~6~

"More mashed tatatoes, please," Marty asked around a mouthful of food, holding up his plate.

"Ew, Marty!" Maria scrunched up her nose. "You're gross."

"Maria!" Kay exclaimed in exasperation, shooting an apologetic look Sheridan's way. "Apologize to your cousin. He's not gross."

"But talking with your mouth full is," Paloma scolded.

"Sowwy," Marty shrugged, his mouth only slightly less full. He lifted his plate again, looking at Luis pointedly.

Sheridan hid her smile behind her napkin as Luis inspected their son's plate.

Luis took the plate from Marty and set it back down in front of him. "Finish your peas, first."

"But Papa," Marty whined.

Luis meant business. "Finish your peas."

"Yes, Papa," Marty pouted.

"Then you can have some more mashed potatoes," Sheridan told him, searching out Luis's eyes to make sure she hadn't overstepped any boundaries.

Luis gave a small nod of his head in answer.

Once she had her answer, Sheridan averted her eyes, uncomfortable under Luis's watchful gaze. She'd thought he wouldn't be able to stand the sight of her once they'd come face to face again, but it seemed he couldn't tear his eyes away from her, and his scrutiny was unnerving.

"Abuela," Marty turned his attention to Pilar, "why doesn't aunt Theresa want to spend Thanksgiving with us?"

Pilar looked stricken, her eyes and her smile sad. "It isn't that she doesn't *want* to spend Thanksgiving with us, Marty…" she trailed off when she felt the comfort of Martin's hand on her shoulder.

"She wants to spend it with Little Ethan and Jane," Paloma finished for her mother.

Marty seemed to accept Paloma's answer and returned to his previous abandoned activity, pushing the tiny green peas that littered his plate around with his fork.

"Marty," Luis gently chastised, covering the small hand with his much larger one. "Stop playing with your food."

On the other side of Sheridan, Maria giggled, covering her mouth with both of her hands at her mother's own warning look.

His fork confiscated, Marty's attention shifted back to Sheridan, and he studied her with serious blue eyes, his fingers absently pulling at his dinner roll. "My aunt Theresa is married to a bad man. He's a Crane."

"Por favor," Pilar muttered under her breath. "Luis," she warned.

The clatter of silverware ceased as all eyes were drawn to Luis and Sheridan, and Marty, who continued on with no intervention from his father.

"Papa says all Cranes are bad," Marty informed Sheridan, not noticing, in his childish innocence, the wounded look in her blue eyes. "Right, Papa?"

"Maria," Kay stood up, scooping her protesting daughter from her chair and setting her down with a slight groan, "why don't we go check on Samantha in the living room?"

"You said I could have pie," Maria whined as Kay tugged her away from the table.

"Later," Kay hissed.

Paloma lifted her napkin from her lap and placed it on the table in front of her. "I'll…I'm gonna…in there," she finished awkwardly.

"Mi hijo," Pilar choked out in an overly bright voice, desperately trying to cut through the tension that seemed to suck all of the oxygen out of the room, "more mashed potatoes?" When it seemed her offer fell on deaf ears, she looked to Martin for help.

Martin responded by standing up and crossing the small distance to Marty's side. Cupping his hands under the boy's arms, he lifted him up and onto his hip. "Up you go. That's enough."

"But Grandpa," Marty frowned. "I don't wanna. I want to stay with Mama and Papa."

"Not right now," Martin replied. "Pilar?"

Pilar hesitated for the briefest of seconds.

"It's okay, Pilar," Sheridan finally spoke. "I think it's best if Luis and I have this conversation alone."

"She's right, Mama," Luis agreed.

"Please," Pilar implored them both before she left. "Don't say something in anger that you'll regret later."

"It's really too bad," Sheridan turned to Luis with tears in her eyes as soon as they were alone.

Luis opened his mouth to speak but couldn't force the words out, her very nearness twisting his emotions and making it difficult for him to think and react clearly.

"She's a few years too late."

Oh the angst!

LOL!

Too much? Not enough?

You tell me.

Feedback is much appreciated.

Thanks so much for reading!