Daddy Ink

by Ali Lyda

  I waved, making sure Andrew saw me. Then I signed, slow and clumsy, “Hello, Andrew. How are you?”

  Andrew beamed, and his hands flew so quickly it was difficult to track. The translator caught my stunned look and spoke. “Andrew said it’s good to see you and he’s impressed with your signing.”

  “Thank you. How have you been?” Only, I was pretty sure I got it wrong, because his nose wrinkled and his translator signed to him. He replied to her, a teasing grin on his face.

  “Okay, I’m not so impressed, now,” she said.

  It startled me, the way she shifted to ‘I’. “Excuse me?”

  “Oh,” she said, “I’m here to help translate. I’m practicing for my university class. It is better to act as if I’m not here. Look at Andrew and not me when speaking, and know that all I’m doing is telling you as close to what he says as I can manage.”

  “Uh, okay.” I went to squat in front of Andrew, putting us on an even field. “I hope you’ve been well,” I said, making sure he could read my lips.

  His hands moved, his translator talked. “Pretty good. Having Lisa here is a huge help. She helps me keep my temper in check.”

  “That’s awesome, Andrew,” I said, meaning it. Javi would be so pleased.

  Andrew’s brow wrinkled as he signed. “Where’s Javi? Is he okay?”

  “I hope so.” It didn’t seem right to lie to Andrew, but he was a kid, and I couldn’t tell him all of what was going on.

  He looked pensive, and then signed something else. “If he isn’t okay, promise me you’ll help him get better. He always looks out for me. Could you look out for him?”

  Oomph. “Yes. I’ll help him and look out for him. I promise.”

  What I didn’t add was if he’ll ever forgive me.

  There was a definite nip to the air. I picked up Giuliana from her blanket on the grass and put on the sweater I’d brought her. She wriggled and fussed and made it as hard as possible. “Don’t you start, too,” I said to her. “I need you on my side.”

  “I’m on your side,” Christian said. He was sprawled on the bench next to me. Usually he was dressed with crisp perfection, but I had to admit… he was looking off. There were bags under his eyes, and his shirt was wrinkled and untucked.

  “You’re beside me,” I teased, knowing it would fall flat. “That’s not the same thing.”

  “You’re a fucking riot,” Christian retorted in a bored drawl. “But I’m glad you invited me to the park. I needed the sunshine and some Giuliana in my life.”

  Giuliana was back on her blanket and learning to get on hands and knees, rocking back and forth. I knew she was building the muscles that would help her crawl. Soon I’d need to babyproof the house, something that felt daunting and impossible while I was so consumed with thoughts of Javi.

  It occurred to me, though, as sunlight warmed my cheeks and kissed my exposed arms, that only weeks before that train of thought would have caused me to spiral into a mess, judging my own parenting and finding me wanting. I’d wanted to run from Javi, because I needed to babyproof! I needed to want to babyproof! If I didn’t, I must be a horrible father, and could allow no other distractions in my life until I was the perfect father!

  But the truth was, sometimes my kid ate grass. And not getting excited about complicated gadgets that were supposed to keep her safe and secure was okay. And I really, really missed Javi. His absence in our life was becoming tangible, and I couldn’t stand it.

  “I didn’t want to be in the house today. I’d just spend the whole time watching Javi’s driveway and hating that he still isn’t home.”

  “Ouch,” Christian said, sitting up a little. “It’s that bad?”

  “It’s fucking terrible,” I admitted. Wanting a distraction, I shifted toward him. “What about you and Dane? I haven’t seen the two of you together in a while, and at the party—”

  “Oh, Dane’s being Dane,” Christian replied, cutting me off. Whatever that meant. Before I could press him, Christian pulled the same tactic on me. “Tell me what happened. On the phone you just said the two of you were having a fight.”

  I sighed and watched Giuliana pick up her rattles, one in each chubby fist, and proceed to shake them, giggling at the sounds they made.

  “I knew I needed to do something about Kyle—his harassment was making everything more overwhelming than it needed to be. I wasn’t...I wasn’t very nice to Javi because I got consumed by it. I asked him for some space. Javi’s so...he looks so tough, but he can be really sensitive, too. And you know Kyle—he mows down anything in his way.”

  “Damned straight,” Christian said.

  “But when I met Kyle at a coffee shop to lay it down and threaten legal measures if he didn’t stop harassing me and everyone I know, he tried to win me over by telling me how much he loved me. How much of a mistake he’d made. He grabbed my face, probably thinking he could change my mind with a kiss. And of course, of all the times to walk by the coffee shop—”

  “No,” Christian gasped. “You’re kidding me. Javi saw it?”

  I nodded, my chest constricting with the memory. The pang of loss echoed inside of me. “Saw it and ran. I caught up to him, but then Kyle followed and made fun of Javi’s stutter. Javi just—he went crazy, Christian. He punched Kyle so hard I can still hear the crack of it.”

  I shuddered, seeing Kyle in my mind as he dropped to the ground like a sack of grain. “The moment I saw the blood and I saw Kyle on the ground and I just reacted to that. I went to him instead of Javi. And Javi hasn’t spoken to me since. He won’t come home, he won’t answer my calls, and no one will tell me where he is.”

  I gripped my knees and worked to take in slow, measured breaths.

  “Can I give you some advice?” Christian asked before scooping Giuliana up and picking some sticks and grass out of her curls.

  “Please.” I needed all the help I could get.

  “You keep saying you love Javi and you want to protect him. But he’s your boyfriend, not a child. If you keep things from him, even with good intentions, it means he’ll never be able to believe you. He’ll never know how you feel, because you won’t let him share in all that you feel.

  “I think you’re in love with Javi. But you’ve been in this mode since Giuliana where you have to plan and work hard and take care of everyone. There’s a reason we refer to significant others as ‘partners’, Gordo. Prove that to Javi, because there is nothing worse than having someone not know what you truly feel for them.”

  His words rang true, but at the end, Christian was looking toward some joggers, some cars passing, everywhere but me. He was looking at something—or someone—who wasn’t there, and I knew he was talking as much to himself as to me. I was burning to know what, but the shuttered look on Christian’s face screamed don’t push it.

  “I do love him,” I said. “I want him in my life and in Giuliana’s life. I feel more for Javi in this short time than I ever did in six years of being married to Kyle. He just… is it too cheesy to say that he completes me? Because that’s what it feels like—except not just me. He completes our family.”

  Christian rolled his eyes. “Totally cheesy. More importantly, though, I’m not the person you should be saying this to. Find Javi and tell him, Gordo.”

  There was another message that went unsaid: Before it’s too late.

  Later, after my attempts at finding Javi had turned out to be fruitless, the work for a new client was not providing the distraction I’d hoped it would. I kept checking next door, my email, and my phone for messages from Javi. There was still nothing. All I could think about was how I wanted nothing more than to tear the town apart until I found him and told him how much I loved him and how very sorry I was.

  But I also had Giuliana to think of, so I worked, even though my head just wasn’t in it.

  When the phone rang, I practically flung my mouse away in an effort to answer it. But the ID said Reagan, and my heart leaped into my throat. I desperately needed him to h
ave news on how I could reach Javi.

  “Reagan, I’m so glad you called—have you convinced him to talk to me?” In my eagerness, I didn’t bother with normal phone etiquette. Because with the state my mind was in? Fuck etiquette.

  The man inhaled sharply enough I heard it over the line. My stomach dropped.

  “Gordo, Javi’s been in an accident,” he said, his voice cracking. “He’s in the hospital. I’m on my way there now, but it sounds like it was bad.”

  Blood rushed in my ears, blocking out everything but my own naked terror. Javi was in the hospital. Reagan sounded like it could be...oh, god, how hurt was he? Was I going to lose him? It felt as if all my blood had drained from me at once, leaving me a shell of a person, unable to move. To know what to do.

  “Gordo? Are you there?” Reagan’s rough voice snapped me back to the present. “Look, I’m not sure if he’ll want to see you”—he sniffed hard and I realized he was as close to tears as I was—“or if he’ll be able to see any of us, but I thought you should know.”

  “I’m on my way now,” I said, not thinking, just reacting. Hanging up, I texted Mason, body going through the motions while my mind felt paralyzed with the information.

  Me: Javi’s been in an accident. Can you and Dana keep Giuliana?

  Mason: Of course. What happened? Is he okay?

  Me: I don’t know anything yet. Text you more as I find out.

  Mason: Okay. I hope everything is okay. I’m here for you.

  With my daughter taken care of, I allowed myself to continue moving on autopilot. Getting a bag ready, just in case...well, I wasn’t sure. All I knew was I needed to get to Javi and be ready to stay with him. Help him. I refused to let anything more cross my mind.

  Because saying goodbye to him wasn’t an option I could consider and keep myself in one piece.

  26

  Javi

  There was a beeping that refused to let me stay in the comfort of the darkness behind my eyes, which annoyed me—I hadn’t been ready to give up being unaware. But the beeping made its incessant demands, and I could feel myself pulling up into consciousness, and all the sensations in my body soon followed. Too many sensations, really, and I had to spend time dissecting all of them.

  My ribs hurt each time I inhaled, jagged shards of pain on my left side. My limbs feel stiff and atrophied, like I haven’t moved them in several hours. Maybe longer. I was on my back, but only partially reclined.

  Well, shit.

  The car accident came back to me all at once. I’d been headed to the tattoo shop to talk to Reagan. It had been dusk, the night sky coming sooner and sooner as we meandered into fall. There was another truck that had its lights off—chances were they’d just forgotten to turn them on, but it hadn’t mattered. I hadn’t seen them until they were barreling into my truck.

  Something felt odd about my right hand, and panic coursed through me. Opening my eyes was difficult; they felt dry and crusted over, and my eyelashes peeled apart. The light was harsh and I winced. When I could manage, I looked down at my right hand, my drawing hand, terrified I’d find it in a cast.

  What I found instead stole my breath from me—Gordo was holding my hand. He’d fallen asleep, his head rested on my thigh. Even while he dreamed, there were lines on Gordo’s forehead that spoke of worry.

  As if of its own accord, my hand pulled out from under his and moved to brush his hair from his eyes. Gordo jerked awake like I’d poured water on him.

  “Oh my God,” he said, staring at me in a way that made me feel like some rare and mythical creature instead of a man in a hospital bed. “You’re awake.”

  “Why are you here?” I asked, and then regretted it. My voice was hoarse and my throat burned as I spoke. I touched my neck, startled.

  “You had a ventilator tube for a while. The nurse said you might feel sore when you woke up. Javi,” Gordo said, his voice cracking. He held my hand between his and kissed my knuckles. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see your eyes again.”

  Then Gordo cried. He didn’t try to wipe away the tears or smother down his sobs. He wept openly, smiling and kissing my hand. More confused than anything, I waited until he started to collect himself again.

  “I was in c-car accident,” I croaked out.

  “Shhh, don’t talk so much yet. But yes, you were in an accident. Your truck is totaled—it rolled twice before slamming into a concrete barrier. You’ve been in a coma for almost three days.” Gordo stopped and swallowed hard, his brow furrowed so deeply I wanted to reach over and smooth it out. “You have three broken ribs and some head trauma.”

  Shit. Gordo wasn’t someone prone to exaggerating—and based on his reactions, I was lucky to be alive. But he still hadn’t answered my first question… why was he here?

  “Why are you here?” I asked again. And then, to make my point clear, I added, “S-shouldn’t you be with Kyle?”

  Because the accident had made my body feel like shit, but it wasn’t enough to make me forget the low place I’d already been in before. Spending almost every waking hour playing that awful scene of Kyle and Gordo together in a loop, wearing myself down with each repeat. It had been excruciating. And yet...he was here. With me. Holding my hand and crying.

  Gordo’s mouth tightened, his lips a thin pale line. “I will never be with Kyle again—what you saw, it wasn’t what you think it was. But I’m still sorry you had to see that.”

  I forced down the hope that was beginning to lift my heart. I was still wary and honestly, I was still angry. “T-tell me what happened,” I said, steeling myself.

  He nodded, resigned. “Kyle had been calling and texting even before he crashed our cookout, but I’d been telling him to fuck off, that I wasn’t interested in getting back together. But after, he began to text and call my mom and Mason. Then he...he put some shit up on social media about me. And about you. It was enough to make me lose my shit, to be honest. I put together some legal resources and agreed to meet him at the coffee house.”

  Gordo rubbed his thumb across the dry skin of my hand, seeming to need to comfort himself as much as me.

  “Kyle wasn’t always like this. Or he hid it better, if he was. Because I was in love with him once, and I’d wanted to have a baby with him. But when he left, it was like all the little things I’d been able to sweep under the rug came out. Things about him I’d been able to forgive or ignore. At the coffee shop, he did his very best to remind me of why we’d been together.”

  Gordo leaned into me, touching his forehead to mine. “What you saw was his last, desperate bid to win me back. I was trying to gather the strength to tell him goodbye for good, because we’re really, completely over. But then you saw, and it sort of fell apart.”

  “Why d-d-did you go to him after the fight?” I managed to say. “When I was the one hurting?”

  “Javi...that is my biggest regret. I saw the blood, and I just reacted without thinking. There was so much happening all at once. I want you. Always you. But I’m undoing a lot of muscle memory when it comes to Kyle. That might...that might be something I need you to help me with. If you would be willing to?”

  I lay back and stared at the ceiling tiles. “I want t-to. B-but I’m worried. My head wants me to b-believe this is a lie. That it is t-too good to be t-t-true.”

  Raising my head, I stared into his eyes, allowing myself to dive headfirst into their worried depths. This was uncharted territory for both of us. I took his hand and pressed it to my chest, right over the shield that had protected me for so long. “B-but my heart wants you. So if you’ll help me, too, I’ll b-be there for you.”

  Gordo’s shoulders relaxed and his face lit up, his relieved smile rising like a sunrise.

  “Always, Javi.” He leaned over and kissed my forehead, and I felt the heat of it long after he’d returned to his seat. “Look, I need to go tell the nurses you’re awake. I just...I wanted to be here when you woke up.”

  My lower lip trembled. “I’m...glad you were.”


  It was a lot to digest all at once, but I did believe Gordo—and if I didn’t forgive him, I’d only be hurting myself. But my forgiveness didn’t wipe the slate clean. It would take some time and effort for me to untangle the hurt and anger that I’d balled so tightly within myself.

  Gordo stood and, with one more quick kiss, grabbed a nearby nurse to let them know I was awake. After that I was subjected to a whirlwind of nurses, doctors, tests, and needles. I dozed in and out for most of it, my body still healing, only coming to in a fugue here and there to answer questions or verify my current state.

  It was exhausting. The yellow light and white walls of the hospital made me feel claustrophobic. I started to hate the nurses when they wheeled in a cart carrying more pills and needles, and the fucking machine I was hooked up to that wouldn’t stop beeping at me. But for all of my irritation, I knew to be grateful I was in a place where I could even be alive to be irritated.

  “There he is,” a booming voice said, breaking me from the monotony of sitting in a hospital bed. Reagan stood in the doorway with a vase of flowers. I smiled, glad to have a distraction and happy to see my friend.

  “Hey, B-boss.”

  “Hey, Javi. I’m so fucking glad to see you.” Reagan choked up, and I felt a squeeze in my heart. The big softy.

  “You t-too. But I am b-bored as hell now. Tell me s-something good.”

  Grinning like a fool, Reagan took a seat next to me. “I saw Gordo talking to your doctors. He’s been here each time any of us have come by. He hasn’t left your side, Javi. Flat out refused to leave. He’s got it bad for you. You know that, right?”

  Unable to speak, I nodded. I did know that. The shit that happened with Kyle, all of our misunderstandings, those were superficial. What mattered was what I felt in the deepest corners of myself—the ones that fought to make me unhappy—and even in those places, I knew Gordo loved me. Every inch of me knew it and embraced it, now.