Dial-Up Hearts
/“I got it,” Emma yelled from downstairs.
“And?” Mateo said, unable to hide his grin.
“And hang up the phone, nerd,” she bellowed, loud enough for their mom, Ingrid, to hear. “Mom!”
Mateo handed Ingrid the phone so she could hang up.
“Mateo, seriously." She sighed, as if this conversation happened daily. “Stop teasing your sister. You're both in high school, for goodness’ sake.”
"Don't remind me," he said, crossing his arms.
As Ingrid stirred the meaty sauce in a frying pan, she brought the wooden spoon to her lips, blew on it, and tasted the sauce. She raised her eyebrows and nodded.
“Is it good?” Mateo asked.
“Better than good,” she said, stirring again. “Spaghetti is for lovers."
“Thanks for sharing, Mom.” Mateo arched a brow and started to leave.
“You like her, don’t you?” Ingrid said.
Mateo twisted around. “I’m sorry?”
“Emma’s friend, Chloe—you like her, don’t you?”
She put the lid on the sauce.
“Where is this coming from?” Mateo said, glancing away and rubbing his neck.
“You only live once, you know?”
“You wouldn’t understand.” He twisted his ring that wasn't there.
Ingrid brought her hand to her chest and met his gaze. “Me, not understand?”
“Okay, Mom,” he said. “I’ve liked Chloe ever since I can remember.”
“What do you like about her?” Ingrid asked, opening the oven to check the garlic bread.
“It’s…” Mateo sighed. “Her olive skin and almond-shaped brown eyes caught my attention, but her dirty sense of humor captured me by surprise. How could a woman so beautiful be so down to earth?” Tenderness glowed in his eyes.
“You know, your father said the same thing about me,” Ingrid said, a broad smile stretching across her face.
“He was right, and so am I.”
After the sauce had simmered and the kitchen filled with the smell of garlic bread, Emma came up the stairs.
“What’s so funny, dear?” Ingrid asked her.
“You forgot to hang up the phone,” she replied.
“I did that on purpose.” Ingrid grinned.
“Did you both listen in?” Mateo wished his embarrassment would swallow him whole.
“Every last bit of it,” Emma teased.
“Why would you do that, Mom?”
Ingrid gave him a look.
“That obvious?” He blushed.
“Yes, to everyone but you, love,” Ingrid said, hugging him.
“By the way, Chloe likes you too.” Emma shoved her finger down her throat to imitate a gagging motion. “And she’s on her way.”
“What?” The blood drained from his face.
“For spaghetti,” Ingrid said.
Mateo rolled his eyes. “Because it’s for lovers.”
She flashed a thumbs-up. “Women love fast learners,” Ingrid said, patting his shoulder.
Before Mateo could respond, the doorbell rang. He glanced at his reflection in the hallway mirror, wiped his palms on his jeans, drew a deep breath, and did his best to look casual.
Chloe arrived, greeted by the warm aroma of garlic bread and a table set with crystal, aglow with the promise of love. With Emma and Ingrid off on some “last-minute shopping,” Mateo and Chloe were left to stew in anticipation—at last, a first date well worth the wait.
"Mom said spaghetti is for lovers," she teased.
Mateo nodded. "Or so I've heard."
"So let's love."
They took a seat—a hazelnut candle flickered in the center of the table.
"Just eat," he said, grinning.
"Eat me first," she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Excuse me?" His eyes widened.
"You heard me," she said, biting her lip.
He narrowed one eye. "What the hell." He shrugged.
"The spaghetti can wait."
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "That's more like it."
They had their fill, until his heart caught fire—
without a home, but never alone.
By Andy Cooper
From: United States
Website: https://writeovercoffee.blog/
X: AC0040