His Uncle

Fernando showed up half an hour late for lunch, as was his custom. He sat down across the table next to a coffee shop and got a cafecito. He looked Amanda up and down, as he always had.

"So what is it?" he asked. "I thought you didn't care for me much."

"Well, you know about my prognosis," you started.

"Yeah, did your parents tell you how badly I felt?" he asked. You nodded. "So, I've been thinking about Amanda. And what we're going to do when ... if ... I die. And I need to know she has someone to take care of her."

"What, you mean like emotionally?"

"More."

"Like, financially?" His eyes narrowed.

"Like ... as a husband."

"Oh. Ohhhhh," he said, smiling slyly. "I knew you couldn't take care of a girl this fine, boy, I knew it."

"No, that's not it ... " you started.

"It's partially it. You're one of ten candidates, Uncle Fernando," Amanda said evenly. "You down for two weeks?" It was the easiest decision Fernando had made all week.