Ma’s face turns a bit red. “I ran,” she says, covering her mouth with one hand. “I ran faster than I’ve ever run in my life.” She tries to say something else, but then she starts laughing and her words are impossible to make out.

Sophie and I start laughing with her, and when I turn toward Pa, he’s chuckling as well. The lines around his eyes deepen, but he looks younger somehow. That’s what makes me realize he hasn’t smiled this way in a long time.

When we all stop laughing and go back to eating, a feeling of peace settles around us. Even though we don’t say much for the rest of dinner, the silence that surrounds the table isn’t as heavy as it was last night. We can hear the warm spring air whistling as it sneaks in through an open window in my parents’ bedroom, and the sound of our fridge, and Pa humming softly to himself every time he bites into his flautas de pollo. There’s something else, too—something that we can’t hear as much as feel. Staring at the half smiles that are still on Ma’s and Sophie’s faces, I truly believe that everything is going to be okay.

“Mateo, hurry up! It’s starting!”

Every night at ten, Ma and I sit down on the couch to watch Pasiones de tu Corazón—or The Passions of Your Heart. The title is completely meaningless, of course, but at least it has dramatic effect. It started as a telenovela about a guy who was trapped on a deserted island after a plane crash. Since then, he has gotten rescued, fallen in love, had his heart broken, fallen in love again, had a baby, found out the baby wasn’t his, met his lost twin brother, and discovered that the plane crash was a plot to murder him.

I walk into the living room just as the theme song starts playing and sit down close to Ma. This is our thing. Watching the telenovela with her is one of my favorite parts of each day.

“Wait, who’s that guy?” she asks me.

“He’s Amara’s sister’s ex-lover.”

“Oh, right,” Ma says. “What is he doing?”

“I don’t know, Ma.”

The telenovela is always accompanied by extensive commentary and questions from my mom, which is another reason I love watching it with her.

There’s something else about this show—a reason it means so much to me. Halfway through the second season, the main character’s former-enemy-turned-best-friend came out as gay. It was a few episodes later, on a night a lot like this, that I finally found the courage to turn toward my mom and say, “You know Roberto? How he’s into other men?”

Ma nodded quickly.

“Well, it’s just that, sometimes… I feel the same way as he does.”