‘Oh, Mrs. Montoya, I’m so glad you’re home,’ she said as she wiped her hands on her apron.
‘Magda, would you please call me Alana?’ I asked her for what I thought must be the hundredth time since I’d first walked into this house. ‘Mrs. Montoya makes me feel really old.’
She gave a slight grimace but then she nodded. ‘Alana,’ she said with a half-smile.
‘Thank you.’
She cleared her throat. ‘Mr. Montoya will be home for dinner –’
‘Really?’ I interrupted her. He hadn’t been home for dinner in the almost three weeks we’d been married so far.
‘Yes. So, what shall I cook? What is your favorite dish?’
I shrugged. ‘Whatever he likes is fine by me.’
She smiled at me. ‘But he has instructed me to cook your favorite meal. So?’
‘I don’t think he’ll appreciate my tastes,’ I replied with a laugh.
She held out her hands. ‘That may be, but those are my orders.’
I chewed on my bottom lip. I supposed I could pretend that my favorite dish was something exotic and cultured. Or, I could just go with the truth? ‘Okay then. My favorite meal is a bacon cheeseburger and fries.’
Madga blinked at me and I wondered if she had ever made that meal before in her life.
‘I can cook if you’d like though? I like cooking,’ I said with a shrug.
‘No,’ she shook her head. ‘There is no dish that Magda Hernandez cannot cook,’ she said as she patted her chest with pride. ‘You need to go and clean up for dinner. It will be ready at eight.’
‘If you’re sure?’
‘I’m sure. Now go. Out of my kitchen,’ she said, swatting her hand in my direction.
I didn’t know what came over me, but perhaps it was my happiness at finally feeling like I might have something to do in this city. Or perhaps Kristen’s earlier embrace had melted the wall of ice I’d built around myself these past few weeks, but I ran over to Magda instead and gave her a huge hug.
She remained as stiff as a board and I wondered if I had crossed a line. Magda and I had become closer in these past three weeks. She was the only person I really spoke to and I didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.
But just as I was about to pull back, she placed her hand on my back and patted me gently.
‘Dulce niña,’ she said. I didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded nice and when I looked at her face she was smiling.