Page 64 of Play With Me
“Get who?” Maya asks, already halfway done with her brownie.
I take a bite of my decadent dessert, already knowing who they’re talking about. “Grandma Roe,” Greta replies. “She has no filter and dementia. So, if she repeats herself, pay no mind and just let her do her thing. If she says something rude, I apologize in advance. Please don’t hold it against her.”
“...just your lot in life, isn’t it, Andy? To be surrounded by beautiful women,” Roe’s voice floats down the hall. Anders chuckles as he wheels his grandmother into the kitchen. She’s a frail thing, head full of frizzy gray curls and so tiny her joints are pronounced. She lets out a sharp laugh. “And look how beautiful you are! It’s so nice to meet you, Carmela.”
Maya tries to hold back a laugh as Roe reaches for her. “I’m Maya. Carmela is my mom.”
Confusion flickers through Roe’s mottled blue eyes, head ticking as she turns to me. “And look howbeautiful you are! It’s so nice to meet you, Carmela,” she repeats.
Above her wheelchair, Anders grins at me and shakes his head. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” I take her outstretched hand and give it a slight squeeze. “Thank you both for letting us stay.”
“It’s Andy’s house. We’re just living in it,” Roe says with more clarity than before. “Greta, dish me up a brownie, would you?” She looks at Maya. “Who are you?”
Maya looks at me for help before Roe reaches over and smacks the top of her hand. “I’m just kidding. You should see the look on your face. Andy tells me you’re quite the chess player. Care to play this old woman?”
My daughter’s face brightens up at the mention of her favorite game. She effortlessly slips into easy camaraderie with Roe, joking, “Only if you promise to take it easy on me.”
The rest of the evening flies by. Anders and I help Greta prepare dinner while Roe and Maya play game after game of chess. Half the time, Roe forgets what she’s doing, but Maya is quick to remind her, graciously letting Roe win all the games.
Most of the time, it’s just me and her, so watching her smoothly blend in with Anders’ family makes my heart happy. It makes me wonder if she’d have as easy a time with my family—with Mami and Papi.
Would they accept her? Welcome her with open arms like Greta and Roe?
Mami and Papi don’t even know about Maya. They gave me a choice when I moved in with Mick: come home and cut all communication with him and abide by their rules, or stay in my situation and have no communication with my parents.
I made my choice, knowing that even though Mick wasn’t going to publicly announce Maya as his, he’d never leave us, and she’d always be taken care of—that she’d grow up under my gentle guidance to make her own decisions, instead of the strict rules that were forced upon me.
“Anders spends all his free time at the beach,” Greta is telling Maya when I snap out of my thoughts. “He lives on the water.”
“I want to learn how to surf,” Maya says as she looks at me. “Can we go tomorrow?”
“No, we’re going to Universal. But if your mom says it’s okay, I’ll take you out on the water before we leave.” I blanch at Anders’ comment, and multiple bad thoughts go through my head simultaneously.
Sharks, riptides, getting pulled under a wave and hitting the reef. Are there reefs here? Did I mention sharks?
I settle with, “We’ll see. Now, get to bed. We have an early day tomorrow, mijita.”
Maya says goodnight to everyone and goes to her room after giving Roe a high-five.
“I thought I heard a little bit of an accent in your voice. Where are you from, dear?” Roe asks once we hear Maya’s door shut.
Smiling politely, I tell her, “New Jersey. Born and raised. My great-great-grandparents immigrated from Cuba.”
She barks a laugh and smacks Anders in the arm. “She’s spicy! You need a spicy woman to keep you in line, boy! Don’t let this one get away. You hear me?”
He smiles apologetically at me and jokes, “I have plenty of spicy women in my life to keep me on my toes, Grandma. You and Mom aren’t exactly the sweetest.”
“Hey, now!” Greta exclaims. “You better get to bed too, young man, before I show you just how spicy I can be.”
Anders and I share another look, trying not to laugh. I feel like a teenager who just had dinner with her boyfriend’s parents for the first time. Greta and Roe remind me of my family. Stern when they need to be, but above all else, kind and caring.
After we say goodnight, we linger in the hall outside the room Maya and I are sharing. “See? I told you they’d love you,” Anders whispers against my ear. His hands encircle my waist as my back presses against the wall. The space between us is thick with tension—a crackling cocoon of kinetic energy that follows us as he slowly guides me to his room.
“Anders, we can’t.” I make no move to stop him,but hooking up with his family just two rooms away doesn’t seem respectable.
“You’re so wound up with anxiety. I think you need a stress reliever.” The back of my knees hit his bed, and he locks the door before resuming his mission. “Can you be quiet, Cara?” His lips brush over mine while he holds his weight over me as we inch toward the headboard.
Liquid heat settles between my legs at his heady tone. Somehow, trying to be quiet makes his voice rougher, and the gravelly notes wrap around all the right places, making my nipples harden into stiff peaks and the space between my legs grows slick with desire.