“I’d still like to hear it.”
He shrugged. “Because you told me how you were feeling, even though you suspected it might hurt my feelings. And you told the truth. And you did both those things from a place of vulnerability and concern, because you want them to like me. Because you care about me. That’s flattering.”
She smiled, half from surprise and half because he was right. “I think I’m going to give up trying to predict anything about you ever again.”
“Okay,” he said. He twisted the key and the engine rumbled to life. Before he slipped it into gear, he turned toward her. “So what do you want to do?”
“Go to lunch? Hope for the best?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
La Cocina de la Familia was located a few blocks off Market Street in an aging strip mall, but the parking spaces in front of the restaurant were full. As they approached the front door, Colin struck her as being as calm as ever, which only put Maria more on edge. He reached for her hand. She clasped his in return, like someone clutching a life preserver on a listing ship.
“I forgot to ask whether you even like Mexican food.”
“I remember that I used to like it a lot.”
“But you don’t eat it anymore? Because it’s not healthy, right?”
“I can always find something to order.”
She squeezed his hand, liking the way it felt in hers. “My mom said she’s going to make us something special. Which means you might not get the chance. That said, I did tell her that you liked healthy food.”
“It’ll be fine,” he said.
“Do you ever worry about anything?”
“I try not to.”
“Well, when we’re done, you’re going to start giving me lessons, all right? Because lately, that feels like the only thing I’m doing.”
He pulled open the door and she led the way inside. Her uncle Tito immediately approached, obviously excited she was here, rambling in Spanish. After greeting her with a kiss, he shook Colin’s hand and reached for the menus before leading them to a booth in the corner. It was the only open table in the place, which meant that her parents must have been saving it.
Once they were seated, her cousin Anna brought glasses of water and a basket of chips and salsa to the table. Maria chatted with her briefly and introduced Colin a second time. When Anna left, Maria leaned across the table.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t come in as much as I should. They’re probably as excited as my parents.”
“How many of your relatives work here?”
“Right now?” She made a quick scan of the place, spotting another uncle at the bar and a couple of aunts waiting on tables. “I’d guess there’s probably six or so. But I’d have to ask my parents to be sure.”
He surveyed the restaurant. “It’s busy in here.”
“It always is. Over the years, we’ve had to expand the restaurant three times. When it first started, there were only eight tables.” As she answered, she saw her parents emerge from the kitchen and she sat up straighter. “Okay, they’re coming. My parents, I mean.”
When her parents reached the table, she kissed her mother, then her father, all the while hoping they wouldn’t make a spectacle. “This is my friend Colin,” she said. “These are my parents, Felix and Carmen.”
“Hi,” Felix and Carmen said, almost in unison, both of them plainly giving him the once-over.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” he said.
“Maria says you’re a student?” Felix said, jumping right in. “And that you work as a bartender?”
“Yes,” Colin responded. “Serena’s actually in a couple of my classes. I work at Crabby Pete’s, down by the beach.” Then, no doubt thinking of Maria’s worries and not wanting to get drawn into a long conversation about his past, he motioned around the restaurant. “This is an incredible business you’ve built. How long has it been around?”