Chapter 46

The short walkfrom Sam’s car to her parent’s modest house was the closest thing to walking a plank Natalia had ever experienced. The cracked pavement shifted underneath her, a watery tomb waiting for her at the end. Sam might be convinced that her parents were fans of hers, but that was only because they didn’t really know her. Once they discovered that Natalia wasn’t good enough for their daughter, they’d change their minds.

“You okay?” Sam’s hand was on her lower back, so warm and sure that Natalia didn’t know what to do with it.

She should have declined the invitation. It was too much. It was stupid and childish to have a pit in her stomach. To want a couple of practical strangers to approve of her. She’d never cared about anything like that before.

“Fine,” she lied, barreling forward like she was facing a charging bull on the other side of the front door.

Instead of knocking and waiting like Natalia expected, Sam pushed it open and called out, “Mami, we’re here!” She smiled at her while holding the door for her. “She refuses to lock the damn thing.”

Before Natalia could react to that, Sam’s parents descended on her. Nilda from the kitchen, and Rafael from the backyard with a tray loaded with roasted pork. An unfair attack and unsporting exploitation of their home field advantage.

“Natalia! It’s so good to see you, mija!” Rafael shifted the tray to one arm, freeing the other to wrap tightly around Natalia while he kissed her cheek and gave her a squeeze. “I have my dancing shoes ready for round two,” he joked.

Unexpectedly grateful for the distraction created by Nilda pulling her into a crushing hug created, Natalia didn’t address the possibility of sober dancing with Sam’s father when it was just the four of them for dinner.

“We’ve been asking Sammy when she was finally going to bring you over for dinner,” Nilda said with a broad smile and glinting eyes. “I wasn’t sure what you like, pero what good Cuban girl doesn’t like a little lechoncito,” she joked.

“Pork does make up three of the five Cuban food groups,” Sam agreed, her arm around Natalia and holding her steady while a rush of nerves made it difficult to speak.

Nilda laughed, a joyous thing that almost made Natalia believe she really was delighted to see her for reasons Natalia didn’t understand. “But I have chicken from yesterday’s soup, I can put together?—”

“No,” Natalia said too loudly. “El lechon looks amazing.”

Sam’s parents wore matching smiles before ushering them deeper into the house. A flurry of hospitality grabbed Natalia by the heart and didn’t let go.

Disoriented, Natalia found herself sitting next to Sam at a cozy wooden dining table. There was enough food to feed a small army, but that didn’t stop Nilda from insisting that Natalia try a little of everything.

While she sat there stunned, Sam’s mother swamped her plate with pork, rice, red beans, fried sweet plantains, and boiled yucca topped with onions and minced garlic flash fried in hot oil. It was the kind of food she hadn’t had in decades. And in her life, she’d never sat at a table overflowing with nearly tangible love.

“I went down to the liquor store this afternoon,” Rafael started while unscrewing the cap on a dark bottle coated with a light layer of dust around the shoulders. “I told Juan to get me the best bottle he had.” He beamed and poured Natalia a splash of wine like he was a Master Sommelier. “What do you think?” he asked, face alight with hope and expectation.

Natalia took a sip of the wine Rafael had poured for her, maintaining an impassive expression as the complex flavors hit her tongue. Though not unpleasant, the vintage was unbalanced and noticeably flawed.

The tannins were overly aggressive, leaving a rough, astringent finish. Clearly, it had not been properly decanted to allow the sediments to settle and the flavors to open up. And the oak flavors dominated, masking the delicate berry notes she should have detected. Most importantly, the wine was slightly oxidized, lending a tired, flat quality. All signs pointed to poor storage conditions.

Natalia prided herself on an educated palate. Her blunt honesty compelled her to give Rafael an accurate assessment. She mentally compiled the constructive feedback she could offer to improve his future wine purchases.

Yet seeing his kind, hopeful eyes awaiting her reaction gave her pause. This dinner already represented a huge leap of faith for her. Critiquing something Rafael was clearly proud of might get the evening off on the wrong foot.

Swallowing her instinct for complete candor, Natalia forced her lips into a smile. For Sam, she could temper her usual directness. “It’s wonderful, thank you. I can tell you picked it out especially for tonight,” she added and hoped she was convincing.

The joy on Rafael’s face made the benign white lie worth it. Natalia took another sip, the wine’s imperfections fading against the warmth of Sam’s childhood home.

Over dinner, Nilda and Rafael regaled her with stories of a young, rebellious Sam; they spoke with so much pride that they were near bursting. Unable to resist, Rafael had pulled out old photo albums commemorating everything Samantha had ever done.

It should have been horrifying and uncomfortable, but Natalia found herself wanting to know. Wanting to hear more stories. Wanting to feel the electric pulse in her chest at the sound of Sam’s laughter while she joined in on the trip down memory lane.

She never could have pictured having moments like these. Yet being folded into the warmth of Sam’s family, she had to admit she didn’t hate the feeling.

Three hours disappeared in a pounding heartbeat. Walking to Sam’s car, Natalia found herself considering the unthinkable. The formerly unthinkable.

“Okay, be honest,” Sam started the moment they pulled away from her parents’ lovely home. “How bad was?—”

“Yes,” Natalia said despite her twisting stomach and sweating palms and pulse racing so hard in her ears she felt every drop of fight or flight.

“You don’t even know what I’m going to?—”

Natalia shook her head, annoyed that Sam couldn’t just read her mind. Wishing she could just know what Natalia wanted without making her say it aloud and sounding so stupid. “I’m too old to be anyone’s girlfriend,” she snapped, too harsh, too nervous. “But I’m not interested in sleeping with anyone else at the moment.”

Sam stopped the car at the stop sign at the end of the street and threw the car in park. “Wait. Are you fucking with me?”

Natalia rolled her eyes. “Don’t make it a big deal?—“

Natalia tensed as Sam cupped her face, bracing herself for the impact of Sam’s lips. But the kiss that followed was soft, unhurried. It spoke the words aloud that Natalia struggled to voice.

When they finally parted, Sam kept her forehead pressed gently against Natalia’s. The intimacy of it squeezing her racing heart. No one had ever handled her so tenderly before.

“I won’t make it a big deal,” Sam promised, her breath warm on Natalia’s skin. “But it is to me. Thank you for taking that leap with me tonight. For trusting me enough to do something uncomfortable.”

Sam brushed back a lock of Natalia’s hair, the caress soft as a whisper. Against her will, Natalia leaned into the contact.

“I meant it when I said we can go at your pace. I’m just happy to be with you, in whatever way you’re comfortable.”

Sam’s lips found hers again in another kiss as light as falling snow. Natalia’s hands came up to grasp Sam’s waist, anchoring herself against the swell of emotion inside her.

When Sam pulled back, her eyes were bright with affection. “No pressure, no labels,” she assured gently. “Just this.”

Natalia’s throat tightened around the words she wished she could say. But Sam seemed to understand anyway, gazing at her like she was something precious.

Stealing glances at each other when the streetlights illuminated the car’s interior, Natalia tried and failed to gather her bearings. To dissect how exactly she’d lost her mind.

When they pulled up to Natalia’s’ door, Sam put the car in park and turned to her with a casual, “So, what are you up to tomorrow morning?”

Natalia tensed, certain Sam intended to invite herself in, to spend the night together now that they were official. Is this what she expected now? Sleepovers? Just because she agreed to date her, because they’d shared a room in the Keys, didn’t mean they were practically moving in together. She wasn’t ready for that, and the bile rising in her throat knew that.

“I want to take you somewhere tomorrow morning. Do you plan on working on a Saturday?” Sam’s eyes were so bright, so eager.

Natalia pretended nonchalance even if she wasn’t sure she was convincing. “Take me where?”

Sam grinned, affection oozing from every pore. “It’s a surprise, obviously.”

“Don’t let this go to your head,” Natalia said by way of acceptance.

Without kissing Sam good night for fear that she wouldn’t be able to let her go, Natalia pushed open the car door. She couldn’t restrain her smile as she sauntered away from the car — Sam’s gaze following her inside, warming her all the way to the door.