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dutch oven lid to the counter with a loud clang. He gave the Picadillo a good stir and replaced the lid.

He was a nervous wreck.

He glanced across the kitchen where Julieta was setting the table for seven. She wore an amused expression that he knew she was trying to hide.

“Te estas riendo de me, mamá?”

“No, mijo, I’m not laughing at you. But it is fun to see you this way.”

“What way?”

“Nervous. Anxious. Excited. Maybe a little scared.”

“Oh, you like that I’m scared! My fear amuses you?”

Now she did laugh out loud, and Pete smiled at the sound. He wanted this night to go well, but he also wanted his mother to be at ease and happy. He wanted her to love Jada and Charlie as much as he did. And he really wanted Mateo to love them too.

Mateo.

Where was that kid?

“Mamá, have you seen Mateo? He still hasn’t come down yet.”

“He was getting dressed. I think he’s just as anxious about tonight as you are.”

“Really? Why?”

Pete lifted the lids on two other pots, checking that everything was ready.

“Why do you think? He wants to please you, Pedro.”

Pete shook his head and looked at her.

“You know, sometimes I feel like you and I are talking about two very different people when it comes to that kid. You make it sound like he wants nothing more than to be with me, but…”

“And you make him sound like he’s the enemy that you must conquer and tame.”

Her words rendered him speechless, like he’d been punched in the gut.

That wasn’t how he felt about Mateo.

“Is that how I make him feel, mamá? Because that’s not how I feel about him. I love that kid. I don’t want him to feel like he doesn’t matter to me.”

“So tell him that sometime. Mijo, you have to remember that Mateo has had nothing but disappointment in his young life. He’s never known his father. His mother loved her drugs more than she loved him, and now she’s in prison. Mateo will be a grown man by the time Paulina is up for parole. He knows that I won’t be around forever. You are all he has in this world.”

“I hate it when you talk like that. You are going to be here for a long, long time, mamá.”

“From your lips, to God’s ears. But don’t change the subject. Mateo just needs to know that you will always be there for him. That there is one person in his life who won’t leave him.”

The sliver of an idea ran through his system like a river. A notion he’d thought about more than once lately. But now was not the time to discuss it. Not when they were expecting company at any minute.

“I’m starving.” Mateo said as he entered the kitchen and headed for the stove. He lifted the tin foil on a batch of tostones. The crispy fried plantain slices were the kid’s favorite.

“You touch one of those tostones and you’re in big trouble.” Pete pointed at him.

“But Uncle Pete…”

“Not one! We will wait for our guests. You are not going to starve to death in the next ten minutes. Out of the kitchen.”

He pointed again, this time to the door.

“But…”

“Out!”

Mateo stomped out of the room, and Pete did one last check on his waiting meal. He’d made a big batch of easy and delicious Picadillo — a ground beef dish made with bell peppers, tomato sauce, and the finest Puerto Rican spices — to be served with rice, black beans and the tostones. There was even a pineapple rum cake for dessert, but Julieta had made that.

Pete was looking over his handiwork one last time when the doorbell sounded. He nearly jumped out of his skin.

He rushed to the door and swung it open. For one single perfect moment, all of his anxiety melted away when Jada smiled at him.

He took her hand and kissed her cheek as he ushered her inside.

“I’m sorry, we’re late.”

“No, you’re not. You’re right on time.”

He smiled and looked her over. She was wearing a burgundy-colored dress that matched the shade of her lipstick and gave her a modest, chaste look. The kind of dress one might wear to impress the mother of the man you were dating.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey, Pete.”

“Hey, Charlie, how’s it going? Up top.”

He raised his hand, and Charlie reached up and high-fived him.

“It’s going okay.”

The kid glanced around the entryway where Julieta stood nearby. Pete noticed Mateo hung further back, quietly watching everything.

“Jada, Charlie… this is my mother, Julieta Vega. Mamá, this is Jada Lopez and her son Charlie.”

“Hello, Señora Vega. It’s so nice to finally meet you. Pete says the sweetest things about you all the time.”

Jada shook Julieta’s hand.

“Well. My Pedro is a sweet boy.”

Julieta glanced at him, and Pete’s cheeks turned warm. He was only grateful that Ike wasn’t there yet to witness his embarrassment.

“Y esto debe ser...?”

And this must be?

Julieta let her question dangle and stared at Charlie, and Pete knew his mother was testing to see if the child knew any Spanish. Not embracing one’s culture was a deep-seated pet peeve of Julieta’s. She had always insisted on speaking their mother tongue in the house when he and Paulina were growing up.

“Yo soy Carlos. Pero prefiero Charlie.”

I am Carlos. But I prefer Charlie.

Julieta smiled broadly, and Pete knew Charlie’s perfect Spanish had just helped Jada clear a major hurdle where his mother was concerned.

“Welcome Charlie. It’s good to meet you.” Julieta gestured to where Mateo was hovering near the living room. “This is my grandson, Mateo. He’s just a couple of years older than you, but I think you’ll be great friends.”

She motioned for Mateo to come closer.

Mateo stepped over to them and gave Charlie a half-hearted wave.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Uh, you two have something in common.” Pete pointed to each of the boys, and in the back of his mind he couldn’t help but notice that his stomach felt so loaded down with bricks. He understood it. In his heart, he knew that this first

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