling.

      “He doesn’t need to be kind to me. He just needs to get the work done,” Adelia replied.

      “I spoke to your brother just now and mentioned that Gabe was here.”

      “Thanks for that,” Adelia said dryly. She should probably expect a visit or call from her protective brother no later than tomorrow.

      Her mother ignored the hint of sarcasm in her voice and told her, “Elliott still seems to think there might be more to his interest than any work he might do around here.”

      “My brother has stars in his eyes these days,” Adelia said in a tone that made light of Elliott’s opinion. “Karen has made him very happy with their life as a family.”

      “One thing has nothing to do with the other,” her mother insisted. “He’s concerned for your happiness. We all are.”

      “I’m happier than I have been in years,” Adelia said. Even as the words tumbled out just to divert unwanted attention, she realized they were actually true. Her life might not be perfect, but it was a whole lot better than the lie she’d been forced to live with Ernesto. Better yet, her happiness was within herself and not tied to any man.

      * * *

      Gabe couldn’t ever recall having a meal that came with quite as much commotion as the one he was sharing with Adelia and her family. The good news was that it was impossible for them to share a single private word. That was the bad news, as well.

      Still, he liked seeing her up close like this with her family. Her daughters, well, the younger two, anyway, had plenty to say, talking over each other in an attempt to get not only their mother’s attention, but his. To do that, though, they had to compete with Tomas, who’d managed to sit beside Gabe and asked more questions than Alex Trebek in a year’s worth of Jeopardy episodes. Gabe noted that Adelia seemed amused and showed not the slightest inclination to rescue him.

      Mrs. Cruz, however, did chime in from time to time to remind her grandson to give Mr. Franklin time to breathe.

      Tomas regarded her blankly. “He is breathing,” he said, looking puzzled. “Wouldn’t he die if he wasn’t?”

      Adelia laughed, and the light sound echoed in the room in a way that drew the attention of even Selena, who looked as if she hadn’t heard that laugh in a while. The teen stared at her mother with evident surprise, then turned a scowl on Gabe, as if she didn’t like him being even indirectly responsible for her mom’s brighter mood.

      Selena started to push back from the table, but at a pointed glance from her grandmother, she hesitated. “May I be excused?” she asked.

      Adelia frowned at the request. “You haven’t finished your meal.”

      “I’m not hungry. Please.”

      “Let her go,” Mrs. Cruz said.

      After Selena had run upstairs, Adelia turned to her mother. “Any idea what that was about?”

      Mrs. Cruz looked in his direction. “I have some idea.”

      As her implication registered, shock settled on Adelia’s face. “But there’s nothing...” She regarded him with dismay. “Gabe, I’m sorry.”

      “Maybe I should go,” he said, not wanting to be the cause of dissension between Adelia and her daughter, even inadvertently. Maybe it was time for him to go, anyway. He’d been enjoying the whole meal—and the company—a little too much. It would be easy to get comfortable here, a little too alluring to experience how real families interacted. With his cousin’s recent warning still echoing in his head, he knew what a bad idea that would be.

      “Not before you’ve had dessert,” Mrs. Cruz said adamantly.

      “Abuela made flan,” Natalia said excitedly. “She hardly ever makes it anymore. It’s the best. And she let us help.”

      Gabe could see how proud she was of herself. “Do you think it’ll be as good as if she made it herself?” he teased.

      “It’ll

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