“Are you sure?”
She patted my cheek. “You take care of Lisa.”
“Is she gonna be okay? I’ve never seen cramps like this.”
“They’re different for everybody, but I’m assuming she has a uterine-related medical condition if she’s seeing Suzanne Douglas.”
I nodded, not sure if Lisa would be okay with me disclosing the exact nature of her medical condition. I was sure Mom would find out from Dr. Douglas anyway.
"Poor thing," Mom said, shaking her head. "Well, pack a bag for CJ, and I'll get to work."
“Thanks, Ma.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
* * *
Lisa was still curled under the covers when I went back into the room after talking to Mom.
"How do you feel?"
"How do I feel after you saw me five minutes ago with no pain meds?"
“Soooo, the same?”
She heaved a deep sigh. “I’m sorry. That was mean.”
“Hmm, Lisa being mean to me…what’s that like?” I asked in mock confusion before smiling at her.
"You're lucky I don't have my bat this time and don't make me laugh. I’ll have to force choke you."
I chuckled.
“Would it be inappropriate employee/employer contact if I asked you to hold me like you did the last time I was sick?”
“I could ask the head of the HR department when he’s done with his blueberries.”
Lisa laughed, then winced again. "Dammit, Cole."
"Sorry." I went to the bathroom, grabbed a washcloth, soaked it with cool water, and brought it to bed.
“That’s good,” she sighed as I pressed it onto her forehead. “Now I really feel bad for being mean to you.”
“Which time?” I asked as I crawled into bed beside her and pulled her into my chest.
“The only time you didn’t deserve it,” she said.
"That's fair." I almost planted a kiss on the top of her head but restrained myself.
“Thank you for kidnapping me again.”
I chuckled and squeezed her against my chest. “Anytime.”
* * *
After a dose of potent painkillers, a heating pad, and some Olympic-caliber spooning, Lisa drifted off to sleep in my arms wearing her CPAP mask. I thought back to the last two times we shared a bed. The first time she was all dressed up with her hair and makeup done, the second time she was naked and sweaty, her cheeks flushed, giving her a post-coital radiance. Today, she was curled against me in baggy pajamas, clutching a heating pad to her abdomen while wearing an oxygen mask. For reasons that became clearer every moment I spent with her, she never looked more beautiful.
"I love you, Lisa," I whispered softly in her ear.
“I love you too,” she whispered back.
Surprised that she responded, I sat up and looked at her. She was still asleep…or at least I thought she was. "Lisa?" I whispered again. No answer. Maybe I misheard her. Maybe she didn't say anything, and my brain manifested the response I wanted.
Lisa shifted deeper into my arms and mumbled in her sleep.
Yeah, I misheard her. She was wearing her sleep mask and was high as a kite from those painkillers.
I imagined it.
Clearly.
Obviously.
I settled in and tried to calm my heart as I watched her mask fog and clear. With Lisa in my arms and my nose buried in her hair, I inhaled the scent of her shampoo while the low whirring of the CPAP machine lulled me to sleep.
* * *
Lisa was feeling better by the end of the day, and I couldn't remember being more grateful for something since CJ crapped out her ring. She ate a little something but still felt tired at the end of the evening, so we ended up in bed together again. Not that I was complaining.
In the morning, the apartment was completely empty. CJ had a sleepover with Kimberly and Adam and would be spending the day with them. My parents lured RJ out with the promise of a submarine and a trolley ride through an old cave. We ate breakfast together and decided to hang out in our pajamas, sit on the balcony, and watch the freighters go by.
“You were talking in your sleep again yesterday.” I turned to look at her and tried to read her first reaction to what I’d said. She looked embarrassed but curious. She had no idea what she said in her sleep.
“Oh, God,” she groaned. “I hope I didn’t say anything embarrassing. What? Did I tell you my social security number?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“Those meds make me really loopy sometimes. That’s why I hate taking them unless I have no choice. Would you tell me if I said something crazy?”
“Sure,” I lied.
* * *
The rest of the week flew by and I got to fall asleep with Lisa in my arms every night. Seeing her in so much pain wasn’t easy, but I was glad I could be the one to comfort her. The first three days, I took care of her instead of the other way around. She spent most of those days in bed, only getting up to use the bathroom and shower.
By the fourth day, she wanted to go outside, so we took CJ to the beach where he chased his first "kwab" and ate his body weight in sand. She was nearly at a hundred percent by the weekend so, Mom, Kimberly, and Aunt Patrice included Lisa on a girls’ trip to a day spa, leaving us men to fend for ourselves.
Adam took us to the racetrack, where Dad and RJ bet against each other, and CJ alternated shouting the words "wook" and "hoseys" about a thousand times.
"Hey." Adam walked up to me and leaned on the fence, where I was balancing CJ on the top beam. "Ready for tomorrow?"
“I hope so.”
“Think she’ll be happy?”
“God, I hope so.” I smiled. “Hey, thanks for watching CJ again.”
"Are you kidding? We love this little guy. Right, little man?" He tickled CJ's belly and he dissolved into giggles.
I cleared my throat and turned to him. “Hey, man,” I began hesitantly. I wasn’t a heart-to-heart kind of guy, though I did overshare with Adam when I was drunk a few months ago. “Do you and Kimmy ever talk about having kids?”
“Sometimes.” He shrugged. “We probably should’ve talked about it more before we got engaged, but fuck it.” He chuckled.
“What if you guys couldn’t have your own kids?”
He went quiet and turned to watch the horses for a minute before he spoke. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't want kids that were half me and half Kimberly, probably mostly Kimberly." He huffed out a small chuckle. "But at the end of the day, I want her, and I want her happy, whatever that means. I know she wants kids. She's great with CJ, and she's great with my niece, but if for some reason we couldn't have our own, I'd be happy as long as I had her."
I nodded.
The irony of the situation was that I never wanted kids, biological or otherwise. I lucked out when I got adopted, and I knew that I couldn't give what my parents gave me to a another kid. But the moment CJ crawled into my lap, I knew instantly I would give him anything. I would do the same thing for Lisa. I know she wants children of her own, and if I couldn't give them to her, I wondered if CJ and I would ever be enough for her?
24
lisa
“Hey.” I re-entered the bedroom after my shower to find Cole packing a small duffle bag with my clothes. “What are you doing?”
“We’re going on a road trip with Adam and Kimberly.”
"Y'all do way too much on your family vacations. When we went to PR, we had to make our own fun, and if we ever said we were bored, my grandmother would make us do chores, so we never told her we were bored," I said with a laugh. Cole gave me a funny look that made me suspicious. "What are you up to?"
“I’m not sure what you mean.” He smirked. “You almost ready?”
"How can I get ready when I don't know where we're going? Are we going parasailing? A museum tour? Zip-lining? A cruise…"
"Just get dressed. I have everything we need in here." He held up the duffle bag.
“
How many diapers did you bring?” I asked, trying to gauge how long this road trip would be.
“Enough. Stop digging.” He grinned. “How much time do you need to get ready?”
“Fifteen minutes?”
“See you in twenty.” He snatched the duffle bag off of the bed when he saw me edging toward it.
“Do I need my passport?” I yelled as he closed the door to the bedroom.
“No,” was his muffled reply.
* * *
The five of us boarded a smaller version of the plane that brought us to Barbados. This one didn’t have a bedroom.
“How many planes does Adam’s brother have?”
"No clue," Cole said with a shrug. "But I think he owns an airline."
“He owns part of an airline. The jet we took here was his personal plane, but I thought it would be too big for such a short trip and half the amount of people,” Kimberly chimed in.
"So," I mused. "It's a short trip, and I don't need my passport…"
“Kimmy, please stop helping her spoil her own surprise.”
"Don't tell me what to do," Kimberly quipped with a giggle. "But he's right, Lisa." She smiled at me and leaned back in her seat, slipping her hand into Adam's and squeezing. She took a deep breath and looked nervous.
“You okay, princess?” Adam asked her.
“I’m fine,” she answered and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I have you.”
I gazed at Cole and smiled.
"I don't know where you're taking me, but I already know I'm gonna love it. Thank you." I squeezed his arm before I slipped CJ off of my lap and buckled him in his car seat.
* * *
Ninety minutes after we left Barbados, the pilot announced our descent. He didn't mention our location, which I was sure was for my benefit. Cole also made sure all of the shades were drawn on the windows. I was ninety-nine percent sure where we were headed, but I didn't want to get my hopes up, and I also wouldn't want to hurt Cole's feelings if I was wrong. He seemed to have gone to a lot of trouble to plan whatever he was planning and might have been more excited than I was.
The plane bumped to a landing and came to a stop. Cole put out his arm to stop me when I went to unbuckle my seat belt.
“Not so fast.” He grinned and reached into the duffle bag pulling out three dark blue booklets.
“You said we wouldn’t need passports.”
"Technically, we don't. But we do need IDs, and I said you didn't need your passport because I already had it,” he said with a grin.
A moment later, a beautiful woman about my age stepped onto the plane. As soon as I saw her, I knew exactly where we were. She had pale, golden-brown skin and sleek brown hair tucked into a low bun. She wore a blue suit with a pin of a bright green-jeweled frog holding a red, white, and blue flag on the lapel.
Cole handed her our passports and turned to face me. My eyes welled with tears, and my cheeks were strained from the giant grin I was wearing.
“Surprise,” he said.
“Pize!” CJ mimicked.
“Welcome to Puerto Rico,” the customs agent said to Cole when she returned our passports. “Enjoy your stay.”
* * *
Two identical SUVs were waiting on the tarmac. Adam and Kimberly climbed into one. Cole and I climbed into another. There was a car seat for CJ and a stroller folded in the trunk.
“They’re not coming with us?” I asked as Adam and Kimberly’s car drove off.
“We’ll see them later.”
"So, where are we going?"
“Wherever you want. I was hoping you’d have some ideas since I’ve never been here.”
I laughed, but it was a watery chuckle because I was still crying. It didn't occur to me how much I missed coming here and how much joy the end of my marriage had taken from me until I was sitting in this car, with this man offering me what felt like the world.
"I'd like to see my dad," I whispered, my throat was constricted, and I cleared it. "Is that okay?"
"Of course." He smiled and used his thumbs to wipe away the tears that were rolling down my cheeks. "But I don't think I'm gonna make a good impression if you're crying when we get there."
“Shut up.” I laughed again and pulled out my phone.
“Papi.” My voice was still shaking. “It’s Lisa.”
"I know who my daughter is," he laughed. "I haven't seen her in almost a year, and she doesn't call me nearly enough."
“Ha ha. Listen, Papi, I’m in Puerto Rico.”
"What? Right now?" The excitement in his voice turned on my tears like a faucet.
"Yes, I just landed. Can I come to see you?"
“¡Claro, mi amor! What are you doing here?”
"It's a long story, but I'll tell you when I see you."
Dad gave me the address to the legal clinic he was running in Hato Rey, the business district in San Juan, and soon we were on our way. I slid my hand into Cole’s and squeezed, not caring if it was inappropriate.
* * *
“Papi,” I squealed out of the window when the car pulled up to his office. My father looked older than he did when I saw him at Christmas. His skin was deeply tanned from the island sun and the creases around his eyes were deeper. There was also a week’s worth of stubble covering his cheeks and lower jaw. Papi looked exhausted and I wondered how much sleep he was getting.
He was waiting outside for us. Cole helped me out of the car, and I ran into my dad’s arms, squeezing him as hard as I could. When we finally separated, he grabbed me by my shoulders and inspected me.
"You look good, mija." His eyes moved over to Cole, holding CJ in his arms. "So this must be my fake future son-in-law," my father exclaimed with a laugh.
Cole looked sheepish as he reached out to shake my father’s hand.
"Oh, don't look like that. All's fair in family court. I've had clients do a lot worse to win a case. And as a fake fiancé, you're shaping up to be a better man than the gran cabron she married.”
"Papi, please," I said. He never missed an opportunity to drag my ex. And though he deserved it, I really wanted this day to be about me and this amazing gift Cole had given me. Dad's expression softened, and he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and squeezed.
"Nice to meet you, sir." Cole looked nervous about meeting my dad, and it was kind of endearing. It reminded me of how nervous I was to meet his family.
“Cole is a lawyer, too, Papi,” I said. It was suddenly important that my father liked him, too.
“Oh, yeah. Your mother told me. Where did you go to school, Cole?”
“Harvard, sir.”
My father's eyes widened, and his face spread into a sly grin. "Well! Harvard man. It's too bad you don't speak Spanish. We could use another lawyer around here." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.
“I do speak Spanish.”
My head jerked up at Cole the same time my father tilted his head and raised his eyebrows.
“¿Tu hablas español?” my dad and I said at the same time.
“Sí, crecí en Jackson Heights, Queens, y aprendí el resto en la escuela. Mis padres y mis hermanos también hablan español con fluidez.”
Cole's entire family was fluent in Spanish, and I had no idea. Shit, Cole was fluent in Spanish, and I had no idea. I wish I'd known before. Cole could've told me all the dirty things he was going to do to my body in Spanish the night we had sex.
“Well, we could really use you. How fast can you read?”
"Pretty fast," Cole answered.
“Retention?” My father’s eyes narrowed.
"Pretty high." Cole's nervousness was replaced with incredibly sexy smug self-confidence.
“Papi, I don’t think Cole wants to volunteer at a law clinic on vacation—”
"I really don't mind," Cole interrupted. "Volunteer work is kind of a big deal in my house. I'd love to help out if I can." He turned to face me, and CJ leaned down and jumped into my arms. "But you're in charge. We do whatever you want today."
M
y dad smiled at Cole for a moment before turning to me. “C’mon, mija. Two hours, no more. And I’m buying lunch.”
“Fine,” I agreed.
“I called Mamita. She almost cried when I told her you were here. She’s making asopao de pollo just for you.”
I turned to Cole and smiled. He put his arm around my shoulder as we walked into the clinic.
* * *
Four hours later, Dad and Cole had somehow become best friends. They were making plans to play poker the next time my father was in New York. Cole had also acquired three law books, which told me that my father was hatching a scheme to get him back to PR for more volunteer work. Something told me Cole would be happy to oblige.
I learned so much about him in those few hours, and spending time with his family made me understand how he became the man I knew I loved. He was kind and nurturing. He was brilliant, but he wasn't cocky about it. He was so fortunate, but he didn't take anything for granted. He was funny, but he wasn't mean.
I've never felt more comfortable or more myself with anyone. This connection between us was about more than CJ. I had to stop pretending to pretend. I made a commitment to the fake engagement plan until CJ's adoption hearing, but I didn't think I could last that long in this limbo. If Cole did one more nice thing for me, if we shared one more lingering glance or, hell, if he even touched me, I would explode. I felt like a balloon that someone kept inflating with love, and I was about to burst.
“Hey, you okay?” Cole asked me with his eyebrows furrowed. I must have been daydreaming.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
"Sorry that took so long. This poor woman has lived in this house on the beachfront for over sixty years, and we were trying to figure out how to prove ownership. It's been in her family for generations. This is fucked up." He was running his fingers through his hair. "She traveled for over an hour to get here. Did you know your dad pays for a van to pick—What?" he asked when he noticed me gazing at him. I felt myself smiling.
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