Steaks and Memories

*Sandra* 

Sophia was hungry so I told Jay we were ready to eat some dinner. He gave me some options. “Seafood, fried foods, steak dinners?” He shrugged, “Anything you would like Sunshine.” Sophia said looking over to me in the back of the car. “Steak sounds good. Let’s do steak. I know it won't have the same flavor as my Chef’s, but it will have to do.” Jay smiled and shook his head in agreement. We drove for a while, and I watched out the window. Talking to Joseph helped me some, but I could tell he wasn’t himself. I wanted to know what happened with the seamstress. “Have you talked to Smoke?” I asked Jay as we drove to the restaurant. He shook his head no. It frustrated me that I was out here doing all this wedding shopping and Joseph was dealing with God knows what without me. “After dinner, what else do we need to shop for?” I asked Sophia, knowing she wouldn't easily let me out of any plans she had. She tilted her head, confused by my question. “You should be excited Sunshine... Happy for your marriage.” Her words burned a little. I was excited. I couldn’t wait to be his wife. I couldn’t wait to wear that ring; it was the title that frightened me. The queen of the Brotherhood. I sucked in too much air and choked up a bit. “I am excited, I was just unsure of the rest of the shopping.” I shrugged and looked up towards Jay. He was looking right at me in the mirror on the sun visor.  

Jay’s gaze in the mirror felt heavy, like he was trying to understand the thoughts I wasn’t voicing. Sophia, ever the optimist, started listing shops with enthusiasm, rattling off venues for jewelry, shoes, and even a potential boutique for last-minute accessories. I nodded along, though my mind wandered back to Joseph and the weight he carried. The tension in my chest eased slightly as Sophia leaned over to take my hand with a reassuring smile, grounding me in the moment. Jay turned his attention back to the road, his calm presence a steadying force. The promise of a warm steak dinner and Sophia’s layered chatter about bridal veils began to distract me from the growing unease in the pit of my stomach. Whatever storm Joseph was navigating, I trusted him to handle it for now, and I tried to focus on the task at hand—bringing our wedding vision to life.

As the car slowed to a stop outside the restaurant, the warm glow of its inviting lights spilled across the pavement, and I felt a flicker of relief at the prospect of a hearty meal. Jay stepped out first, scanning the surroundings with the precision of someone who never let his guard down, while Seven opened the door for Sophia and me with a courteous nod. The air smelled faintly of charred wood and spices, a promising prelude to the steak dinner awaiting us. Inside, the low hum of conversation and the soft clink of glasses created an ambient cocoon, and for a moment, the weight of the day’s lingering unease seemed to dissipate. As we settled into our seats, Sophia eagerly opened her menu, her excitement contagious as she rattled off suggestions. Jay, ever watchful, glanced around the room in his quiet, deliberate way, while I let the rhythm of their energy pull me into the present, reminding myself that these moments of relative calm were precious. Somewhere, I knew Joseph was untangling the threads of the day’s mysteries, but here, surrounded by the warmth and familiarity of my chosen family, I allowed myself the comfort of temporary reprieve. The nagging of what was unknown still quietly whispering in my mind.  

The dinner unfolded with an unexpected ease, the anticipation of steak and lighthearted conversation gradually replacing the tension that shadowed the day. Amid Sophia's playful debates about side dishes and Jay's ever-alert gaze, I found myself musing over the quiet strength each person brought to our unusual family. The air hummed with the warmth of shared familiarity, a testament to the bonds we had carefully forged despite the chaos that often defined our lives. As the waiter arrived to take our orders, Sophia’s enthusiasm spilled over, her laughter ringing like a melody against the rich wood-paneled walls. I glanced at Jay, whose steady presence behind his protective vigilance provided a grounding reminder: we were safe, at least for now. Even though the unseen threads of Joseph’s tangled world stirred somewhere in the distance, the simple act of choosing meals and sharing smiles felt like defiance, a small but meaningful reclaiming of peace in a world that constantly threatened to unsettle it. It didn't take long to receive the food, and everyone starving, immediately started to eat. The food was delicious, but I still believed Henry could have made it better. Sophia held up her glass of wine to make a toast and all of us stopped eating holding our glasses up as well. “To Sunshine, the only woman I have ever seen make Smoke weak and stronger at the same time. He truly has won the lottery here, mi amiga!” I smiled, reaching over to squeeze her hand.  

Her face went calm, and I knew she was going to drop some knowledge on me. It was the look my father would get when he really wanted me to pay attention to his advice. She placed her fork down, folding her hands as though preparing to unpack something she didn't share with many people. “Sunshine, do you know what my wedding day was like?” she began, her voice light but tinged with something deeper. I shook my head, leaning in, intrigued. “It was... magical,” she said, her smile growing wider yet faraway. “We got married outside, beneath this enormous oak tree. Hector said it reminded him of something strong and timeless, like how he wanted us to be.” Her gaze drifted past me, as though she could almost see that day playing out like an old film reel. “The sun was shining, but not in an overwhelming way—it was soft, golden. And the breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers. I remember my dress catching in the wind, and Hector teasing me about looking like I’d been swept up in a fairy tale.” She shook her head slightly, “We didn’t have much money then, but I would have followed him anywhere.” Sophia laughed quietly, shaking her head. “And, for a little while, I believed him, about the fairytale. We danced barefoot on the grass because he said shoes were overrated. He stepped on my toes a few times, but I didn’t care. Everyone laughed, especially his abuela, who said our clumsy waltz was the happiest thing she’d seen since her own wedding.” 

Her hands fidgeted slightly, brushing against her napkin, as she added, “I still remember the vows he made. He promised to protect me, to build a life where we could be free to dream and love without fear. Back then, I knew it was the start of something unshakeable.” Her voice softened, growing almost imperceptible over the hum of the restaurant. “But fairy tales don’t come with warnings, do they? They don’t tell you how quickly the perfect day can drift away—not because you stop loving each other, but because life sometimes throws storms you don’t see coming.” Sophia took a deep breath, her smile now faint but resolute. “I hold on to that day, though—the way we laughed, danced, and dreamed. It’s a reminder of what we were at our best, through all the bad times. Anytime I felt like I wanted to run away. The craziness of the Brotherhood. Him becoming leader so quickly. The fear of losing him. The fear in general. I look back to that day, and then I look at the man standing in front of me, and I realize I love him more now than I did then, and querida, back then I thought he hung the moon.” 

I watched as she glanced at her plate, her eyes blinking away the glimmer of tears. “But enough about us,” she said suddenly, her voice lighter. “Let’s focus on dessert. I hear the chocolate cake here is to die for.” Just like that, the conversation shifted, leaving the air tinged with both sweetness and the echo of memories. 

As the laughter over Sophia’s memories faded into the ambient hum of the restaurant, I found myself lost in thought, reflecting on the intricate ways life binds us, not with fairy tales but with threads of resilience and shared moments that endure. Sophia had reminded me that even in the chaos, there is beauty in the connections we forge—connections that don’t just weather storms but find strength in them. I glanced around the table at the faces that had become my family, each one carrying a story that intertwined with mine. Jay, ever vigilant even during quiet moments; Seven, with pride in his careful decisions; and Sophia, whose wisdom wrapped itself around her optimism, creating a balance that softened the edges of the world. It struck me that this dinner wasn’t just a pause between tasks but a celebration of the fragile yet fierce bonds that held the brotherhood together, a testament to the love and trust they had carefully cultivated amidst the chaos. Sophia’s hand reached out to pour another glass of wine, her laughter filling the air once again, I realized that this is exactly where I am meant to be. I am meant to marry Joseph, the leader of the Brotherhood, I am meant to be his queen.