by Blake, Remy
We pull up in front of the large brick house. Some would call this a mansion, but it’s one of the more modest homes in the neighborhood. Gramps and Gram aren’t ostentatious people. It’s hard to believe my father grew up with them as parents. They’re about as opposite as you can get. Dad likes anything that screams wealth and my grandparents couldn’t care less about appearances.
“Tank, where here.” I wake him as promised. His head pops up and he gets excited when he sees where we are. He loves spending time with my grandparents. “Gram will probably feed you something to make your stomach feel better, bud.” My grandmother loves to dote on Tank. I can imagine how awesome she’ll be when I have kids. A couple of dark haired kids, fluent in Spanish like their mother. The thought doesn’t scare me as it would’ve at one time. It only makes me smile. I’m not saying I’m ready to be a father any time soon, but the thought of having children is a lot more appealing now that I have Harper in my life.
I lead Tank to the door and Gram has it opened before we can get there.
“How’s my poor baby? Are you okay, Tank?” She steps back and we enter the foyer.
I smile at her obvious love for him. “He’s fine. Just a bit of a stomach bug I guess. They gave him some meds to settle his stomach and said he’ll probably take it easy for a day or two. I’m supposed to bring him back if he doesn’t seem better in a couple of days.”
She leans down and hugs him around his thick neck and removes his leash before handing it off to me. “I made a special bed for you to rest on. It’s near a window where the sun comes through. Follow me.” She straightens, slowly walking toward the living room with Tank ambling along at her heels. “Your grandfather is in his office,” she calls over her shoulder.
“Thanks, Gram.”
I stroll toward the back of their house my eyes taking in all the familiar items. The large, colorful landscape on the wall opposite the kitchen. The small table that’s tucked in a nook in the long hallway. There’s a small, primitive looking clay bowl on top of the dark wood. I remember making that for Mother’s Day when I was eight. The fact that I gave it to my grandmother instead of my mother speaks volumes.
As I approach Gramps’ office, I hear the sound of him typing on his computer. I pause, leaning against the door jamb. “Stop watching porn,” I joke.
Gramps laughs. “I save that for when your grandmother is asleep or out running errands. I don’t need the scolding she’d give me if she caught me.”
“Smart man.” I nod, stepping inside and move over to the bank of windows that look out over their picturesque backyard. “God, I had a lot of fun playing in this yard when I was a kid.”
“You sure did and now Tank is reaping the benefits of our talented landscaper.”
“He does love it here. Oh by the way, he’s got a stomach bug so go easy playing ball with him. The vet said he’ll probably be a bit sluggish for a day or two.”
“No worries. He can hang outside with me while I enjoy a cigar. We can skip ball today.”
“It’s getting cold out, Gramps. We’re at the end of November. What are you going to do when it’s too cold in the winter?”
“We’ll go down south and get away from the cold like we always do.”
It’s nice to see my grandfather enjoying his retirement. He worked hard his whole life to build the family business his own father started.
“I’m glad you stopped by. I wanted to talk to you after Thanksgiving, but I didn’t want to bother you. And now it’s over a week later. Time flies.”
“What’s up?”
“I know some of what we said might’ve been upsetting to you, but it was done out of love and genuine concern.”
“I know that, Gramps.”
“How are things going with Harper? Are the two of you still together?”
“We are. Everything is great. She told the dean that I didn’t need any more tutoring sessions. That should help us avoid crossing lines at school.”
“That’s a step in the right direction. Have you thought about attending another grad school? If you and Harper are serious about each other it would make sense. You don’t want her to be in jeopardy of losing her job for the next two years, do you?”
“It’s funny that you mention this. I have been thinking about other options and I’ve decided to apply to a bunch of local schools. I’m even going to apply to Georgetown which will make Dad’s head spin.” Georgetown is considered to be one of King University’s biggest competitors with their close proximity to one another. But King holds the coveted Ivy League label placing it a step above. With my father being an alumni, a large financial contributor and a close friend of the dean, he’s personally invested in King.
“Georgetown sounds like a great idea.” Gramps winks.
“Right? That might be my first choice for obvious reasons.”
* * *
When I get back on campus I text Harper. I need to tell her about Tank. She loves him too.
Me: Hey, hope your morning has gone well. I had to take Tank to the vet. He’s okay now. Stomach virus. Can’t wait to see you later. Let me know when you’re coming over.
Stepping from my Jeep, I grab my backpack. I’m heading toward King Koffee when I notice my father exiting with a cup in his hand.
“Dad?”
His head snaps in my direction and he shifts direction, striding my way. Everything about my dad is about business; even the purposeful way he walks. He never and I bet he doesn’t get lost in his thoughts unless they’re about business and crushing some poor unsuspecting prosecutor in the courtroom.
“Connor. Are you between classes?”
“Yes, I am. I was about to grab a coffee myself.” I don’t bother telling him how I had to miss my morning class because Tank is sick. He’d tell me I was a fool for putting my dog before school.
“You must need the extra caffeine for all those tutoring sessions.”
What’s that supposed to mean? And should I tell him that we’re no longer doing them?
Every remark my father makes has a purpose, but I can’t figure out what this one is.
“I’m doing much better in my Business Spanish class.”
“I’m glad to hear it. A little one on one attention from a beautiful professor can do wonders.”
What’s he getting at? And how does he know what Harper looks like?”
“What brings you to campus?” I might as well turn the conversation to him. Maybe it will end quicker this way.
“I had a meeting with Dean Billings and he told me some interesting things.” He sips his coffee staring at me over the top. He always has to be so fucking cryptic. Except when he’s scolding me for something. Then he has no problem saying what he needs to.
“Am I supposed to ask you what they are? I’m not sure what you’re looking for.”
“I’m not looking for anything. Just merely stating the facts. I need to return to the office. Enjoy your tutoring sessions.” His expression seems like gloating. But why would he be?
If he met with Billings, he knows I’m not meeting with Harper anymore. He must be setting me up to see if I’ll tell him.
“Dad if you met with the dean then you must know that we’ve stopped the tutoring. I don’t need it any longer. I met with Dean Billings myself.”
“I’m glad you’re doing better. Professor Martínez must be quite a teacher to get results so fast.”
I nod. “She is.” I’m tired of his games and I need to get my coffee if I want to make my next class. “I need to run.” I hook my thumb toward King Koffee. “Have a good afternoon.”
“You too, son.” He tips his head once and walks in the other direction. My feet are frozen in place as I think about our conversation. What was the purpose of him mentioning Harper so much? Does he know about us? No. He can’t possibly. I shake my head answering my own question.
* * *
THREE DAYS LATER
I stare down at my phone willing it to buzz with a message or ring with a
call, but it remains silent. Harper never answered my initial text or any of the five others I sent to make sure she’s okay, and when I called earlier her phone was off.
I swung by her office with no luck, and I’m at my wits end trying to work out where else I can go looking for.
Leaning my head back on my couch, I wrack my brain for any idea of where the hell she is, or why she’s disappeared. I have a horrible feeling in my gut that the answer is right in front of me, and I’m just too scared to admit it. Did she leave me? Or did someone make her leave?
I think of the few friends she’s mentioned when we’ve been together or that I’ve seen her with, and make the decision to make one of them talk to me. There’s no way they would be okay with knowing I haven’t heard from her in three days.
I check the time and figure I may be able to catch Sadie at the gym. Harper says she never misses a yoga lesson, and I know her usual class ends fairly soon.
I hold onto hope that if anyone would know anything it would be Sadie, and if she happens to tell me something I don’t want to hear, at least I can take my anger out on the bags for an hour or so.
When I arrive at the gym, it’s swimming with people. You would think winter meant people would start staying home, but sometimes people want to lose some weight before they pile it back on during the festivities.
I scan the room looking for a familiar face. I head to the yoga room praying to anyone that listens that Sadie is here.
With luck finally on my side, she’s in a serious conversation with her yoga instructor. Trying not to seem impatient, I wait by the door, hoping at some point she looks up and sees me.
It takes a good ten to fifteen minutes before Sadie’s gaze finds mine, and her eyes widen. She puts a hand up to the instructor and excuses herself before strutting my way.
“Connor? What are you doing here?”
I move us out of the walkway, and into a little alcove between rooms for a little more privacy. “I want to ask if you know where Harper is?”
A quick wave of sadness washes over her, but not fast enough for me not to notice.
“Did something happen?” I ask in a panic. “Is she okay?”
“Connor, there’s not much I can tell you.”
“Just tell me if she’s okay?” I press. “Surely you can tell me that.”
“Physically she’s fine.”
I run a frustrated hand through my hair. “Physically she’s fine,” I repeat in a huff. “What does that even mean. Where is she?”
“She went back home.”
The noise around us fades into silence as Sadie’s words sink in. “To California?”
She nods, regret all over her face.
“Why?”
“I swore I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Was it me?”
“No,” she quickly clarifies. “Just things out of her control.”
“But it has to do with me?”
Another quick nod follows and then she reaches for my arm. “I’m sorry I can’t say more, Connor. I would really love to. I want my friend back here more than ever, but just think really hard okay.” My face furrows in confusion. “Just think of all the reasons Harper would have to leave.”
Like a slot machine the conversations I’ve had in the last few days spin around in my head. Searching for the missing piece. Trying to find the jackpot.
Sadie gives me one more reassuring look, and it all finally clicks.
My father.
27
Harper
With the help of Cole, Sadie and the late addition of Miles, I managed to speak to Billings, pack up my apartment and get on a flight to San Diego in less than forty-eight hours.
The first part was the hardest. Having to deal with his self-righteous attitude and smug, know all expression had my blood beyond boiling.
In the small time I had been at King University that man was the bane of almost everyone’s existence. Unprofessional in every way possible, I couldn’t wait for the day that I heard someone took that fucker down.
As far as avoiding Connor on campus, that was a whole lot trickier. After ignoring his texts and phone calls, I decided powering down my phone and changing my number when I arrived home was probably the best plan.
Guilt along with need surged through me every time his name flashed across the screen. I was breaking his heart and trying to save it all at once, and nothing about it felt right and noble.
I don’t know how I managed to find myself once again self sacrificing for somebody else’s benefit, but this time the resentment didn’t come. Not like it had with Anthony and my family.
The heaviness that weighed on my shoulders earlier this year didn’t follow me when it came to leaving King for Connor. My heart ached, missing him, a pain I never felt over Anthony. But his future means more to me than my happiness.
It’s the ultimate sacrifice that I would do time and time and time again. That’s what you do for the ones you love.
You take the plunge when they can’t, you make the hard decisions when they won’t, and above all you love them despite everything around you telling you you shouldn’t,
I know the second Connor finds out he’ll come for me. I feel it deep in my soul that he is the one, and what we had was real. But until that time comes. Even if it doesn’t, I don’t hold any regrets. Not one single regret for falling for my student.
“Did you settle in okay?” Cruz asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“Thank you,” I tell him. “For being there. Again.”
“One day you’ll be able to return the favor.”
“No,” I say a little too quickly. “Wait. That came out wrong. I meant I don’t ever want you to feel this way. It hurts, Cruz.”
“It’s no biggie, Harps. Relax. This is home now.”
I lie down on the couch and stare absently at the television, my days now filled with endless amounts of uncertainty about what’s coming next. Naturally, Cruz said I could move in with him, but as far as a job, or working out how I’m going to pay off my debt, it’s all a blur.
“Do you want me to cook us dinner?” I ask Cruz, wanting to feel useful.
“No, mom is coming over with food,” he informs me. “I would rather you just sit on that couch and mope.”
I sit up, looking at him strangely. “That seems like really bad advice.”
“Hear me out.” He takes a seat next to me, putting my legs on his lap. “When Anthony bailed, you didn’t take a moment to breathe. You accepted that job, and hit the ground running. It couldn’t have been easy starting all over again, but you did it because you’re just like Ma. Eres una súper mujer.” You’re a superwoman.
A lump forms in my throat at the comparison. It’s the highest of compliments from Cruz to be compared to my mom.
“But you don’t have to be that strong all the time. You want to be mad at the world? You want to make voodoo dolls with la pinche cara de Connor’s dad on it? Then do it. But don’t rush yourself because you think you have to.”
Cruz and I laugh at the spanish insult, both of us imagining cushions with Connor’s dad’s face on it, and pins sticking out.
“I really miss him, Cruz,” I confess. “I feel like we didn’t even really scrape the surface of what we could be.”
“It’s still early in the game, Harps. It’s just half time.”
* * *
Fingers running through my hair startle me, waking me up from an unexpected nap. I look up to see my mother’s face peering down at me.
“You’re awake,” she cries excitedly.
“I don’t think I had much of a choice, Ma,” I say groggily.
“I bought you some gifts. Come on, levántate. Get up”
“Just give me a second okay, I’m going to go to the bathroom first.” As I stand up I see all my brothers standing in Cruz’s living room smiling at me.
“Ahh Shit,” Manuel jokes. “She’s going to cry.”
“Púdrete.” Fuck you. I say wiping away my tears.
“Esta es tu sorpresa, ma?” Is this my surprise mom?
“They couldn’t wait to visit.”
“She’s a liar,” Will adds. “She threatened us. No tamales if we didn’t come.”
So excited they’re all here. I forego the freshening up and give them all huge hugs. Each of my brothers are so different, their response to me being back home proof of that. Manny and Will are the jokesters, Cruz is the heart, and Ceaser is nothing but serious.
After the small but necessary family reunion my mom pulls me aside, and I know she wants to talk.
I haven’t been avoiding her per sé, I just don’t know what to say.
“Mija, Come and sit down,” she orders. Doing as she says, we sit on a futon away from my brothers. “I need to tell you something.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry.”
Confused, I look up at her. “For what?”
“I shouldn’t have let you go to D.C. making you think you needed to pay la deuda de ese cabrón del Anthony.” That asshole Anthony’s debt.
“You didn’t make me do anything,” I assure her.
“I didn’t stop you either. I was too preoccupied with wanting you to have a fresh start, I didn’t realize you were putting so much pressure on yourself.”
“Mo— It was my fault.”
“No, it was Anthony’s fault.” She stares me down. “Who’s fault was it?”
“Anthony’s fault.” I say like an obedient student.
“Perfecto.”Perfect. She nudges me in the shoulder. “So tell me about this Connor. Cruz says he’s your toyboy.”
I slap my hand to my forehead. “It’s boytoy, and do you even know what that means? Cruz,” I shout. “You told mom Connor was my boytoy?”
A cacophony of laughter erupts from the living room, and I know they’re enjoying laughing at my expense. “You’re lucky I missed you guys,” I call back.