Wednesday morning before the concert, I was moments away from leaving, my vintage BOYBAND T-shirt safely packed in my overnight bag, when my phone rang.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Lane? Eres tú?”

I immediately switched into Spanish. “Abuela? Cómo estás? How are you?”

“I’m very well, thank you for asking. Your mother tells me you have a boyfriend.”

I put down my bags and sat on the couch. Of course. The boyfriend would be the first thing she mentioned.

“I do, Abuela. And I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. No more sending men to see me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you play coy with me. Someone named Jason showed up just last month. Told me you’d given him my name and number and the name of the inn where I work.”

“Jason.” She paused. “Oh, yes. Jason Middleton. He was a nice young man. And tall. Tall enough even for you.”

“I just turned twenty-six, Abuela. These boys you’re sending are barely twenty years old. No more, okay? I’m dating a really nice man now.”

“Tell me about him, then. Is he a member of the Church?”

“Of course he is. You know how important that is to me.”

She cleared her throat. “Did he serve a mission?”

I could almost see her sitting in her living room in Arecibo, a stubby pencil in her hand, marking check boxes down her list of “requirements for Lane’s husband.” I wasn’t necessarily down with the opinion that a mission was some sort of a guarantee. Like it was the only measuring stick for good character, but I respected Abuela too much to argue.

“Yep. He did.”

“And he’s a nice man? He has a good family?”

“He’s very nice. I’ve met all his family, and they’re wonderful too.”

“I can’t wait to meet him. You’ll bring him, won’t you? To Thanksgiving?”

“I don’t know, Abuela. He has family in Virginia. He might be going home. I’m not sure what his plans are.”

“Virginia is very close to North Carolina.”

“Yes, it is.”

“But Puerto Rico is very far away. Please, mija. Bring him for me. I am an old woman. Let me meet him and see for myself that he loves you.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to him. I’ll see what I can figure out.”

“Ahh, perfect. I’ll call your mother. I will cook!”