Archive of Our Own

Ransom didn’t have any strong opinions towards the nurse. As much as he and Harlan butt heads, Marta took care of him well and gave him a friend. For the creator of the Thrombey family, someone that cared about him was hard to come by.

So, yeah. Even though Marta was a naive, soft-spoken, timid doe that he could easily step on, choke, or destroy, Ransom didn’t hate her.

He almost did. Especially when Harlan informed him of her sole inheritance of his entire will. But then that old coot said something too intriguing for Ransom to ignore.

“You know, Marta beats me at GO more than you ever have.”

That caught Ransom’s attention. He was the only one that could beat Granddad at Go. His rapidly unraveling murder mystery plot that was being conceived in his head halted in its tracks. He had a new, debatably more interesting and fulfilling, objective. 

Investigate Marta Cabrera. Learn what makes her so special. Weasel his way into her good graces, and thus into his grandfather’s good graces, until Harlan changes his mind and decides that Ransom is worthy of his rightful cut of the will.

What was it about Marta that prompted Harlan to leave everything in her name? What was it about her that made Harlan so undeniably fond of her? Much more than he ever was with his own flesh and blood. Obviously, she wasn’t “boinking” him, but she had to be doing something .

Ransom had tuned out Harlan’s next words, standing up silently and leaving the room without a second glance back, making a beeline to the living room. Set on finding his grandfather’s nurse.

There she was, frozen, as his asshole of a father used her as a pawn in his racist “debates” with the rest of the family. Wanting Marta to himself for the rest of the evening, Ransom stepped in.

“Dad, back the fuck off. Stop trying to use the nurse as a useless piece in your scheme to convince us that you’re not a sack of shit,” Ransom drawled, taking the plate from Marta’s hands and shoving it against his father’s chest before gently taking Marta’s arm and leading her away. His family didn’t deserve a single guilty look back at them, so he hoped Marta didn’t turn to face them, apologetic as always.

“Ransom?” Marta asked, soft and shocked. When she stared up at him with those big, brown eyes, Ransom could almost believe that she really had seduced his grandfather.

Now, don’t get him wrong, it’s not like Ransom had any real honorable intentions for investigating Cabrera. She was, at best, a moderately attractive woman employed by his family that got in the way of his inheritance. At worst, she had knowingly wormed her way into the Thrombey family to deceive everyone and steal his grandfather’s wealth away from the rightful recipients.

She deserved everything coming to her, which, if Ransom could help it, would not be the entirety of Harlan Thrombey’s assets.

So, of course, Ransom took Marta to the side, leaning his shoulder up against the wall as he gave her his most charming smile. “Hey, Cabrera. Figured you needed some saving. Why don’t you let me take care of you for a bit.”

Marta just blinked up at him, confused. Ransom had purposefully placed himself against the wall so that Marta wouldn’t feel that he was trapping her. If he wanted to endear himself to his grandfather, Marta couldn’t have any idea that he was playing her like a fiddle.

“This is very unlike you, Ransom. What do you want from me?” Marta crossed her arms in front of her chest and gave him an unimpressed look.

Maybe she was smarter than he had originally assumed. At least she wasn’t running away. He smirked at her. “Aw, come on. Maybe I just want to get to know my grandfather’s nurse. For all the years you’ve worked for him, I think the most I know about you is that you puke when you lie, you’re from Brazil-”

“Cuba.”

“-and you beat my grandfather at GO more than I do. Intriguing.”

Marta sighed, rolling her eyes. “I see. You’re just jealous that I could possibly be better than you at something. I’ll just listen to Fran talk about Hallmark movies if this was all you needed.”

As she turned to walk away, Ransom grabbed her wrist forcefully before releasing some of the pressure, still holding her in a firm grip. His fleeting fear, evident on his face, vanished when Marta turned around, replaced with a fake pout as he said, “Don’t be that way. Come on, spend a bit of time with me. At least I won’t make you listen to me while I tell everyone that I think you’re scum and don’t deserve my grandfather’s hard-earned money.”

Marta huffed and turned back around, knowing that when Ransom wanted something, he stopped at nothing to get it. And at that moment, it seemed that he wanted a conversation or two with her. He grinned at her like an asshole, his teeth bared like a predator, telling Marta that she was probably making a horrible decision.

Spinning them around until Marta was pressed up against the wall, Ransom ignored the sharp look from his mother that was stabbing at the back of his head. His arm was leaned up against the wall, Ransom as close as he would dare without fear of being slapped. And Marta would slap him. 

“Why don’t you start by making me jealous of your functional and definitely more loving family?”

Marta gave him a small smile that Ransom instantly celebrated, his eyes going a bit wide when he couldn’t recognize any of his usual malice or deceit in the sensation. He couldn’t just be gleeful that he made his grandfather’s stupid nurse smile at something he said . That would be absurd and if someone tried to make that seem factual, he would never let them see the light of day again.

“Well, I’m staying with my mother, and my sister, Alice. My sister is just about to start college, and my mom and I are very proud of her.” While Marta spoke, her eyes flickered around the room, no doubt seeing Ransom’s family sneak disgusted glances at the two of them holding polite conversation

Ransom almost made a comment about whether or not her sister was hot just to be a dick, but he needed to be on Marta’s good side to really see what Harlan sees in her. So instead, he asked follow-up questions, playing that he was interested, and never talking about himself. Of course, to ask good follow-up questions, you had to actually listen to what the person was saying, something that Ransom had never been particularly good at.

Leaning forward, accidentally enthralled, Ransom said, “Your mother must work really hard. To not only send you through nursing school but also send your sister to college is very impressive. Especially for an immigrant, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Marta blushed before shooting back at him with, “Maybe for you. I don’t think you worked a bit for any of the money you have!”

Ransom knew he should be angry. He should be shouting at her. He should be plotting her demise for ever saying something like that to him. But that blush did something to him. He put that red tint on her pretty face. Just by pretending to be interested in her life and her family. If listening to her made her blush like that and joke with him, he almost thought he could listen to her talk for the rest of his life.

So he laughed. He didn’t take offense, and he laughed.

The smile she gave him in return seemed to light up the whole house.

Naturally, right at that moment, Harlan had to leave his study and fix Ransom with a calculating look once they locked eyes. Ransom winked at him, and Harlan’s eyes narrowed. 

He made his way over, placing a caring hand on Marta’s shoulder before saying, “Are you enjoying yourself, my dear?”

Marta rolled her eyes at him good-naturedly. “I’m working, Harlan. I’m not supposed to be enjoying myself.”

Ransom piped in, “You’re not supposed to be, but you are.” He threw her a smirk that she shook her head at.

“Yes, I guess I am.”

Harlan gave Ransom a curt nod, still suspicious of his intentions, but he let them continue talking to mingle with the rest of his family. He was probably just meeting with each family member to tell them that he was cutting them off.

Just as Fran was walking by, Ransom gave her a patronizing grin and said, “Oi, Francisco! Could I get another glass of whiskey? With no arsenic in it, preferably.”

She rolled her eyes at him and grumbled to herself, but he knew she was going to get it. He was still chuckling slightly when he turned around to see Marta fixing him with a disappointed expression.

Fuck. He forgot that he was trying to seem nice.

“Goodbye, Ransom,” Marta said, turning around to talk to someone else. Probably Meg, though he couldn’t understand why. Ransom didn’t even try to stop her this time.

He’s going to need to work even harder to get on her good side now, and apparently, that meant he had to be nice to Fran . Being a good person is so exhausting.

***

Ransom had gone home that night feeling like he had only taken a pebble off the top of a mountain. Sure, he had tried to make himself look good to Marta, but it’s not like he had gotten very far. From walking through the door until the time he fell asleep, Ransom thought about how he could get back on track.

When he woke up, he had a plan.

First, he was going to get Marta a gift. She probably liked nerdy things, so he didn’t have much to choose from, but he figured she liked reading. He went to his bookshelf and picked out one that he hadn’t touched in years. Around the Corner and Down the Lane by Harlan Thrombey. When he was younger, Ransom loved to read his grandfather’s books. This specific copy was filled with his own annotations.

Marta would probably go wild over a look into Ransom’s warped mind, even if it was from years ago.

Second, he was going to write her a note. Probably some drivel about how he was sorry for his attitude last night and he wanted to do something nice for her in return. Girls love that kind of sappy shit.

But he was already thinking ahead.

Thirdly, he brought flowers to give to Fran. As much as the thought made him want to curl up and die, he knew that Marta wouldn’t accept his apology if he was only apologizing to her. Step three technically included him treating Fran better, but he was going to take that slow. He didn’t know if his three-sizes-too-small heart could handle all that.

Fourth, he would start spending more time at his grandfather’s house. Obviously, if he was going to spend time with Marta, he would have to be there, but this step was mostly to stop Harlan from thinking he was up to something nefarious with his angelic nurse.

So he enacted his plan, packing everything into his beamer and driving down to Harlan Thrombey’s estate. What he didn’t expect was to see the rest of his family there.

As soon as he stepped out of his car, Walt made a beeline towards him with a disapproving look. “Look who it is. Made sure you were on time for Dad’s Will reading, did you? Despite being late for your grandfather’s 85th birthday party? Never thought you would turn out to be such a scumbag.”

Ransom ignored it all, saying, “Will reading?”

Walt rolled his eyes. “Don’t play dumb with me, Ransom. Why else would you be here?”

Ransom looked him dead in the eye and said, “Considering granddad cut me out of the Will, I’m here to see Marta.” Immediately, he grabbed his things from the backseat of his car and stepped inside without ringing the doorbell.

Only to come face to face with one Marta Cabrera. Expecting more time to put his facade on, Ransom froze before thrusting the gift towards her with his eyes wide.

She took it gingerly, giving him a concerned once-over. “Ransom, what’s this?”

“An apology,” he muttered. “Where’s Fran?”

“In the kitchen. Ransom, wha-”

He nodded at her. “Cool. See you at the reading.”

Walking towards the kitchen as fast as he could go, Ransom willed himself not to look back at her. He couldn’t let on that he cared what she thought. Which he didn’t. So maybe he should look back at her. By the time he had decided that could help him with his plan, he was already standing awkwardly in front of Fran, too far away for Marta to see him now.

He huffed to himself. If Marta wasn’t even going to see this, what was the point? “Here. For you. Sorry about last night.”

Short and curt, Ransom turned on his heel and walked right back out. Good enough. Fran didn’t deserve more than that when he was doing it all for Marta anyway.

The point was, apparently, that Fran loved to talk. And talk she did. By the time Harlan had called everyone into Harlan’s office, Marta was walking up to stand next to him with a big smile.

“Thank you for the apology, Ransom. I was going to say that you shouldn’t be apologizing to me, but it would seem that Fran has recently received a very nice and expensive-looking bouquet of flowers.”

Ransom nodded, still not knowing quite what to say. Maybe he should just play it off. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I never apologize. I have no need to.” That didn’t work because Marta just smiled knowingly at him. Ransom inwardly grimaced. Why couldn’t he get back some semblance of his suave nature? 

Just as he was turning to make an irritated remark to Marta at her assumption that he could be a good person, his mother came barreling into the room, bombarding him with questions.

“ Ransom ! What’s this I hear about you being cut out of the will? Is Walt lying to us?”

Ransom’s face hardened (although he didn’t know why it had ever been soft). “Nope!” Ransom said, popping his ‘p’. “Walt is not lying. Grandad cut me out of the will.”

Immediately, Linda’s expression changed to one of pity. “Oh, I see. Well, darling, maybe this is the best thing to happen to you.”

Ransom didn’t answer, staring at her blankly. She was going to be in for a real shock when Harlan revealed what he was really going to do with his money. Linda opened her mouth to say something else, probably demanding a response, until Harlan walked into the room.

He motioned for Marta to follow him as he sat down at his desk, grinning at his horrible family. “Hello, all! Thank you for gathering with me here today. I figured, since I’m getting up there in age, I should probably share with you what I mean to do with my assets should I face my demise.”

Ransom allowed himself a small smile as he watched the rest of his family hold hands as they prayed that he would be giving them everything they wanted, no questions asked. Deciding to play around, Ransom caught Marta’s eye and winked at her, his smile widening when she became more confused.

Then the shitshow began.

“My estate and all of its contents, I leave to Marta Cabrera.”

Shouts sounded out among the Thrombey’s as Ransom never once broke eye contact with Marta. She looked terrified, her eyes wide

“My wealth and assets, both liquid and otherwise, I leave to Marta Cabrera.”

Marta finally broke eye contact to back away from Harlan’s desk, her eyes flitting around like a deer cornered by a pack of wolves.

“My entire ownership of Blood Like Wine publishing, I leave to Marta Cabrera. The copyright of its catalog likewise, I leave in its entirety to Marta Cabrera.”

That’s where Walt really went mad. He stood up, flinging his cane this way and that about how an immigrant like her didn’t deserve to take his money away from its rightful recipients. The rest of the family followed suit, stalking closer and closer to Marta as she tried to tell them she had no idea.

Harlan tried to silence the room with his voice, but his family wouldn’t listen.

“Are you boinking my dad, you slut?”

That was Ransom’s last straw. He had stewed in the chaos for long enough, and he had successfully enacted the first three steps of his plan, which was really all he came for.

Elbowing his way through his family under the guise of wishing some harm to her, Ransom took Marta by the arm and led her away.

“Ransom, what are you doing? What’s going on? I swear I knew nothing about this. I don’t want the money at all.” Marta was shaking, trying to trust Ransom but not being quite sure what he was going to do with her.

“That’s probably why he thinks you deserve it, sweetheart.” She blanched at him so he gave her a lopsided grin. “Relax, we’re only going to my car. My family’s about to tear you to shreds, and I don’t think my grandad would like to see that happen.”

Breathless as Ransom rushed her into his passenger seat, Marta asked, “And you?”

He pretended to weigh the options before he smirked and said, “Jury’s still out on that one,” before shutting the door behind her. 

He hopped into the driver’s seat, barely taking the time to put his seatbelt on before he was slamming on the gas, shouting out the window to throw Linda’s own words right back at her, “You know, I think this might be the best thing to happen to all of you !”

It wasn’t until they were halfway to Ransom’s place that he realized he was humming to himself. He turned to Marta with a big smile. “So that was fun, huh?”

“No!” She wailed. “Harlan just decided that I deserve his money more than his own children, and somehow you’re the only one that’s not attacking me, which, I’ll be honest, I never saw coming.”

He just shrugged. “You probably should’ve. I’ve known since Granddad’s birthday party.”

She slumped into her seat as she stared at him, her eyebrows furrowed and all emotions drained from her stupidly pretty face. “I see.”

He didn’t bother unraveling any of that, deliberately ignoring the added tension that was suffocating the space between them as he parked his car in front of his house. He opened the door for her, playing the gentleman as she walked in without uttering a thank you. So she was definitely upset about something .

He took her coat, hanging it up next to his while she looked around his place. As much as his house never felt like a home , it was at least his . That was something no changed will could ever take away.

“I bet you have maids to clean up after you,” Marta said, seemingly without thinking.

Ransom frowned. “No, actually . I keep everything clean all by myself.” Marta scoffed and his frown deepened. “Listen, I get that you’re upset at me for saving you or whatever, but I would appreciate it if you didn’t insult me to my face in my home that I take precious care to maintain.”

He sat down on his couch and fixed her with a glare. He was supposed to act all nice to her, but it wasn’t in his nature to ignore blatant disrespect. “There are very few things in my life that I can claim as mine. My beamer and this house are mine , and I worked hard for them. My family may say that I’m some trust fund baby that leeches off their teet, but this is all self-made. I may have been working as a research assistant for my grandfather, but the work I did was compensated fairly. He didn’t simply throw money at me, you can be sure of that.”

Ransom calmed down from his little rant, his chest rising as he took in a deep breath. He looked Marta in the eyes and said with conviction, “I understand that what my family says may seem true at heart, but I don’t want you coming into my home as a guest and disrespecting me when you know nothing about me. Capiche?”

Marta just nodded at him silently, her eyes giving nothing away.

Ransom’s demeanor changing, he smiled at her like a good host. “Would you like me to get you anything to drink?”

When she shook her head, he made his way into the kitchen to fix himself something to eat. As delicious as those Biscoff cookies were, that couldn’t be the only thing he ate all day. He wasn’t stupid enough to think that his figure wasn’t important; it was arguably his best quality. If he was gonna seduce Marta, he had to keep up the bod.

(Ransom would never say, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint when he had gone from investigating his grandfather’s nurse to trying to seduce her. Romance her, whatever.)

Eventually, Marta wandered into the kitchen, leaning against the counter on her elbows as she silently watched Ransom finish making his turkey sandwich. Then she sighed, “I’m sorry, Ransom. I guess my frustration with the day kind of got the best of me. I shouldn’t have insulted you like that. Thank you for allowing me to be a guest in your home.”

Ransom should’ve expected an apology, really. Marta was a saint with no bad bone in her body. As much as he appreciated it, he didn’t deserve it. Especially with everything he had put her through over the years. He wasn’t about to tell Marta that, though. So he just grinned at her, neither accepting nor denouncing her apology.

Some part of his heart tugged at him, telling him that Marta probably hadn’t eaten anything either. And he couldn’t just leave her hanging after she was being so nice to him!

“Here, Marta. Would you like some of this sandwich? I think I ate too many cookies this morning, and I can’t possibly finish this.”

He couldn’t fool Marta. She smiled at him like she knew exactly what he wasn’t saying before moving to look around his kitchen for a plate. Winking at him, she grabbed one half of his sandwich and took a bite out of it before moving to sit on his couch with her plate in her lap.

Ransom didn’t quite know what it was about her that entranced him. She was smart, sure, and although that was a good quality, it didn’t matter all that much to him. Maybe it was that, even though he had said that she didn’t know him, Marta seemed to understand him more than the rest of his family save from maybe Harlan. And though he couldn’t say just yet whether he liked it, it was at least interesting.

Once they had gotten over the initial tension, Marta made herself comfortable in Ransom’s home, looking around politely as they sat next to each other on the couch. Sometimes she would comment on the art and books that she noticed, asking questions that Ransom knew the answers to but had never been asked before. He gave her a genuine smile that she returned in kind.

Marta ended up staying over at Ransom’s frighteningly sincere insistence. He offered her his bed, having never had a need for a guest bedroom. After some back and forth, she gratefully took the comfort of his plush mattress while he wrapped his favorite blanket around himself on the couch.

He didn’t think he had ever been this selfless in his whole life, but she deserved to be comfortable. Especially since he was just using her to get back at Harlan.

Wasn’t he?

***

The next morning, Ransom was up early (not at all to do with sleeping on the couch in a room with walls made of glass and a sunrise at 5 am). He got himself freshened up in a spare bathroom, trying to look as presentable as possible before he started on breakfast.

It’s not like he had anything to prove, but Ransom was determined to make this breakfast a feast the likes of which Marta had never seen. Once he thought he was finished, Marta would still be asleep, so he would just keep going. He prepared two parfaits with fresh fruit, scrambled eggs, avocado toast, bacon, and freshly squeezed orange juice using the oranges from his backyard.

Marta must have been exhausted from all the “excitement” because she didn’t come downstairs until a little after 11. She rubbed her eyes sleepily as she trudged down the stairs. As soon as she laid eyes on Ransom wearing a “Kiss the Cook” apron standing in the kitchen with platters of food prepared on the table, Marta froze in her tracks convinced she was still dreaming.

“Good morning, Marta!” Ransom called over his shoulder as he pulled blueberry muffins out of the oven. “Why don't you make a plate? I’ll join you in a second.”

Pleasantly surprised at the effort Ransom had put in to make her feel at home, Marta took a seat at the table and admired his hard work. As soon as he was sat in front of her, Marta patted his hand with a beaming smile.

“Thank you, Ransom! This looks delicious. You must have worked very hard; I wish I was awake to help you.”

Now, Ransom didn’t exactly need any praise. He had been cooking for himself ever since he started living on his own, and it wasn’t like he had cooked everything only for Marta to eat. But…

The warmth in his chest that blossomed when she praised him? When she approved? When she smiled at him? He could admit he wanted to bask in that feeling forever, even if it meant having to work harder to be nice to everyone.

Ransom winked at her, disguising his pride as confidence, keeping his hand under hers. “Well, after last night, I figured you deserved a feast. One fitting for the heir to the Thrombey throne!”

Marta rolled her eyes, pulling her hand away with a tiny smile and a shake of her head. “Why don’t we just eat. I don’t want your hard work to go to waste.”

They dug in, piling their plates and not talking very much. Only after a few days of “bonding”, they were so in sync that they could pass plates around without a word. Ransom would never admit it to himself, but he kind of liked it.

He liked it a bit more when Marta let out little sounds of pleasure at his cooking, shoveling more onto her plate like she couldn’t get enough. He didn’t quite know what to do with himself. Her moans were kind of hot, and he kicked himself for thinking that way. He wasn’t seducing her, he was manipulating her! He needed to get his act together.

When it seemed like they were both starting to slow down, Ransom spoke up. “Now, I know you probably want to get back to work and check on Harlan, but I can tell you that my pathetic, desperate family will be there trying futilely to change his mind. I want to keep you away from them, so is it alright if I take you back to your place after this? You were gone overnight, and I don’t want your Mom and sister to worry about you.”

While he spoke, Marta watched him thoughtfully, quickly panicking when he mentioned her family. “Oh god! Mama must be so worried! Are you sure it wouldn’t be any trouble? You could always drop me off at the estate to get my car.”

Ransom shook his head vehemently. “You are not going near that house until my family has cooled off. I’ll pick your car up for you later today when I check on Grandad.”

Marta’s features softened. “Thank you. You’re a good person, Ransom.”

Well, didn’t that feel like a punch in the gut? Sure, he wasn’t sure that he really wanted to get back at Harlan through Marta anymore, but that didn’t mean he had started out that way. He changed his mind. He got to know Marta, and he could see exactly what Harlan liked about her. And, for better or for worse, he liked those things about her too.

It meant the world to him that Marta thought he could be a good person, but the truth was that he wasn’t. He had wanted to manipulate her so that he could get back the money that he thought he deserved. But he didn’t deserve it. He would have been acting just like the rest of his family. The very people and behavior he was trying to protect Marta from, he would have been a part of.

When Marta got up from the table to grab her things, she leaned over to press a grateful (and probably platonic) kiss to Ransom’s cheek. He just about wanted to cry. To distract himself, he got up to wash the dishes and put away the leftovers to have later. By the time Marta was coming back down the stairs, he had successfully steeled himself, his true emotions fully locked back away.

“You ready to go?” He asked with a forced casualness that came across relaxed.

Marta nodded, smiling at him as she started walking out to the car. He wanted her for a second, taking a shaky breath before following.

***

Ransom hadn’t expected much when he pulled up to Marta’s house, but he definitely hadn’t expected to be accused of kidnapping by a very angry Cuban woman that he assumed was Marta’s mother. He simply stayed silent, letting Marta take over. This wasn’t his place.

Eventually, she managed to usher her mother inside, so Ransom moved to get back into his car, jolting when Marta grabbed his arm and pulled him inside with her.

“You brought him inside with you?” Mrs. Cabrera asked incredulously.

Staying calm and letting go of Ransom’s arm, Marta introduced him. “Mama, this is Ransom, Harlan’s grandson.”

Mrs. Cabrera snorted. “Oh, I’ve heard all about him. Don’t think I’ve forgotten, mija.”

Ransom raised an eyebrow at Marta curiously, but she ignored him. “It’s different now, Mama! He’s helping me.”

“Ha! For his own gain, most likely.”

She might have been right at the beginning, but Ransom didn’t want his past actions to be what defined his first meeting with Marta’s mother. He couldn’t bring himself to wish any ill will on Marta at all. “If I may, Mrs. Cabrera. Marta has found herself in a frustrating position with my family. I will let her explain it when she’s ready, but as someone who grew up around those scumbags, I couldn’t let her get wrapped up in their manipulative shit. Pardon my language.”

Mrs. Cabrera seemed to grudgingly accept his explanation. She gave Marta a look as if to say “This isn’t over” before going into the kitchen to finish what she had been cooking.

Marta collapsed onto the couch, patting the cushion next to her. “If she’s going to get mad at me for not telling her where I was last night, I’m gonna need you here for moral support as my partner in crime.”

Ransom felt stuck to the floor. Marta wanted him with her. In her home. Because she thought of him as her “partner in crime”. She thought of him as a friend . If you had told Ransom that a few months ago, he would have laughed hysterically in your face and then punched your lights out.

This Ransom was verging on the edge of being affectionate.

It wasn’t often that someone saw him at his worst every day and still decided that he was worthwhile. Marta Cabrera is a saint, and it was in this realization that Ransom discovered just how empty he would feel if she decided to give up on him.

He couldn’t let that happen.

Instead of taking the seat that Marta offered, Ransom smiled at her and followed her mother into the kitchen.

“Hello, Mrs. Cabrera. Is there anything I can do to help?” Ransom asked, leaning over her shoulder to watch her work.

She scowled at him. Now that Marta wasn’t nearby, she could express her distaste freely. “Yeah. You can help by getting out of my kitchen! Don’t think I can’t see what you’re trying to do here. I won’t let you corrupt my baby girl.”

With a small smile to himself, Ransom stepped around her to start washing dishes at the sink. “Have you ever considered, ma’am, that your daughter is, instead, making me a better person?”

Mrs. Cabrera didn’t answer. She looked him over with a blank face before turning back to her cooking.

Ransom didn’t mind; he was used to cleaning his dishes in silence. He made sure to scrub really well so that she couldn’t make a comment about “sub-par dishwashing abilities” that surely came from his “pampered upbringing”. Once he had cleaned all the dishes, he started drying them and categorizing them based on whether he thought they would be placed in the same cabinet or drawer.

By the time he was drying off the last few items, Mrs. Cabrera had made the decision to offer him an olive branch.

“Chop these vegetables. Surely this is something even you can’t mess up.”

Ransom grinned.

***

The next time Ransom checked his watch, Mrs. Cabrera had finished cooking and was setting out plates. As she grudgingly got out a plate for Ransom, he stopped her.

“Oh, no need, ma’am. I won’t be staying; I need to check on my grandfather and pick up Marta’s car from his estate. Thank you for having me.”

Mrs. Cabrera seemed surprised, but she didn’t say anything, waving him off instead. Marta tried to stop him on the way out the door.

“Ransom, you can’t leave now! I think my mom was just starting to like you…” Marta rested her hand on Ransom’s upper arm and squeezed gently.

Ransom patted her hand before removing it. “She was just too tired of me to say anything. I wore her down. Besides, you’ve been gone all day! I’m sure Grandad got his old-man-diapers in a twist worrying over you, so I need to check on him.”

Marta’s eyes went wide. “Oh, shit! Harlan! I didn’t give him his medication yesterday. Let me go with you.”

“No can do, princess. There’s no guarantee my family won’t be there, and you’re not going near them until they get over themselves. I’ll let the old man know you’re alright. I’m sure a night or two without his meds won’t kill him.”

Marta wasn’t happy about it, but Ransom wouldn’t take no for an answer. While they were arguing, he made his way out the door and into his car, driving away with a cheery wave before Marta could realize what he was doing.

“Ransom!” Marta shouted, stomping her foot. He grinned to himself. She was adorable.

Although Ransom knew it would be a lot easier with Marta there, he was the one that insisted she stay over, although he still didn’t quite understand why. It was his fault Harlan didn’t get his medicine. The least he could do was stop by and check in.

He was relieved to find no other cars in front of Harlan’s place. His family must have gotten tired and run back to their houses with their tails between their legs. He stepped out of his car, stopping to pet the dogs when they ran up to him, barking.

Not bothering to knock, Ransom walked into the foyer, calling out to Harlan. “Hey, Grandad! It’s Ransom.”

“I’m in my office. Is Marta with you?”

Ransom almost wanted to roll his eyes, but he knew he would’ve been asking the exact same thing. “Nah, I dropped her off at her house. It’s just me, unfortunately.”

Harlan sighed, staring at Ransom deadpan as he plopped himself down on the armchair next to his desk. “Pity.”

Ransom paid him no mind. He knew that Harlan preferred Marta’s company to his. Deep down, however, his heart stung with the knowledge that he used to be the favorite. Marta deserved it, definitely; but he missed it.

Determined, Ransom sat up and asked Harlan questions. About what he did during his day, how he felt, the rest of their family, Marta… Naturally, Harlan was wary, but if his grandchild was trying to reach out, who was he to deny him? That’s what he wanted, after all.

Feeling bare in his attempts to be vulnerable and reconnect, the only thing that seemed to be pushing Ransom forward towards progress was the feeling reminiscent of when Marta smiled at him approvingly. She would be proud of his attempts at reconciling with his favorite family member.

Soon, however, it came Harlan’s turn to interrogate Ransom.

“What did you do to Marta? And don’t bother lying. I saw her leave with you yesterday, and her car is still out front.” Harlan always had been able to read him like a book.

Ransom tried to push down the indignant feeling from people always assuming the worst of him. Sure, before all this he wouldn’t have minded, content to be what everyone expected him to be. For some reason, Marta made him want to be better. He wanted to prove them wrong about him. So it hurt when people questioned his intentions.

In many ways, they had been right at some point or another. Not now, though. He could never dream of hurting Marta now, although he didn’t quite know why.

“She stayed over at my place to get away from our manipulative family. I know what you’re thinking, and you don’t have to worry about it.” At Harlan’s unconvinced stare, Ransom felt the playfulness he used to have around his grandfather give way. He continued, “She may be hot as shit, but I slept on the couch. I made her breakfast in the morning, and then I took her back to her place. That’s where she is now.”

Ransom would need to work harder than just one conversation to endear himself back into his grandfather’s good graces. Harlan simply nodded his head once before speaking. “Alright. You best be going. I assume I won’t be getting my medication tonight, and an old man needs his rest.”

Harlan stood from his seat and walked Ransom to the front door. Ransom stopped him with a hurried but gentle hand on his shoulder. “Just one moment, Grandad. I need to speak with Fran.”

Harlan narrowed his eyes but said nothing, his eyebrows giving away his surprise. Ransom found Fran in the kitchen once again, washing up after Harlan’s dinner.

“Hey, Fran. Can I ask a favor?”

Shocked, Fran whirled around. His presence and tone were unexpected; she could hardly recognize him. “Depends on what it is…”

Getting right to the point, Ransom smiled at her. “Will you drive behind me in my beamer while I take Marta’s car back to her place?”

Too stunned to say anything more, Fran nodded. Ransom assumed she only agreed because the favor was really for Marta to make her life easier. As much as it pained him to drive it, Ransom would be more experienced to deal with a malfunctioning part in Marta’s shitty car than Fran would be. His beamer was in top shape, so Fran wouldn’t need to worry about that.

Waving to Harlan as he walked out, Ransom fished Marta’s keys out of his pocket and started the car, tossing his own car keys over his shoulder at Fran without looking behind him. Once Fran was ready in his car, giving him a thumbs up from behind him, Ransom made his way down the road.

Once they arrived, Ransom stepped out of the car and up to the porch, fiddling with the keys in his hands. He debated between leaving the keys in the car thus making Marta’s car very stealable or facing her family again while staring down her front door.

“What’s wrong?” Fran called from where she was leaning against the passenger door of his beamer.

Before he could answer, a young girl who Ransom assumed was Alice opened the door. “Who are you and what do you want?”

Stunned by her sass, Ransom stuttered for maybe the first time in his life. “Well, I was just… You see, I-”

“BWAMP!” Alice yelled, miming slapping a button with her hand. “Wrong answer. The answer I was looking for was: staring creepily at my door like a stalker! Now go away!”

The commotion drew steps from behind the door. “Alice, don’t be rude. Who are you even yelling at?” Marta’s face peeked out from beside Alice’s head. “Oh, Ransom! You’re back.”

He smiled at her, finally relaxing. “Marta! I just wanted to give you back your keys. I got your car, so you should be all set to make it to work in the morning.”

She smiled fondly. “You didn’t need to do that. Thank you, Ransom. I appreciate it.”

Ransom was frozen in the rays of her smile, halfway through returning it with his face petrified in an uncomfortable quirk in his cheeks. “Yeah, totally…”

They stood in silence, Marta growing increasingly concerned, until Alice snorted loudly, snapping Ransom out of his stupor. “Wow! You guys are so weird. From what you told me, Marta, I thought Ransom would be-”

“ Heyy! So, Ransom. Was there anything else you needed?”

Catching the cue, Ransom shook his head, slightly disappointed but not knowing why. “No, no. That was all. I’ll see you around.”

Alice waved at him with a smirk before slamming the door in his face. Ransom could still hear Marta attempting to scold Alice quietly so that he couldn’t hear. He chuckled lightly to himself as he walked back down the front porch steps back to the beamer.

Fran didn’t speak as they got into the car and started on their way back to the estate. Ransom couldn’t really tell what was wrong, having spent no time with her before the past few days, but she was probably shocked by… Well, many things from that interaction.

Eventually, she broke the silence. “So… Are you and Marta friends?”

Ransom expected something about how he was tainting Marta’s purity, but he never thought she would be more interested in the nature of their relationship. “I don’t know. I’d like to be, but ultimately it’s all up to her.”

Fran nodded, uncharacteristically silent, speechless, as though she was thinking hard about something. Ransom didn’t mind waiting for her to think through her thoughts. He liked silence, anyway.

“You let me drive the beamer.”

Ransom turned his head slightly to quirk an eyebrow at her. “Yeah, Fran. How else would I have gotten back to my place?”

She sighed. “I’ve been working for Harlan for a long time, Hugh. I know you love that car. You won’t let anybody else near it. Tonight, you let me drive it . Me!”

Ransom simply blinked. He had nothing to say. It’s not like he had any clue why he let her drive the damn thing when she could’ve followed in Marta’s dinky car. Sure, it could’ve broken down, but Marta had been driving it for years, and she didn’t have much trouble with it.

He couldn’t meet Fran’s eye for the rest of the drive.

When he finally dropped her off in front of the estate, he stopped her just as she was about to walk away from the car. “Fran. It’s Ransom.”

“What?”

“You can call me Ransom.”

He sped off before she could get the chance to respond.

***

Ransom was stuck, unsure what to do next. There was no real reason for him to seek out Marta’s company since he had completed his initial plan. He didn’t want to show up unexpectedly at the estate because he still wasn’t sure Harlan wanted him around.

While he debated, his phone rang.

“Hello?” Ransom answered it, barely taking a glance at the caller ID.

“Ah, Ransom! My boy. How would you like to come over? I’m itching for a GO rematch. I think I can really beat you this time.”

Although secretly, Ransom didn’t need any more convincing, he didn’t want to clue Harlan in on his surprising and intense need to be wanted and cared about. “Well…”

At his hesitation, Harlan spoke quickly to get a word in. “Marta has been asking about you.”

Ransom had to calm his racing heart before he came across as too desperate or attached. “I can beat both of you at GO, then. When should I be over?” He could almost hear Harlan cheering.

“Around lunch!” And then he hung up.

Ransom wouldn’t kid himself into believing that Marta was into him , but he wouldn’t be seen in her presence looking less than presentable. He wore his favorite sweater (the one that showed off his muscles) and a nice pair of jeans. He wanted to look like someone Marta would love to cuddle up with.

Deeming himself ready, Ransom quickly cooked up some pieces of bacon and cups of peanut butter for the dogs. When he stepped out of his car, they ran up to him excitedly , not barking as he fed them treats and scratched behind their ears.

As Ransom walked up the front steps and reached out to knock, Fran opened the door with a big smile. “Hello, Ransom! They’re up in his study. Do you mind taking up these snacks and drinks?”

Ransom just nodded, not quite understanding her behavior, but not wanting to ruin the tentative friendship he had attempted to create. He took the tray from her hands and made his way up the stairs.

He could hear Harlan and Marta laughing together, joking around like best friends. He felt weird interrupting them in a moment shared between only them. Knocking lightly, Ransom waited for an affirmative or the creak of someone walking on the old floorboards.

“Ransom!” Marta’s eyes widened as she looked him over with the beginnings of a smile, pink and then red rising high on her cheeks as her eyes moved from his face to his biceps and chest to his… ass?

Did she really? Had he misread her? She didn’t seem like the type of girl that would go for him, but damn if he wasn’t pleasantly surprised by her reaction. He smiled at her. “Fran sent up snacks.”

Ransom almost thought he heard her mumble something about there being more snacks than she expected, but he chalked that up to his traitorous brain.

“Please! Come in, Ransom!” Harlan called from his seat in front of the GO board where Marta was very obviously winning.

“Getting your ass beat again, are we Gramps?”

Harlan grinned with a twinkle in his eye that Ransom hadn’t seen directed towards him in years. “You think you can do better, hotshot? I’d like to see you try.”

Never one to back down from a challenge, Ransom grinned smugly and said, eyes still locked on Harlan’s, “Let’s go, Marta. You and me.”

He turned to see something he couldn’t quite recognize flash across her face before she narrowed her eyes with a playful grin. “You’re on.” She gestured for him to take a seat in front of her.

Harlan moved to his chaise in the back while Ransom took his place in front of Marta. Should he play dirty? Flirt to distract her? It had worked during that Mafia game last 4th of July. He wanted to take a chance even if Harlan was sitting right there, watching their every move.

He wanted to risk it.

Leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, Ransom smirked. “You want to start us off, Cabrera? Show me what you’ve got.”

Harlan tsked from behind him. “Ransom, come now. You have the black stones. Don’t go changing the rules,” he said good-naturedly, clearly enjoying the show.

Ransom rolled his eyes playfully, mouthing to Marta, “Wow. Traditional.” She stifled her giggles, and he grinned, feeling elation rise up like flames on dry leaves, licking towards the sky.

Placing his first stone, Ransom didn’t know whether to go easy on her or play his best, but that all went down the drain when Marta started placing her stones. The rhythm they created was unforgiving, and Ransom quickly realized that he would be overpowered.

It was also easy to see that Marta put little to no thought behind her moves despite beating him in almost every way. Before his next move, Ransom took a figurative step back to see the board from a new perspective.

It was beautiful.

Marta had been creating a pattern of stones, filling the board with images from negative space and dark shapes that conquered sight. He shouldn’t have expected anything less. She won easily, smiling at him with a twinkle of mischief. His returning smile was fonder than he would’ve liked.

“Not so easy, is it?” Harlan spoke, shattering whatever had begun to take shape between them, though he seemed to regret it.

Ransom was determined to pick it back up. “I think I’d like a rematch. Would you like to switch stones?” Marta agreed, and the board was rearranged without getting up.

Marta started this time, in the middle, controversially. Ransom smiled, his hypothesis proving true with every move. He leaned back in his seat, stretching and flexing his arms above his head.

Marta’s eyes flitted between his arms and his chest, her eyes wide and her cheeks rosy. Adorable. She followed his movements until his stone was dropped on the board. Another controversial move. He would play her game but with his own twist.

Lazily, Ransom threw his ankle over his other knee, sitting lower in his seat and manspreading. Marta gulped, her eyes only resting on him for a moment before she took her turn. He couldn’t help but remark inwardly that she had amazing self-control. It might have also had something to do with his grandfather sitting three feet away.

The game continued on like that, Marta making a pretty design while trying not to check him out, and Ransom added his own pattern while carefully gauging her reactions to his teasing.

Although his flirting seemed to affect her , it didn’t have any real effect on their game. Even with his new strategy to make a design together, Marta was still winning the game of Go per those rules.

When they were finished, Marta had indeed won, but taking in her flushed features and the way she couldn’t take her eyes off him, Ransom felt he had at least won something .

Harlan laughed. “Well, that was some game! What a unique playstyle you both have. Complementary, if I may say.”

Ransom had the fleeting notion that Harlan had not been solely referring to the game of Go. He wasn’t quite sure, but it felt like… No, that couldn’t be it. There was no way, after everything, Harlan had changed his mind about him.

Harlan saw Ransom at his worst. He would never let him anywhere near Marta. There’s no way.

“Ransom, are you joining us for lunch? I believe Fran prepared a fruit salad along with burgers and hotdogs from the grill. Reminds you of the Fourth of July, huh?” Marta smiled brightly, sharing a memory through her eyes.

Ransom knew what she was trying to say, surprised she remembered the moment they shared. Surprised she spoke so fondly of it. He was really getting somewhere.

Smiling back at her, Ransoms said, “It really does.”

He almost forgot that Harlan was still in the room until he spoke, his voice lilted and mysteriously knowing. “Well, hop to it! We don’t want Fran’s hard work to go cold.”

Marta and Ransom shared a look before they followed Harlan down the stairs to the dining room. Despite Fran knowing that Ransom would be there, the table was only set with two places. Resigning himself to eat in the kitchen, Harlan was about to make his plate when Harlan called out to Fran.

“If you don’t mind, Fran, I’d like to take my lunch in my office. Would you care to join me? You must be working very hard.”

When Fran walked into the room, Ransom caught her looking between him and Marta before turning to Harlan with a giddy question in her eyes. There it was. A slight nod from Harlan and a shining smile on Fran’s face. Ransom knew exactly what was happening.

Two people he had once hated most in his life were trying to set him up with a girl he had accidentally fallen in love with while trying to manipulate her for money.

Should he be surprised? They were doing a good job. Harlan had even gotten him to come over (though he wasn’t very difficult to convince). It was more meaningful to him because two of the people that had continuously seen him at his very worst had decided that he had changed enough to be worthy of Marta’s company and care.

That alone was a greater indicator of his progress than any nice word Marta had said to him. Sometimes it takes an outside perspective to see the difference because the people involved are too close to see the incremental growth.

As Fran led Harlan into his office, deliberately keeping the door open, Ransom turned to Marta and winked. “I guess it’s just us for lunch today.”

Marta wasn’t as shy as he had once thought. They sat down to eat across from one another with Marta kicking his feet playfully. It felt childish, but maybe that’s what they needed. To love each other like they were kids again.

Ransom could assume that Marta never really got to be a kid. That was the norm with most immigrant families, and based on Marta’s work ethic, he wouldn’t be surprised if their family was the same. Ransom, however, had spent his whole life being a child. He was pampered and spoiled all the way up until about a week ago when Harlan cut him off. Maybe he didn't need to be a kid again, but he definitely needed to love like one. To be loved like one.

Throughout lunch, he asked Marta questions about her likes and her interests. It was exactly what he tried to do at the party, but this time he really wanted to know the answers. Asking her about which of Harlan’s books was her favorite spurred on a heated debate between the two. Marta was under the impression that Drop in the Bucket was one of Harlan’s best works, but Ransom knew it wasn’t even in the top ten.

“C’mon, Marta. Are you kidding me? That one’s not nearly as good as The Badger and you know it.” They had finished their food ages ago, but Ransom couldn’t bring himself to take his leave.

Marta huffed. “We can have differing opinions, you know. There isn’t a ranking of all of Harlan’s works. They all have good qualities that made them the bestsellers that they are.”

Ransom leaned forward on his forearms to grin challengingly. “Why don’t we ask the man himself? Surely his favorite pieces will be the end-all-be-all ranking.”

“Fine.” Marta crossed her arms in front of her chest before giving Ransom a fond smile. “Hey, Harlan! We have a question for you.”

Something that sounded quite like two people falling came from Harlan’s study before a pair of hands shoved Harlan into the dining room and slammed the door behind him. Ransom gave Harlan a look, raising his eyebrow with a teasing smile. Harlan frowned at him playfully in return, daring him to say something.

“Yes, Marta, my dear. What is your question?”

Marta gave Ransom a smug look before turning back to Harlan and saying, “Could you give us a ranking of each of your books from your favorite to your least favorite?”

That was, evidently, not the right idea because they spent the next hour and a half listening to Harlan go on about all of his books, taking in each factor before he made a decision. He took into account how much fun he had while writing, the amount of money each book made, which books got the most movie offers, and so on. Marta seemed to be listening intently, but Ransom couldn’t figure out whether she was faking her interest. As much as he loved his grandfather’s books, he never wanted to hear them talked about in this much detail ever again.

Once Ransom couldn’t take it anymore, he stood up from the dining table with the most disappointed sigh he could muster. “Sorry to interrupt, Granddad, but I really need to get going. I’m thinking of starting my own career, and I have a lot of work to do. I’ll come around again soon.”

Harlan smiled at him knowingly. “Ah, that’s alright dear boy. I’m sure we can continue this conversation the next time you come over.” Ransom rolled his eyes, walking over to give him a big hug. “Marta, would you mind walking Ransom out to his car?”

Marta nodded, ambling to the door beside Ransom. Neither said a word until they were fully outside, Marta breaking the silence to say, “I should probably give you my phone number. We’ve hung out so much, but Harlan’s the only way for either of us to get in contact.”

Ransom gave her an almost blinding smile before pulling out his cellphone to add her as a contact. He sent her a quick text so that she would have his number before hopping into the driver’s seat of his beamer. Rolling down the window, he leaned on his arm and stuck his head out before smiling at her. “I had a lot of fun with you today, Marta. Thank you.”

Marta blushed prettily before stepping closer and smiling. “I had fun too. Ransom?”

“Yes?” He replied, eyes never leaving hers for fear he would miss something important.

“How would you like to come over to my place for dinner? Is tomorrow okay with you?”

He grinned. “I would love to, but you might want to prepare your mother first. I still don’t think she likes me.” Ransom pulled away in his car, calling to her, “Text me the details!”

***

Ransom was panicking. Mrs. Cabrera already didn’t like him, but now he had to spend a whole dinner with both her and Marta’s little sister? He needed to dress as nice as possible. He was pulling out all the sweater stops. It had to be something that he looked really good in but wasn’t so raunchy that Mrs. Cabrera would kick him out.

After getting dressed, he spent a lot of time staring at himself in the mirror trying to hype himself up, only succeeding in warping his reflection until it didn’t look as good as he thought it did. He changed clothes for a second time, avoiding the mirror altogether, and headed to the kitchen.

Growing up, Linda had drilled it into him that when you visit someone’s home, you bring them a gift. If you’re going for dinner, you bring either an appetizer or dessert. Since Ransom still had a few hours left until he needed to be at Marta’s house, he decided an appetizer and a dessert couldn’t hurt.

Soon enough, he was finished with time to spare, two piping hot dishes cradled in his arms. Quickly, Ransom hopped into his beamer, gingerly placing his hard work in the passenger seat and securing them with the seatbelt before he headed off. It would go well. It had to.

Pulling up to Marta’s house, Ransom parked his car a little ways away so as to not block the road and cause any trouble for their family. Keeping his food close to his chest, he walked up to the door and raised one fist to knock, surprised when the door swung open without him having touched it.

“Wow. You’re early. What are you, desperate? Y’know I used to think you were some suave guy, but now I’m realizing- Oh, wow! Did you bring food! What is it, can I see?”

Ransom just stood in shock as Alice talked his ear off and invaded his personal space to poke at the food in his arms. Polite! Be polite, Ransom! Okay, here goes.

“Yeah, I uh… brought an appetizer? And some dessert, also. Do you like cheesecake? I made this one myself so-”

“Cheesecake?” Alice screeched, jumping up and down. “Marta you better invite this man inside before I eat this entire cheesecake before dinner!”

Immediately, Marta was at the door, shoving Alice away with her hip not-so-subtly. “Hi, Ransom! Thank you so much for coming. You know you didn’t have to bring anything, right?”

Ransoms shrugged with a soft smile, his shoulders rolling back finally. “Yeah, I know. I figured it’s the least I could do. Your sister sure seems excited about it.”

Marta giggled, rolling her eyes. “Cheesecake is like… her favorite food ever. We’re going to need to hide it from her if any of us want to try a piece by the end of the night.”

Ransom laughed. It felt surreal to laugh with Marta when about a month ago he wouldn’t even give her the time of day. Thinking back on everything, Ransom and Marta stared at each other fondly until Mrs. Cabrera interrupted them.

“Mija, close the door, you’re letting all the bugs in.”

Ransom blushed, rubbing the back of his neck before gesturing inside, following Marta when she headed to the dining room. He set out his appetizer on the table before walking into the kitchen.

“Hello, ma’am. I hope you’ve been doing well since I last saw you,” Ransom put on his best most polite voice to address Mrs. Cabrera. She simply looked at him and huffed before nodding. He continued. “Do you have a special hiding place for this dessert? I heard from Alice that cheesecake is her favorite, and I’d like to save a piece or two for you and Marta.”

Mrs. Cabrera chuckled lightly, relaxing slightly and taking the cake gently from his hands. “Yes, we do have a hiding spot. We’ve used it for years, and Alice still hasn’t found it to this day. Thank you, Ransom. You didn’t have to bring us a dessert.”

At that, Ransom winced and Mrs. Cabrera’s eyes narrowed. “Well, you see… I also brought an appetizer? It’s my grandfather’s recipe for black bean dip, and I wanted to share it with you. Especially since he and Marta are so close.”

Mrs. Cabrera softened, and she nodded before putting back up a displeased expression. “Yes, well, I suppose Marta will be grateful for that. Now, help me set the table, would you?”

Marta walked in then, shaking her head. “Mama, come now. Don’t make him work. He’s our guest.”

“He’s your guest, mija. I can make him work all I want. How about you make yourself useful and help him out, huh?”

Marta sighed and nodded, gesturing for Ransom to follow with the plates. They worked silently around the dining table, Marta setting down placemats and napkins while Ransom followed with plates and silverware. Once they were finished, Ransom brought the dip to the living room while Marta grabbed the tortilla chips, and they sat on the couch together.

“I’m sorry about my-”

“I love your fam-”

They spoke at the same time, laughing lightly. Ransom knew the polite thing to do would be to offer for Marta to speak first, but he felt he knew what she was going to say, and he didn’t agree.

“Your family is so great Marta. Even if it sometimes seems that your mother doesn’t like me very much, I think I’m growing on her. And I know this is a little depressing to say, but I don’t think I ever grew on my own mother. She definitely only tolerates me. It is really nice to be around a real family like this. Thank you for inviting me, Marta.”

Marta gaped, her eyes turning sad. “Of course, Ransom. I love having you over. I’m pretty sure Alice is obsessed with you, and mama definitely likes you more than she lets on. We may have started off on the wrong foot, Ransom, but I really care about you. You deserve a better family than the one you were born into.”

Ransom could’ve cried right there, but he didn’t. He shoved a chip into his mouth and pretended like that statement didn’t mean more to him than Marta ever knew.

Almost as if Mrs. Cabrera and Alice knew they were having a bit of a moment, they walked into the living room at the same time and took their seats, digging into Ransom’s dip.

“Mmm! Ransom, this is so good! Are you like a chef or something? I bet you could be a chef. You know, Marta told me all about that breakfast you made for her the other day. You should totally stay over and make us breakfast!”

Mrs. Cabrera smacked her daughter on the arm before smiling at him. “It is very good. Make sure to tell Mr. Thrombey that he’s created a very good appetizer.”

Ransom smiled at her and nodded. “I will.” He turned to Alice and grinned before replying to her. “So, Alice. What was that you were saying about Marta and my breakfast feast?”

Alice’s smile grew exponentially, recognizing the mischievous glint in Ransom’s eye and matching it. “Oh, you know… Just that you’re the best cook she’s ever met and that she hasn’t stopped thinking about that breakfast since she had it. You really must leave an impression on a girl, huh?”

Ransom blushed at that comment, but he didn’t falter. “I could always come around early in the morning once Marta has already left for work and cook breakfast just for you guys.” He looked around conspiratorially for a moment before turning to stage whisper directly to Alice, “I’ll give you my number before I leave, and you just let me know when she’s gone. I’ll be right over.”

Alice cackled while Marta pushed Ransom lightly while he chuckled.

“Quick, mama! We need to eat so that Ransom can leave and I can get his number!” Alice bounced in her seat before rushing to the dining room, dragging an exasperated Mrs. Cabrera behind her.

Marta turned to Ransom with a smirk. “Oh, you are so going to regret that.”

Ransom leaned back onto the armrest of the couch and grinned. “Is that a threat?”

“I don’t need to threaten you. You’ll understand what I mean once that girl gets your number. You’re never going to sleep again, and I will laugh.”

Hearing the challenge in her words, Ransom stood up from the couch and stretched. “Come on. You heard the girl, Marta. We need to eat quickly! I’ve got a breakfast to plan.”

Marta rolled her eyes good-naturedly, following behind him with a light giggle.

Once they were all seated, Mrs. Cabrera blessed their food before letting everyone serve themselves. She waited until Ransom had a bite of food in his mouth before she asked him a question.

“So, Ransom. Tell us about your family.”

Ransom looked up in shock, his cheeks full of food as if he had forgotten he was in the company of other people. People that he was trying to impress. He sat up straighter and chewed his food with more manners before swallowing to answer. “Oh. Well, I guess you could say I’m the closest to my grandfather. We fell out a little while ago, but I think we’re back on good terms now. I’m not very close to anyone else in my family.”

Mrs. Cabrer’s eyes widened while Marta looked down at the table sadly, having known all this already. “What about your parents? Surely you’re close to them.”

Ransom winced, letting out a pained laugh as he pushed his food around his plate. “Not really. My mom is more focused on her company than me, and my dad is sort of… How do I say this? He’s a giant asshole that has cheated on my mother at least three times without her knowledge. I may have been pampered my whole life, but I think I learned that being showered with whatever I wanted isn’t the same as being loved.”

Something seemed to settle in Mrs. Cabrera’s expression, and she quickly changed the subject. “Eat up, Ransom. You might not be skinny, but protein helps build those muscles. Make sure you save room for dessert, though. I want to try some of that delicious cake you brought us.”

Ransom watched Alice shift anxiously out of the corner of his eye and he held back a smile. Maybe that hiding place was not as secret as Mrs. Cabrera thought.

The rest of dinner continued smoothly as the Cabrera family piled question upon well-meaning question onto him. They asked about his interests, his plans for the future, his favorite memories of his grandfather, and where he learned to cook so well. Ransom answered their questions with a wide smile, never getting the chance to take another bite of his food.

Noticing this, Marta shifted the conversation to Alice, asking her about school with a wink to Ransom. He smiled gratefully, eating as quickly as he could before he inevitably got asked another question.

Once they were all adequately stuffed, Mrs. Cabrera left for the kitchen, returning with Ransom’s cheesecake. As soon as she set it down, he noticed that it was about an inch shorter than he remembered it being. He met Alice’s eye and winked, making a zipping motion across his mouth. She grinned at him.

“Oh, boy! I sure am excited for this cheesecake. I’m sure it’s absolutely delicious!”

Ransom couldn’t help it. He laughed out loud. He laughed probably the hardest he has laughed in years. By the time he looked up again, Mrs. Cabrera was smiling at him warmly while Alice stared at him as if to say ‘Don’t blow this for me!’ . He nodded at her, still chuckling before he turned to Marta. 

She looked surprised with a bright blush rising high onto her cheeks and warming the tips of her ears. He smiled at her, feeling his heart skip a little when she smiled back. They seemed to be so lost in each other that neither noticed when Mrs. Cabrera placed a plate in front of them. 

Ransom only snapped out of his daze when Alice attempted to take a fork to his piece. He immediately whipped around to face her, staring her down as her fork dipped closer and closer to his cake. He narrowed his eyes, frowning when she only narrowed hers back. He liked to imagine that they were having a full conversation.

You put your fork in my cake, and I’ll tell your mother how much you ate before this.

Just try it. I know you don’t have the guts.

Move another inch, and I won’t even give you my number.

Funnily enough, Alice gasped, and pulled her fork away pouting. “Fine, you got me. Just eat your cake.”

Ransom grinned, reaching over to ruffle her hair before taking a big bite of his own.

Marta groaned. “I can already tell you two are going to be insufferable.”

***

After helping Mrs. Cabrera clean the plates and the kitchen, they all moved out to the foyer. Ransom quickly put his number in Alice’s phone before giving Mrs. Cabrera a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you so much for having me over. Ma’am, if you ever don’t feel like cooking, just let me know I’ll be happy to bring over some dinner for you all.”

Mrs. Cabrera shook her head. “Oh, nonsense. If you’re going to bring over dinner, you will be sitting here and eating it with us. It’s been a joy to have you over. Please come again soon.” She looked between Marta and Ransom before sharing a look with Alice and continuing, “Marta, will you please walk Ransom out to his car?”

Marta nodded, not seeing the obvious ulterior motives that Ransom picked out easily. He just winked at Alice and blew another kiss to Mrs. Cabrera before following Marta out, not even flinching when Alice slammed the door behind him with a giggle.

Once they made it to Ransom’s beamer, he knew he had to say something. After the night they just had, he couldn’t leave without expressing his gratitude to Marta.

“I had a really good night with you and your family. I don’t think I can ever express how grateful I am for you making me feel so welcome in your home.”

Marta blushed. “My mom wasn’t lying. We would love to have you over more.” She thought for a moment, shifting her gaze to the street before turning back to him with a shy smile. “ I would really like you to come over more.”

Ransom stuttered, warmth filling his cheeks. “Oh, you- Right, yeah. I kind of- I also, I mean I think you already know, but-”

Marta giggled, leaning up to cut him off with a soft kiss to his lips, placing one hand on his shoulder to pull him closer. He melted closer kissing her back lightly, stopping when she pulled away.

“Goodnight, Ransom. I’ll see you soon.”

He watched her walk back into her house, only looking away when the door closed delicately behind her. God, he was so whipped. He sat down in the driver’s seat and pulled his seatbelt on, not able to stop the wide, beaming smile from growing until it almost covered his face.

He’s still got it.