I eyed him as I snickered. “I don’t know. I’ve told her my last name before, but she keeps calling me Miss Cruz or Miss Lopez. I just let her run with it.”

He sighed and shook his head, sliding those hazel eyes toward the table. “She doesn’t forget anything. Don’t let her fool you. I’ll talk to her about it.”

Was it my imagination or were things already less awkward and more comfortable between us? I didn’t think I was imagining it. Then again, nothing could bring people together quite like seeing a person bawling their eyes out and sharing stories about people who had been loved and lost.

He’d already more than proved to me multiple times he was a good man. A really good man.

“It’s not a big deal. It’s fine. I know what my last name is.” I glanced at him just as we stopped in front of the grill. “I’m glad you came. Louie will be happy to see you.”

Freshly showered and wearing clothing that wasn’t wrinkled or stained for once, it brightened up everything about him. He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, and I could see the hint of a smile on his pale pink mouth. Dallas squinted a little as he asked, “Did he write my name on the invitation?”

I couldn’t hold it. I burst out laughing. “Yes.”

I could see the corners of his mouth twitch up a little more. “It said Dal-ass on it. That’s how he wrote it. D-a-l-a-s-s. Dalass.”

Just thinking about Louie’s bad handwriting spelling out his name again made my eyes tear up. I’d let myself lose it once he and Josh had made it across the street. He wasn’t picking up on the spelling thing very well, but he was trying. Who was I to knock down his best effort? Especially when it amused me to no end. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was wrong.” I gasped. “So wrong.”

“Sure,” he said, his mouth quirking up that much more until it was 75 percent of a grin. “It made me laugh. Don’t worry about it.”

I grinned at him and gestured toward the food. “You okay with Mexican food?”

“I don’t know anyone who isn’t okay with Mexican food.”

That distracted me. I raised both my eyebrows at him, impressed. “Tío. ¿Me das una pierna de pollo, porfa?” I asked my uncle who had taken over the grill, before turning back to the biggest man at the party standing right next to me. “What do you want to eat?”

“Fajitas,” he said in his unforgiving, inflexible English that I barely managed not to smile at.

“Y un pedazo grande de fajita, por favor,” I translated, even though my uncle spoke and understood English pretty well. He wasn’t much of a talker and handed over one plate after another with the meat I’d requested.

“You all right?” Dallas asked as I led him over to the table with the sides.

“Yeah.” I glanced at the hand he had loose at his side. “I never asked, how’s your boo-boo?”

I’d swear on my life he laughed a little, even flexing his hand, too. “Fine. No gangrene, no nothing.”

That made me snort and look up at his face. His facial hair had grown in again lately, and I couldn’t say it didn’t look nice. “You’re welcome.”

Dallas’s smile was this grudging thing that only made mine grow. The more he fought being friendly with me, the more aggressive it made me. The more I wanted it. I’d never been good with people telling me I couldn’t have something.

“I invited Trip, but he said he already had plans, so you’re on your own today.” I’d also invited Ginny, but besides her having to work, I noticed that she and Dallas weren’t close for whatever reason. He probably wouldn’t care that his older cousin wasn’t going to show up, why bother mentioning it?

Trip’s name had barely come out of my mouth when the expression on his face fell just a little, just a little, but he nodded. “He left for Houston.”

He’d explained that to me. I gestured to the trays of food set up on the table. “Grab whatever you want from here. Like I told Miss Pearl, none of it’s spicy, except the salsa and hot sauce over there on the end.”

Dallas’s eyes lingered on me for a moment before he reached over to scoop rice, beans, and even the small bowl of squash my mom had insisted on putting out, onto his plate. Coming up next to him, I did the same for Miss Pearl’s plate, unsure of what she’d want. His elbow brushed mine as he said, “I got Josh a gift card.”

Peeking at him quickly, I lowered my gaze back at the food below me. “Thanks. You didn’t have to, but I know he’ll love it. He thinks he’s getting too old for toys.” I passed him over a wad of napkins, his light-colored eyes meeting mine dead on. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you, too. Not just Lou.”

“Sure. I don’t have anything to do till later. I’ll give Josh his thing when I see him,” he said, continuing on as I led him back to the table where we’d left Miss Pearl, only to find my mom and Sal sitting alongside her.

“Diana, you never told me who your cousin was.” Miss Pearl gaped as I set the plate in front of her.

“Sal?” I asked, taking the seat on the other side of my mom and leaning forward to be able to hear the woman. I’d spoken to Miss Pearl a handful of times, if that, since I had moved in, so I wasn’t surprised there was something she didn’t know about me.

“Yes.” The old woman had those milky blue eyes on said cousin. “She just won the Altus Cup,” she practically whispered. “Dallas, she won the Altus Cup. Can you believe that?”

I learned something right then: I still stereotyped other people even though I knew better, because the last person I would have expected to know anything about soccer would have been Miss Pearl. And to keep digging the dagger of shame in, the older woman kept going.

“She scored five goals!” she said to no one in particular.

I didn’t even remember she’d scored that many goals in the tournament.

My cousin, who was sitting next to Miss Pearl, caught my gaze and grinned, obviously as surprised as I was by her unexpected fan. Here I’d been trying to save her from the people around our age and the one person who knew who she was was somewhere in the ninety range.

“Sal is the star in the family.” I shouldn’t have been surprised those words came out of my mom’s mouth as she sat up a little straighter in her chair, reaching out to touch Miss Pearl’s forearm. “We’re all so proud of her.”

I winked at my cousin, letting my mom’s words go in one ear and out the other. “Yeah, Sal, we all yell for you every time we watch a game.”

“Diana never liked playing sports. She didn’t like getting dirty, but Salomé always knew she wanted to play. Didn’t you, mija?”

“Diana plays outside with the boys all the time. She doesn’t mind getting dirty.”

I stopped breathing for a moment and stared at the man who had just spoken up. Dallas was standing behind his grandmother, looking as calm as ever with his arms crossed over his chest.

If Sal shot me a look, I wasn’t sure because I was too busy staring at my neighbor, but she quickly answered, “I did, Tia Rosario.” Before my mom could make another barb, she leaned toward the older woman, catching her eye. “Thank you for watching. We need more fans.”