A Sweet Magnolias Novel

“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 be even better,” Juanita said firmly. “We made it with love.”

Gabe had to hide his desire to chuckle at her repetition of something she’d obviously heard often.

“And do you think I haven’t always made it with love?” Mrs. Cruz inquired with feigned indignation.

“Uh-oh,” Adelia said. “Do you think you might have hurt your grandmother’s feelings?”

Juanita studied her grandmother closely, then shook her head. “No, she’s just teasing,” she declared.

“I think so, too,” Natalia chimed in.

Gabe laughed at their solemn expressions. “Then I think I definitely have to try this flan you’ve made with such love,” he said. He turned to Adelia with what he hoped was a believably quizzical expression, then whispered, “What is flan?”

Mrs. Cruz and Adelia both chuckled at the question. Even the girls giggled.

“Girls, clear the table and let Abuela bring in the flan, so Mr. Franklin can find out for himself why it’s your favorite dessert,” Adelia said. “The best way to learn about flan is to experience it.”

Tomas pulled on Gabe’s sleeve until he leaned down.

“It’s like custard with caramel,” Tomas confided. “You’re gonna love it.”

“I’ll bet you’re right,” Gabe said, glancing across the table at Adelia. “There’s been nothing about this meal so far that I haven’t loved.”

And that just about scared him to death.

* * *

It was late on Monday afternoon before Gabe had time to sit down with Mitch and go over his estimates for the work Adelia wanted done. There’d been one crisis after another all day long on the Main Street job. Add in his cousin’s distraction thanks to some other job he was handling across town and they hadn’t exchanged more than a couple of words all day.

He was sitting at his makeshift desk on the construction site when Mitch wandered in after six.

“You look beat,” Gabe said, frowning. “Why don’t you go on home? This can wait.”

“I need to unwind a little before I head home,” Mitch said. “Going over those figures with you should do the trick.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want your wife on my case for making you late for dinner.”

“It’ll be at least another hour before we eat. Lynn’s gotten in the habit of taking a nap once she closes the bakery and gets home. Being up at the crack of dawn is wearing on her more than she wants to admit.” He managed a weary grin. “She doesn’t think I know about the naps, but I’ve caught her a time or two.”

“She doesn’t know that?”

Mitch shook his head. “I slip right back out the door. She wants to believe it’s her little secret. If I say something, then we’ll wind up fighting over whether the bakery’s too much for her or when she needs to think about hiring some help. It’s her business and her decision. Anything I say is bound to come off as interference.”

Gabe regarded his cousin with surprise. “How’d you learn so much about women? It’s not as if you dated a ton of them. You went from that secret crush you had on Lynn in high school—”

“It can’t have been much of a secret if you knew about it,” Mitch grumbled.

“Please, you started wearing your heart on your sleeve in junior high,” Gabe said. “Then you married Amy. Where did all this profound knowledge of yours come from?”

Mitch laughed. “Observation and self-preservation. Any man intent on staying married has to figure out all the clues to keeping his wife happy. Unfortunately, a whole lot of them are left unsaid. It complicates things.”

Gabe could believe that. He’d failed to understand a whole lot of women over the years. He’d never had the will to work on getting it right with a single one of them. He had a feeling Adelia could be an exception.

Mitch beckoned for Gabe’s notes on Adelia’s renovations. “Looks as if you’ve got everything covered,” he said.

“Except labor,” Gabe pointed out. “I didn’t know if you were figuring on bringing in one of your crews, assigning a single guy for most of it or what?”

“It’ll be cheaper if it’s done by one person,” Mitch said.

“But it’ll take longer,” Gabe replied.

“Has she said anything about being in a hurry?”

“No, but people usually are,” Gabe said.

“Maybe that’s something you should discuss with her before we finalize this,” Mitch said, then gave him an innocent look. “Of course, with the exception of the roof, a lot of this could be handled in your spare time. Not that you wouldn’t get paid,” he added hurriedly. “I’m just saying, it might be a project you wouldn’t mind tackling.”

Gabe knew exactly what Mitch was up to. “Don’t you think I have my hands full keeping up with this Main Street project?”

“Sure you do,” Mitch said at once. “Especially since I’ve seen the way you throw yourself into your work. I’m just saying that this primary job doesn’t have the same perks.”

“Perks?”

“Adelia,” Mitch said, unsuccessfully fighting a smile. “Meals with the family.”

Gabe stared at him incredulously. “How did you know about my staying for dinner the other night?”

“Tomas told Jeremy all about it,” Mitch said, laughing.

“Who knew little boys could spread gossip that fast,” Gabe complained. “I thought that particular trait was reserved for the adults in town.”

“Tomas already has a bad case of hero worship,” Mitch said. “I remember what that was like. Jeremy followed me around more than once when I was working at Raylene’s. Boys their age need role models, Gabe. Even ignoring the way he treated Adelia, I doubt Ernesto Hernandez was much of one.”

Gabe had the same impression. Tomas was a little too hungry for someone to teach him guy stuff.

“I’m not sure I’m cut out for the role,” Gabe said.

“Sure, you are. If you weren’t, Tomas wouldn’t have been telling Jeremy all about you. Obviously you handled the situation just right.”

“Sure, I answered his questions. I taught him a couple of basic things, but that’s not the same as being a role model for an impressionable kid,” Gabe argued. “Heck, even some of the jerks my mom dated were nice to me when they thought they had something to gain from it. That doesn’t mean I should have aspired to be like a single one of them.”

“Definitely not,” Mitch agreed readily. “But you learned from that, Gabe. You’ll try real hard to be a good influence on Tomas.”

“Why do I have the feeling that you think the kid’s going to be as much of an influence on me as I am on him? Do you think I’ll stay on the straight and narrow because of him?”

Mitch frowned at that. “To my way of thinking, you’ve never been that far off the straight and narrow in anyone’s mind but your own, but, yes, I think you’ll be good for each other. I think you need to start to see yourself as more than a rolling stone. You seem to have this crazy idea that you don’t deserve to find real happiness, the kind that can last.”

Gabe couldn’t deny that Mitch had nailed it. He’d never seen himself as a good bet for happily-ever-after. The only examples he’d had—Mitch’s side of the family—had certainly never given him much reason to believe in himself.

“And Adelia? How do you see her fitting in?” he asked his cousin.

Mitch gave him a considering look before saying, “Any way you want her to, I imagine.”

Unfortunately, the way Gabe envisioned her fitting into his life had a little too much to do with toppling into his bed than it did with the straight and narrow.

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