Lola
“Huh…” I pushed my fork down into the stack of pancakes. “I think you’ve been keeping a secret from me.”
“A secret?” Ryan set his plate down next to me. “About.”
He wore a look of confusion as he sat down and grabbed his fork. I placed my hand on his arm. “I’m teasing you.” Then, I pointed to my perfectly stacked, fluffy pancakes. “They look amazing.” I shoved a forkful into my mouth and moaned. While still chewing, “they’re so good.”
“So my grandpa taught me well, eh?” He winked and put a forkful into his mouth.
“Wait.” I turned to face him. “Does that mean he used to make animal-shaped pancakes for you?”
“Is there any other way to make pancakes when you’re a kid?” He laughed and pushed a piece of pancake around in the syrup.
“Fair point.” I sank my fork down into another bite. “Let me guess. He made you Mickey Mouse pancakes.”
“Mickey Mouse, a bear, and what was supposed to be a bunny, but the ears were too short.” Ryan paused with a forkful halfway to his mouth.
“You okay?” I touched his forearm.
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat and nodded. “Definitely.” He sat there, holding the forkful of pancake a little longer. “It’s just that… It’s one of my favorite memories of my childhood.” He shook his head and put the bite into his mouth.
His memory really touched my heartstrings.
I turned to face him and placed my hand on his thigh. “And you shared the memory with me.” He moved his arm, and I climbed onto his lap. “Thank you.”
“If you’re okay with it, I’d like to share more memories with you.” He rested his forehead against mine. “I’m...” He cleared his throat and closed his eyes.
“What?” I placed my hands on either side of his face. “Tell me.”
“I’m all in with you, Lola.” He leaned in and kissed me. “Maybe I’m being too forward, but I’ve never met a woman who has made me this happy.” He paused for a beat. “Or made me feel comfortable enough to share my secrets.”
I leaned my head back on his shoulder and stared up at him for a few minutes. “You still feel that way even after meeting my family?” I traced my finger around his face, over each eyelid, down the bridge of his nose, and over his lips. “It must be really serious if they didn’t make you doubt your decisions.” My finger moved over his chin and continued down until I rested my hand on his chest.
“They didn’t sway my decisions in the slightest.” He tapped his index finger on the tip of my nose. “As a matter of fact, it made me excited to get to know you more.”
I hopped off his lap and made my way over to the fridge. “Now you’re just making things up.” I tried to say it with a straight face, but failed and burst out laughing.
“Nope.” He surprised me by wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. “Whatchya doing?”
“I need something sweet.”
“Oh…”
“No.” I moved a carton of milk.
“What?” He tickled my side.
“I’m not talking about that. I need these.” I grabbed the grapes and pushed against him to move back. “Ryan.” We straighted and I turned to face him. “Save that excitement for the shower. First, we must eat these.”
“Right.” He cleared his throat. “Grapes first; got it.” I grabbed one from the container and popped it into his mouth. We made our way back to the barstools to sit down. “What about you? Did your mom or grandma make animal pancakes for you?”
We sat facing each other, eating grapes. “No, I didn’t eat a lot of pancakes when I was a kid. We made a lot of tortillas, which are perfect for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.” I attempted to throw a grape into Ryan’s mouth, but it missed by several inches. “There was one meal I loved to make with my grandparents: Chilaquiles. When I think about that dish, it brings back so many happy memories.”
“Um, I think I’ve had it, but I’m not sure.” He scowled like he was thinking about the meal.
“My grandma made her famous homemade tortillas, and then fried them up into chips. The homemade tortilla chips, with seasoned beef, and homemade sauce were perfection on a plate.” I smiled at the thought. “You know what? It’s been over a week since I’ve made it.”
“Oh no, does that mean we need to make it tonight?” He popped another grape into his mouth.
“We could, or I have a crazy idea.” I reached for his hand.
“I’m listening.” He glanced down at our hands.
“We can make it with my mom and dad.” I squeezed his hand. “My mom would love to show you how to make Chilaquiles.”
AUTHOR NOTE:
Chilaquiles is one of my favorite dishes to eat. I have made it at home, but it’s not as amazing as when I order it from my favorite restaurant. Have you ever had Chilaquiles? What do you think Ryan will do? Will he choose to make it at with Lola, or will they go to her parents and make it a family affair?