I looked down in horror at the virtual mountain of food on my plate.

Blanca went back to her seat at the foot of the table (Eddie was at the head, Jet to one side of him, me on the other side) and she started gabbing happily like she hadn’t just made a huge Food Scene.

When I thought it was safe, I turned to Hector and whispered, “I can’t eat this much food.”

His eyes cut to me and they were dancing. “Relax, mi cielo, I’ll take care of you.”

Then, if you could believe it, he did take care of me. Throughout dinner he alternately ate off his plate and (when Blanca wasn’t looking) my plate until both were empty.

How bizarre was that?

* * * * *

I did okay through dinner though it made me feel weird like I felt when I first moved in with Buddy and Ralphie.

See, these people were friends. In fact, it was clear they’d known each other for years so they were beyond friends. It was hard to describe but since (except for Hector, Eddie and Blanca and, of course, Jet and Nancy) there were no blood ties to bind them and yet they still chose to spend their lives together it was more like a close-knit, happy, relaxed family-of-their-own-devising. They laughed, talked, gossiped, smiled and teased each other with fond affection.

Outside of Ralphie and Buddy’s friends, I’d never been around anything like it and I didn’t know how to act, what to say. I only knew that the Ice Princess was really not welcome here. I couldn’t click her into place to help me cope even if I wanted to.

I also knew that New Sadie was not ready for this experience, not even close.

So I stayed quiet, smiling a little when someone looked at me or there was a joke that I should have laughed at but was too stressed out to relax and be real, like them.

I felt like an outsider looking in, removed, not unwelcome just that, well…

I didn’t belong.

* * * * *

The second incident happened while everyone was chatting and the stragglers were finishing up their meals.

Hector had pushed his chair a bit away from the table and to my shock he pulled my casted wrist onto his thigh. Then the tips of his fingers touched the tips of my fingers that were exposed by the cast.

His touch made me go warm.

I turned to him and he was looking down at our hands.

“When do you get this removed?” he asked quietly.

“Wednesday,” I replied, wanting to pull my hand away if only for sanity’s sake but thinking it might not be a good move at Blanca’s table. I knew one thing, there was no way on earth I was going to survive another scene and I also knew I’d do just about anything to avoid it, including letting Hector touch my hand.

“Good,” he murmured.

I swallowed.

His black eyes came to mine and there was something burning there so strong, I felt my heart start to beat faster.

“She’s pulling away,” he whispered.

“Excuse me?”

He didn’t explain himself, instead he said, “Sadie, you’re safe here. You can be the girl I’ve seen the last few days.”

Oh my.

My body tensed and Ice Princess slid into my skin before I could stop her.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I replied coldly even though I knew exactly what he meant.

He lifted my casted hand to his mouth and (no kidding, right in front of everyone!) kissed the exposed fingers there.

Ice Princess melted in a steaming, hot puddle.

Then he murmured, “You know what I mean.”

Darn.

My eyes flitted to the table. Indy was watching me and when my eyes hit hers, hers slid quickly away but I could still see her smile. I saw Tex was also watching me but he didn’t look away. He was grinning at me broadly so it was my eyes that slid away. Unfortunately, they caught Blanca’s and hers were shining with tears (again!).

Blooming heck.

I looked back at Hector. “Please let me go,” I whispered.

He let me go and I took in a relieved breath but it stuck in my throat when his hand went to the seat of my chair. He gave a firm tug which pulled my chair right next to his chair so our thighs were pressed together. Then he sat back and draped his arm around the back of my chair.

There was no way I could scoot away or put him in deep freeze (which would have been my premier choice) so I just sat there, tense, while everyone tried to pretend they weren’t grinning at each other because of Hector and me.

So I tried to pretend they weren’t trying to pretend and told myself I could get through the night.

How much worse could it get?

* * * * *

The next incident happened when Blanca started to clear the table.

Jet and Indy got up to help her.

I threw my chair back and took that golden opportunity to get away from Hector. I decided I should help clear the table too. Even though I’d always lived in a house with help who cooked for us and cleared our table, I had helped Ralphie and Buddy at their house.

I could do this.

Problem was, I had a cast on my arm. Not so easy to stack plates and carry platters still heavy with food even though everyone had finished eating (one thing was certain sure, Blanca was generous with her hospitality).

Still, it was either help or sit close to Hector’s side, everyone thinking we were something we were not or, we were not going to be after Hector and I had our talk.

I decided plates were my best bet so, balancing some plates and cutlery precariously, I followed Jet and Indy to the kitchen.

Disaster nearly struck when I hit Blanca’s kitchen, the plates teetered and some forks and knives fell to the floor.

Before it could get worse and I had to buy Blanca a new set of stoneware, Indy turned from depositing her load on the counter and deftly grabbed the plates in my hands as Blanca bent down and picked up the cutlery.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Chavez,” I said to her, feeling like an idiot.

She straightened and ordered, “Blanca, mi hija, you call me Blanca.” Then she put the cutlery in the sink and swept out.

But Jet was at the sink, rinsing dishes and for some bizarre reason she was giggling.

I didn’t want to know but I did want to know and not having the willpower to stop myself I asked, “What’s funny?”

She threw me a dazzling smile (Jet was Eddie’s fiancée, she was blonde, green-eyed and very pretty but when she smiled, she was a heart-stopper).

“Do you speak Spanish?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“Mi hija means, ‘my daughter’.”

Oh my.

Blanca just called me her daughter. Her daughter.

That could not be good.

I moved closer to Jet. “Seriously?”