“Yeah,” Natalia says. “They’ve cleaned the house, started the laundry, organized Sebastian’s nursery, and prepared enough food to sustain us through the apocalypse. Dinner should be ready soon.” She leans forward and lowers her voice to a whisper. “Tia Viviane even purchased condoms. For later, she said. But I swear, the only penis I’ll be seeing for the foreseeable future is Sebastian’s when I bathe or change him.”

“Is there anything that could possibly fall into the category of TMI for you?”

“You mean, like the fact that Paulo and I regularly use butt plugs to spice up our sex life?”

Jesus. “Yes. Like that.”

“Nope,” she says matter-of-factly.

Shaking my head, I guide her down the hall. “C’mon, I want to show you the goodies I brought.”

When we enter the living area, a cacophony of voices greets us. Lina and Jaslene are prepping food in the kitchen, my mother and aunts are lounging on the couch, and Rey is sitting in an armchair, his eyes fixed on the TV screen.

Natalia doesn’t even let me present the gifts—massage vouchers for the grown-ups, ridiculously adorable clothes for Sebastian, and a white noise machine for his room. She simply grabs the bag and heads upstairs, (loudly) explaining over her shoulder that she needs to put Sebastian down for a nap.

I cross the room to my mother and kiss her forehead. “Oi, Mãe.”

“Oi, filha,” she says without losing her place in her conversation with her sisters.

I kiss Tia Mariana and Tia Viviane, then round the island to join Lina and Jaslene.

“There you are,” Lina says, a cutting board of diced onions and whole tomatoes on the counter in front of her. She dabs her eyes with a tissue, then grabs a knife. “We were wondering if you’d show up. Your mom said you passed on gardening today.”

“Wasn’t in the mood,” I say, shrugging. “Still tired from all the fake dating with Dean. We’re finally done, though.”

“In more ways than one, I hear,” Lina says, narrowing her eyes. “Want to fill us in on what happened?”

It figures that Lina would already know Dean and I are no longer spending time together. Dean tells Max everything, and Max tells Lina everything. Together, the three of them could supply Page Six with a year’s worth of gossip. Not wanting to discuss Dean, I ignore Lina’s remark and focus on the food they’re preparing. “What are you two making, by the way?”

“Picadillo,” Jaslene says. “Lina’s been literally begging me for the recipe for my empanadas, and I didn’t want her to embarrass herself any longer, so I caved. The filling’s almost ready.”

I lean in and take a whiff. “Smells delicious.”