Chapter 8

  A Little Meddling

  The panadería hums with the quiet of a day well spent, the air thick with warm cinnamon and the last traces of flour. My bones ache in that familiar way that tells me I’ve earned my rest. But, of course, the universe has other plans.

  A sharp ping from my phone cuts through the stillness.

  "Now what?" I mutter, wiping my hands on my apron before reaching for my laptop. The screen’s glow spills across the wooden counter as I open my inbox. An E-vite, buried under newsletters I never read. My lips curve into a smile before I even register the name.

  Ken. My dear pen pal. My almost-grandson, if life had taken a different turn.

  "Dear Consuelo, I send this invitation with the warmest of welcomes. I did as you said… And surprisingly, it happened just as you and Mama predicted. I’m not only engaged, but I’m also expecting my first child."

  "Co?o," I whisper, my chest tightening, my heart expanding too fast to hold.

  My fingers hover over the keys, like I could steady the emotions swirling inside me.

  "I know we are worlds apart, but I still want to invite you and your family to the wedding… Also, I’d like your permission to name my child, Alessandra, after your late daughter."

  A breath catches in my throat. My hand presses to my lips, holding in the sob threatening to break free. Alessandra. My sweet girl. Gone too soon, yet still here, carried forward in ways I never expected.

  I blink hard, force myself to keep reading.

  "I know you and Grandmother are two peas in a pod, kindred spirits, so by now, you’re probably fighting back tears. Sorry, not sorry. Here’s an idea—why not find Carlito a wife? That way, you’d have an excuse to bring him to my wedding."

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  I let out a wet laugh. That little devil. He knows me too well.

  Before I can fully absorb the thought, a voice cuts through the quiet.

  "Eso es una buena idea."

  I jolt, nearly knocking over my cafecito. "?Ay, Dios mío! ?Quieren darme un infarto?" My heart slams against my ribs—not from fear, but from the ambush.

  When did I get so easy to sneak up on? Or is it just my family’s gift—popping up precisely when I least expect them?

  I whirl around to find Margarita standing behind me, arms crossed, grinning like a woman with a plan. That look never means anything good for my peace of mind.

  "Abuela," she says, mischief glinting in her eyes. "Why don’t we find Carlos a good woman? He’s too handsome to be alone."

  I groan, rubbing my temples. "Mija, por favor—"

  Before I can finish, Marisol swoops in like a vulture, sliding my laptop right out from under me.

  "?Qué haces, mijita?" I demand, though I already know.

  Marisol’s fingers fly over the keyboard. "Creating Carlos an online dating profile."

  My jaw drops. "You what?"

  "Do you have any pictures of him?" she asks, already too deep in her scheme to be stopped.

  Margarita cackles beside her. "You’ll thank us later."

  Thank them? Dios mío, they’ve lost their minds.

  I sputter, searching for a proper protest, but the energy in the room shifts—playful, electric. Laughter swells, bubbling up from my granddaughters as they conspire to upend Carlos’s life.

  I should stop them. I really should.

  Instead, I watch. Watch as old pictures of my grandson appear on the screen, as Marisol fills out every detail of his life like she’s the one who lived it. My fingers twitch with the urge to snatch the laptop back, but... what’s the harm?

  The thought lingers, sneaks under my ribs, settles deep.

  Carlos has been alone for too long.

  Maybe—just maybe—my meddling nietas have the right idea.

  I sigh, shaking my head. "Dios nos ayude."

  Margarita nudges me. "So… should we put ‘must love pan dulce’ in his profile?"

  I snort. "At least."

  Laughter spills into the warm, cinnamon-scented air, wrapping around me, settling into my bones. This family of mine—chaotic, loving, impossible.

  Maybe this is how things are meant to be. Unexpected. A little out of my control.

  But full of love.

  After all.

  It's only, a little meddling.

  Right?