Chapter 58: I can handle this.

Chapter 58: Chapter 58: I can handle this.?

(This week episodes...starts!)

[Edward POV]

After getting home from the spa, I made sure to contact Jenna and ask her about her purpose for sending me over there. But in the short conversation we had, I realised that she had no idea about the place and hadn't sent me over there with malicious purposes.

Unfortunately, my decision to contact her had finally given her my phone number and allowed her to save my contact information on her phone.

[3rd Person POV]

In Elsa's house. The room was small, cramped, with a bed for three people, as Elsa stayed with two of her other sisters in the same room. Flowery wallpapers could be seen on the walls, and clothes and toys were thrown everywhere on the floor.

"SHHhh-" Elsa shushed her 7 and 9 year old sisters after Jenna's phone rang.

"He's really calling me!" Jenna squealed in excitement with her best friend while sitting on the bed together before she cleared her throat, put on an act that she didn't care about Ed, and answered the call.

"Hello?" Jenna said.

"Hi. Jenna, I need to ask you something." Edward said on the other side of the line. Jenna removed the phone from her ear, squealed in excitement slowly before answering the question carefully, "What do you want to ask?"

"It's about your gift."

"Oh." The question clearly disappointed Jenna, who exclaimed in a flat tone. When Edward contacted Jacob to ask Elsa about her contact information, she really thought that he had done so to ask her out. But the questions Edward was asking her made her feel like she had done something wrong by giving him the present.

...

[Edward POV]

While holding my iPhone in my ear, I walked into my house after waving goodbye to Haley and Abby.

"Jenna. Please ask your mom about the spa ticket, and whether I should reimburse her for it. I'm sure you took the ticket without asking her, right? Also, I'm not mad at you. Don't cry." I reassured Jenna as I could hear her voice becoming shaky, and she choked up a few times.

Jenna: "Mm-hmm... Okay. I will ask her. But don't worry. I won't ask you to reimburse it, as I was the one who took it in the first place."

"Don't worry. I can pay for it. I'm rich now. Anyway, I really enjoyed the gift. I have muscle pain today, and it all went away after the spa session." I said it in a calm manner while changing the subject so as not to make the girl cry.

"Text me when you have the conversation with your mom, okay?" I said to end the call.

"Really? I can text you?" She asked in disbelief and anticipation.

"Yeah. But if you don't control yourself, I will block your number. Deal?"

"Deal!"

I could hear her squeal with someone, whom I presumed was Elsa, on the other side of the line. I said my goodbyes and ended the call as I entered the house.

A sudden nostalgic familiarity hit me the moment I opened the door. A hot Latina woman was standing by the door to welcome me back into the house as she waited for me to walk in.

"Aunt Camilla." I muttered as I struggled to understand her presence. Wearing a flowery apron on top of her regular clothes– a low-cut tank top and tight jeans, she tied up her hair into a ponytail so as not to let it disturb her cooking.

"Your dad invited me in. How are you, Ed? Did you have fun in school today?" Aunt Camilla asked with a bright smile, as she was incredibly happy to see her nephew again.

"School is fine. I will enter the academic decathlon though, so I have that to look forward to." I said as I gave my aunt a light hug before going upstairs. "I'm going to freshen up."

Aunt Camilla nodded her head to show she heard me, but she didn't know I could hear what she was saying next.

"So. He is a nerd."

I stumbled in my step and almost fell down after I heard that.

She turned towards me and said, "Okay. Today, I'm going to be making Ropa Vieja. A traditional Cuban food. The food of your ancestors..."

"Ed. Phil is inviting you to his house tomorrow to play Mario Kart." Dad interjected as he walked out of the toilet.

I narrowed my eyes as I looked at both my aunt and dad suspiciously. "You guys hang out...just the two of you...in an empty house?" I said in a teasing voice.

"Ed." Dad stopped me immediately, as he knew where I was going with this. "She's your aunt."

I shrugged playfully and said with a mischievous smile, "Hey, I'm not judging."

"What is it? What is he saying?" Aunt Camilla asked dad as she was confused by our inside joke.

"Nothing much. Ropa Vieja huh. I haven't eaten it for years."

"Is the dish the one that is called Old Clothes in Cuba?" I asked in curiosity while standing in the middle of the stairs.

"Yeah. They are." Dad replied.

It has been a while since someone other than me has used the kitchen inside my house. As I entered my room, I immediately went to take a shower, and then I opened up my laptop to do something before going down to the kitchen.

"I'm aware that this type of establishment does not record patrons, but I still need to verify it." I said as I hacked into the spa's system.

"Hmm..I can't access their camera... I guess I need to use a trick."

First, I checked the employee's email and found out who was the manager in the establishment. After that, I searched for the remote owner of the spa and hacked into his email.

"Now, I will send an email from the owner to the manager." I muttered as I studied the owner's way of talking in an email to avoid the suspicions.

"I need to apply urgency, otherwise, the manager wouldn't believe me."

I sent an email as the owner of the business, saying that the FBI was looking into one of our VIP customers and that the spa needed to delete a month's worth of CCTV footage to help the VIP customer and themselves.

"Adding that the FBI is near the building is good, but I'm still not sure that the manager will destroy the footage." I muttered in concern.

...

[3rd Person POV]

A private investigator was exhilarated when he followed the trail of his mission objective to a suspicious spa facility.

"I just need to get the CCTV footage, and I can get the reward from the agency." The slimy, middle aged man in a worn-out jacket muttered to himself.

"Sorry kid. Nothing personal." He muttered as he captured a few photos of the spa with his camera.

At this time, one of the security guards noticed the camera, and he alerted the manager immediately.

"What- Seriously?" The male middle aged manager exclaimed in shock as he had just read the email from the 'owner' at this moment.

"Delete all of our customer list, and the CCTV footage for a month. NOW!" The manager barked orders to his workers before he formatted the spa computer system to destroy all of their data from the past month.

The security guard kept his eyes on the private investigator when he got out of his car and walked into the building.

"WHAT?! NO FOOTAGE!?" The private investigator was flabbergasted when he heard it.

"The one with the longest reply thread."

"Ah, this one. [What is the problem with the world nowadays? How could you guys think that this song is great? It's just a boy trying too hard to be famous. He'd be better off playing Disney songs, Peter Pan in Wonderland, or something a kid would play instead of this sh*t.] This comment?"

"Yup." I replied, unbothered by the comment from the troll who only wanted someone to respond to him and make people mad.

"What song did you make?" Taylor asked, intrigued by the situation. "Did you really make a song?"

"I could do that. But I made a Peter Pan song instead." I replied while I strummed the guitar to create a soft melody. "Do you want to hear it?"

"I do." Taylor said hurriedly.

...

" I heard you sing. Did you write another song?" Dad asked while we were waiting for my aunt to finish serving dinner at the dining table. I offered to help her, but she asked both of my dad and I to wait instead.

"Yeah. I was video calling Taylor and sang her the song with her guitar gift." I explained.

"IT'S READY!" My aunt said while putting the ceramic pot in the middle of the table. She opened up the lid, and the peppery smell of the spices and meat filled the kitchen.

"Damn, it looks good." I muttered as I saw it.

"Yeah. I don't have a lot of ingredients, so I had to do it...my style." Aunt Camilla said with a shy smile.

"It's okay. I'm sure it'll taste great." I said as I scooped the meat onto my plate, which was half-filled with piping hot white rice. Aunt Camilla sat directly in front of me, smiling softly while looking forward to seeing my reaction to the food of our people.

While I was mixing the rice with the dish using a spoon, I asked her, "What ingredient is missing?"

"Well, the bell pepper. I did find a substitute for them though." Aunt Camilla recounted her memory of the farmer's market, where she found a shrivelled looking pepper and thought it could replace the bell pepper.

"I see. That's great." I said as I took a spoonful of the rice and meat. My dad did the same thing as I did, and both of us froze after chewing the food.

With a forced smile, I put the spoon down and asked after swallowing it, "What pepper did you use exactly to replace the bell pepper?"

"Hmm...I don't remember... the vendor said it's primo pepper."

" I see... The pepper that is ranked number 4 on the Schoville scale." I said calmly while standing up. My aunt was confused and asked, "Is it bad?"

"Camilla. It's good. But..." My dad also stood up a second after I did, his face becoming as red as a tomato.

"It's TOO SPICY!" I couldn't keep my composure anymore and ran to the fridge.

"AHH!" Dad screamed as his saliva felt like melted magma in his mouth. He went to the kitchen sink and started to rinse his mouth under running water. I gulped the big jug of milk straight from the canister to wash away the spiciness, but the sensation was like a home squatter that wouldn't leave even after you gave them a warning.

Aunt Camilla's eyes shifted to the pot as a result of our reaction. "Americans. You can't handle the spice as well as Cuban people could." Then, she took a spoonful of the dish to taste it.

"See...it's good." Aunt Camila said smugly before her smile froze, and her face started to burn up.

"I...We latina can...Handle this...NO I CAN'T!" She said as she ran towards the fridge and grabbed the milk from my hand.

"HEY!" I exclaimed as I saw her gulp the milk greedily, spilling it all around her mouth, letting it drip onto her neck and enter her cleavage.

If I wasn't suffering from the spiciness, I would've enjoyed the scene. Too bad the sensation in my mouth was like someone had lit up a fire inside of it.

I grabbed a cake in the fridge and started to eat it to fight the spiciness with sweetness.

After half an hour, finally all of us managed to beat the spicy flavour of the dish. The three of us were sitting on the floor with our backs against the kitchen wall, visibly sweating from our struggle to break free of the food influence.

"What should we do now?" Aunt Camilla asked while feeling guilty that she had put us in this predicament.

"Why don't we go to a Cuban restaurant and eat there?" I suggested.

"Let's do that." Dad said in a tired voice.

"What should I do with the dish?" Aunt Camilla asked. "Should I throw it away?"

"No no. You've worked hard on that. Just put it in the fridge." I said while hatching a scheme in my mind to invite the people I don't like into my house to taste the food.

"He's daydreaming again. I'm sure he's planning some evil scheme, so I'm going to go change out of my wet clothes. Camilla, do you have something else to wear?" Dad asked after accurately guessing what I was doing.

"..No. I think it's fine..It'll dry up soon." Aunt Camilla said not to trouble us anymore.

"No, Aunt Camilla. It's milk, so when it dried up, you'd smell bad. Why don't you go take a shower? I have some clothes in my room that I made for my friend, so you can just pick one."

"No. Ed-"

"Aunt Camilla. We're family, right?" I said with a sincere smile to show her that she wasn't bothering us. She stopped resisting and said, "Okay. Since you offered."

"Good. You can change in my room. I'll lay out a few clothes on my bed, so you can just pick one from them. Oh...but I don't have any...underwear though." I said while scratching my cheek.

"It's okay. I don't wear them anyway." Aunt Camilla replied, causing my eyes to go straight to her wet chest.

"Ed-" Dad called me out softly to snap me back to reality.

While clearing my throat, I said, "That's...okay. I'll call the restaurant to ask if they have an empty table."

It took us only 15 minutes to get ready. Aunt Camilla picked a daring outfit, a red, one piece mini dress with a plunged chest cut as she picked the one I made for Abby.

"Nothing else fits." She said this while covering her popped out chest in embarrassment. We had an enjoyable dinner where Aunt Camila shared a few embarrassing stories about Dad while he was in Cuba, and shared a few details of her life.

Aunt Camila was 33 years old this year, and she had never been married. She had no education, and was working on the family's business until now.

"What is the family business exactly?" I asked, causing both my aunt and my dad to freeze.

"No- Ed, Are you really entering the decathlon?" Dad replied.

"Changing the subject, I see.." I said with narrowed eyes, causing both of them to have cold sweats. I decided not to torture them and let the topic go, making both of them let out a sigh in relief.

"I better go now." Aunt Camila said after we got home from the restaurant.

"Nonsense. It's almost midnight. Just stay here." I said and pulled her hand into the house.

"But-"

"Dad will sleep on the couch, so you can just sleep in his room." I said.

"Why me?" Dad muttered sadly.

I turned to him and said, "You want my aunt to sleep on the couch? Or better yet, sleeping in my room with me? I don't mind if she wants to-"

"Okay. I'll sleep on the couch." Dad spoke hurriedly. Aunt Camila and I laughed after seeing his reaction before she said, "You know. I won't mind if I sleep with you. You're my nephew."

"If I'm under 10 years old, that'll be fine. But I'm a teenager now, and you're really hot. Therefore we won't have the chance to do that anymore." I joked, earning a sincere chuckle from my aunt.