Fighting for Dominance

You and Me

God bless this man.

I waited for a moment, contemplating on if denying what he was implying or acting completely oblivious

Who the hell was I kidding? I couldn't lie to him.

"Yes..he is. Very well. Maybe a little too well, actually. He's a good guy.."

"He is a very good young man. Just remember, you're still so young. You need to be using this time to find yourself. I don't want you to not know who you are without him. Understood? Now, the only reason I'm not so worried is because you've got your mothers spirit. And by that, I mean you've got quite the opinion and I know you won't let Javier step all over you." I smiled. I missed him, and it hadn't been long at all that I'd been without him.

"I understand. And I won't. I've missed you, old man."

"Oh, I've missed you too honey. How is L.A sweetheart?"

"Oh it's-shit. Are you tracking my phone?"

"Javier is a fine young man, as I said before. He told me days before you even knew. He has my respect. Make sure he knows that respect can be lost, though."

Well fuck. He could've told me that before I went with my pathetic story.

"I must say, sweetheart, I am a little hurt that he told me and you didn't. That my granddaughter-my only granddaughter lied to me."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I just didn't want you to worry and I knew Grandmother would freak out knowing plans had changed and-"

His thunderous old man laugh rang through the phone, and I couldn't help but smile.

"It's alright. Goodness, keeping your mother in line is the reason I've got all these gray hairs on my head, dear. I'm prepared with you, love. I'm always three steps ahead. Now go on and have fun-not too much fun. I love you."

"I love you too Gramps." He hung up, leaving me thinking about how I didn't deserve such an amazing man like him-better yet how lucky I was to have him raise me. He was definitely who kept me sane.

My stomach growled, so I made my way to the kitchen. Looking through the cupboards, I found a gigantic stack of cookbooks and grabbed one.

It was old and torn, but written in the most beautiful handwriting I'd seen.

Encrusted on the bottom was a name that read Abelie Maraz. She must've been Javier's grandmother.

On the inside of the cover, it read: For my dear grandchild, Javier. I first did not know what I could possibly give to you with my parting, but when I came across this, I knew. This is for you child, for it holds what I spent my life doing, the passion that you hold as well. Don't listen to your father, it is a genetic passing.

She was probably Javier's inspiration to his passion for cooking. I could help but find myself wishing I could have met her.

Skimming through the cursive writing, I found a recipe for some pasta-like dish I'd never heard of and could pronounce. I decided to try it.

I plugged my phone in an aux I found and searched through the cupboards for the states ingredients and, not surprisingly, found them all.

Javier was such a foodie.

The evening passed with me dancing and cooking, and I realized that this was the happiest I'd ever been.