Perfect Proposal (3 page)

Grinning
at the nickname her mother had given him the first time they’d met,
Sam leaned down to engulf the tiny woman in a hug. “I’m good, Mama
Ramos. And nothing would have kept Rosie from her
family.”

“
Ah, what are we doing standing out here on the street? Come
inside. Everyone’s waiting for you. I left Emilio’s newest
girlfriend to slice the plaintains for the
platanutres
.” Mrs. Ramos shook her
head and tsked. “I don’t know about this girl—I hope he’s not
serious about her.”

They’d
scarcely made it through the front door before her family swarmed
around her, each member intent on imparting the latest news in the
Ramos household. Her two-month-old niece, Isabel, found her way
into Rosie’s arms while Isabel’s older brother, Rafael, with his
thumb stuck firmly in his mouth, eyed them suspiciously. Greetings
and the latest updates in the plans for dinner and shopping the
next day whirled around her in a miasma of sound.

By the
time she’d managed to hand Isabel back to her sister-in-law, Rosie
found her eldest brother, Jose, at the near end of the couch, his
son in his lap, occupied by one of their inevitable football
discussions with their younger brother, Emilio. At the far end of
the couch, Sam responded in fluent Spanish to her father’s
discussion of the latest trouble down at his precinct.

“
He fits right in, doesn’t he?” Jose’s wife, Elba,
whispered.

He
did.

“
Stop admiring your men, you two.” Mrs. Ramos poked Rosie in
the shoulder. “Come help me in the kitchen.”

Sam
pulled his attention away from the pregame show when Rosie’s
younger brother handed him a beer.

Emilio
cracked open his beer and sank into a chair opposite, one leg
hooked over the arm. “Hey Sam, are you in a Fantasy Football
league? Because you should consider taking our quarterback for your
team.”

“
Yeah, if you want Sam to lose, he should take your
quarterback.” Jose waved a hand over his son and shifted his
sleeping boy in his arms. “Aw, Jeez Louise, Raph, why couldn’t you
wait to crap your pants until your momma was around?”

“
What the hell have you been feeding that boy?” Holding his
hand over his nose, Emilio leaned as far away from his nephew as he
could. “So, Sam, Giants or Jets?”

Sam
considered arguing for his beloved Redskins before deciding he
needed all the points he could get with the Ramos family.
Especially when he approached her father to ask for permission to
marry Rosie. Sure, most guys didn’t bother with such formalities
these days, and the Ramos’ didn’t seem a particularly old-fashioned
couple, but it never hurt to get on a future in-law’s good side.
Not to mention that if he and Rosie ever had a daughter, he’d
definitely want a say in who she’d marry. When the hell had he
gotten so old-fashioned?

He was
still mulling over the question when Mr. Ramos stood up with a
groan. “I’m going out for a smoke.”

A chance
to get him alone? Sam was all over that opportunity. “I’ll join
you, Carlos.”

Mr.
Ramos’ eyebrows merged. “I thought Rosalinda made you give up
smoking your cigars?”

“
She did.” Rather than taking the chance at being put off, Sam
stood and headed for the door. “I need some fresh air.”

Behind
him, Emilio snorted. “Hey, blame Jose. He’s the one who is too lazy
to get up off his ass and change his kids’ diaper.”

“
He’s sleeping,” Jose argued. “Do you have any idea how hard it
is to get him to sleep? Fricking hard. Which means I’m not about to
wake him up. When you have kids, you’ll put up with a little stink
for a moment’s peace too.”

Okay, so
that was another reason to get out of the room—for a cute kid,
Raphael was definitely ripe. Yet watching the kid asleep on his
father’s chest had sent unfamiliar pangs through Sam’s gut. What
would it be like to have his own son—or daughter—in his arms like
that one day? Was it fair to bring a child into this uncertain
world?

He was
still wondering about fatherhood when Mr. Ramos and he were halfway
down the block. The drizzle that had been falling when they’d
arrived changed to fat flakes, and the wind had picked up, making
Sam grateful that he’d accepted Rosie’s advice to bring his leather
coat.

His
nicotine fix achieved, Mr. Ramos stopped in the middle of the
sidewalk and took another drag on his cigarette. “What’s on your
mind, son?” He lifted his chin and exhaled a plume of smoke,
watching it swirl and dissipate in the chill air. “Don’t pretend
you came out here for the fresh air. You want to talk to me about
something.”

Ah.
Figured he couldn’t pull anything over on Rosie’s dad. He removed
the ring box from his coat pocket and opened it, revealing the
ring. “I want to propose to Rosie later tonight but I thought I
should ask you first.” Fingers crossed she’d say yes this
time.

“
That’s quite the rock.” Mr. Ramos scowled at the end of his
cigarette for a moment. “My daughter doesn’t need our permission to
marry you—we raised her to know her own mind. She’ll do what she
wants.”

“
I thought—”

“
You thought you’d win a few points with her mother and me by
the gesture.” Mr. Ramos lifted his cigarette and took another drag,
holding the smoke in his lungs for a second before exhaling. “The
only question is, does my Rosalinda want to marry you?”

Now
there was the question. He’d asked her before and been turned down
flat. While he’d understood her concerns about how short a time
they’d been together at that stage, and how haunted he’d been about
his previous girlfriend, he’d shut up on the subject, figured time
would prove he was with her for the long haul. Only thing he’d not
figured out was how long he should wait to ask a second time
without spooking her. So he figured he’d wait for her to mention
something first. Drop some hints about making things permanent, but
she hadn’t. At least none that he could discern.

“
You’re hesitating.” Mr. Ramos’ eyebrows stretched into his
hairline. “You aren’t sure if Rosie loves you? Because anyone with
eyes can see she does. Or is there trouble in paradise?”

“
I know she loves me.” Of that, he had no doubt.
“As much as I love her.”

So why had the butterflies that had niggled in his stomach
gained ten pounds?
Because, dumbass,
you’re afraid she’ll say no a second time.

“
I’m glad to hear that.” Another drag, another puff. “But if
she says no, you will not take it out on her. You will not make her
job difficult or make her unhappy. Or I will come visit you.” He
flicked his butt to the curb, and a smile that reminded Sam of Dr.
Seuss’ Grinch crept across Ramos’ face. “Or worse, my wife
will.”

Rosie snitched a cracker from the plate Elba was putting
together and, like her sister-in-law, layered on a slice of
salchichon
, a smear of
guava paste and a slice of the cheese, topping it with an olive.
Unlike Elba who faithfully placed another cracker creation on the
plate, Rosie took a bite of hers. The combination of cheddar and
dried sausage had her moaning in delight.

Mrs. Ramos slid a pan of pork
pasteles
into the oven to stay warm.
“Mrs. Santos is retiring next month and then she’s moving to
Florida, can you believe it? I’ve bought
pasteles
from her for twenty years
and all of a sudden she just up and leaves. Now I have to find
someone new to buy them from.”

“
Why don’t you make your own?” Noelle, Emilio’s flavor of the
month, nibbled at the edge of a piece of the sausage before
discarding it with a scowl.

Rosie ducked her head to hide her smile, although she’d tasted
her mother’s
pasteles
the time her mother and Mrs. Santiago had had words and her
mother had declared she could make them herself. The whole family
had quickly dissuaded her of that notion. Every year since, the
whole family ensured the freezer was filled with Mrs.
Santiago’s
pasteles
so they wouldn’t have to endure any more of their mother’s
attempts.

“
No one I know makes their own.” Elba switched from the
crackers to piling the deep fried plantain chips onto a serving
dish and handed them to Rosie’s mother. “There’s always some lady
in the neighborhood who we buy them from and then we stick them in
the freezer for when we need them.”

“
I hate cooking.” Noelle snagged one of the chips as Mrs. Ramos
walked past. “Hey, these are good. Anyway, when I get married, I’m
going to make sure the guy has enough money that we can eat out
every night. Or if I’m really lucky, we’ll be able to afford to
hire someone to cook for us.”

Rosie
exchanged a glance with Elba, who shook her head with a shrug that
screamed the same “where had Emilio dug this one up?” frustration
Rosie was feeling.

“
I like to cook,” Rosie said, “especially when Sam helps me.”
She could feel the color rise in her face at the memory of her
attempt to make
tembleque
. Sam had come in to help
her but decided she made a tastier dessert than her coconut
pudding. By the time they’d finished, the milk and the rest of the
ingredients she’d set on the stove to heat had long since scalded.
They’d ended up tossing the whole thing, even the saucepan in the
trash. Good thing her mother wasn’t in the room—she would have
questioned Rosie’s blush. There were very few things she couldn’t
discuss with her mother, but her sex life with Sam and all that
entailed was at the top of the list.

Noelle
hitched her hip on the counter. “You’re so lucky to have found a
sugar daddy who’s under the age of fifty. And he’s so freaking
drool-worthy too.”

“
He’s not my sugar daddy.”

This
again? It had bothered her initially that many of Sam’s friends
thought she was with him only for his money. Oh, he was handsome
enough, but people usually found his most attractive feature the
size of his bank account.

The eye
roll Noelle gave her could have been seen by balcony patrons of any
Broadway theater. “Don’t give me that. His watch alone has to have
cost at least five K. And that suit must have set him back a
thousand, easy. Anyone with eyes can tell it’s not off the rack.
Not to mention he brought you here in a limo when the rest of us
have to take the subway or regular cabs. The man’s loaded. You hit
the jackpot with him. You’ll never have to work again if you don’t’
want to. Do you know how many women would jump all over
him?”

She did.
Too many women hit on him, even with her watching. Sam shrugged
them off, but he couldn’t stop the catty comments when they
encountered her privately.

“
Not that it’s any of your business, but I love Sam for who he
is, not what he has. I’d be with him if he was a security guard at
Walmart.”

“
If you say so.” Noelle curled her lip, then straightened and
jumped off the counter when Rosalinda’s mother returned. “It’s not
like he’s asked you to marry him or anything. Which, girlfriend,
should tell you something about the future of your relationship.
How long have you been together now?”

“
For your information, he
has
proposed.” Ay. Why had that confession popped out?
Rosie picked up the plate of crackers, intent on taking them to the
guys.