“Of course,” Maren says, her eyes glistening.
“Finally,” Deo exclaims, running a hand through his crazy hair.
“Finally?” Cece asks, her face a little panicked.
Deo holds up one finger. “One, can someone pass the rolls, please? By the way, those are killer Mama Rodriguez,” he says, patting his flat stomach and popping one of the rolls Cohen tosses him into his mouth. He chews once, twice, and swallows, then holds up a second finger. “And two, finally.”
“Finally, what?” Cohen tosses another roll across the table to his best friend.
Deo sighs and throws his hands up. “Finally, Cece has come out the Velcro-watch-wearing closet.”
I try not to snort-laugh.
“What does that even mean, you freak?” Lydia demands, her voice shrill.
“Don’t all the lady loving ladies wear Velcro watches?” Deo asks, dead serious.
There are so many choked-back laughs, and Jordan looks totally, completely freaked out.
“Deo, you’re an idiot,” Cece says, but she’s smiling. Almost like she’s relieved.
“How long have you been…” Cohen, the most conservative of our brood clears his throat. “How long have you been seeing her?”
“Andrea and I have been friends for a long time, obviously,” Cece begins. She pauses to take a deep breath before she continues. “Our relationship is a new thing—but it’s something I’ve wanted for a long time.”
“So this is a—” Papi smooths his mustache thoughtfully. “This is a relationship, Cece?”
“Yes,” she says, and there’s a hitch in her voice when she says that one word. She looks around the table at the eyes of our family. “Like any one of yours.”
“Is this lady-friend important to you?” Dad asks, choosing his words carefully.
Cece finally looks up at him, and the nervous expression on her face makes me think of how she looked when we were kids and she thought she might be in trouble. “She is.”
He nods and gives his mustache one last swipe before he declares, “Well, then we are lucky to have her at the celebration. As Maren said, ‘the more the merrier.’”
Jordan squeezes my hand under the table, and I know she’s feeling the same lumpy, scratchy, good, amazing feeling I am.
It basically comes down to the fact that I am so, so damn lucky to have these people as my family.
The rest of the meal passes with pretty ordinary conversation—for the Rodriguez clan—but it feels good to be back at this table with my family no matter how many times exes or farts or the naked paintings of my sister get brought up. And with each laugh, each dish passed, each begrudging half-grin from my father, my promises to Jordan about not being interested in the new job feel less concrete and more like most everything else in my life right now—a half-truth.
I think about how amazing it would be to be if I could be surrounded by my family and have a respectable career. No more bumming around from couch to couch, bouncing from job to job.
Except to do that, I’d be leaving Jordan behind, because there’s no way in hell she’d ever say goodbye to Golden Leaf.
She couldn’t. It’s in her blood, and you can’t turn your back on blood. You can’t leave it behind.
Except I did once. And I wonder if I’d be able to choose that again, now that I fully understand what I walked away from.
“Your family is beautiful.” I pick up the last of the bone china dessert dishes from the patio table and stack them neatly. “Thank you so much for having us, Mrs. Rodriguez. I know it was a shock to have Enzo and I just show up the way that we did—”
“I’m happy you came,” Enzo’s mother interrupts with a smile. She takes the plates from my hands and sets them on the tray she’s using for cleanup, keeping her eyes on her work as she says the next shaky words. “I’ve missed my boy so much.”
“I’m sure you have.”
It’s clear from the way the Rodriguez family interacts that they’re incredibly tight. I’ve never been away from my mom for more than a couple of weeks while one of the other of us was on vacation. My mother drives me crazy sometimes, but I can’t imagine months on end of being apart, and it’s obvious Enzo and his family are just as close—maybe closer than mom and me. Part of me understands why he went running. Being around so many people and so much love and laughter was amazing, but I imagine it can get overwhelming. It makes sense that he escaped to the North for some quiet time to find himself.
But he belongs here, with these people, and that’s indisputable.
And that fact tugs at my heart a little. Maybe he should take this incredible job. It would mean leaving Golden Leaf, yes, but it would also mean mending his life here—his real life.
The one that includes a family who clearly adores and misses him. He has a baby niece on the way. Brothers who miss their surf partner. A father who still has so many wise things to teach his youngest son, a mother who cooks the foods he loved growing up. He has sisters who tease and irritate him, but would clearly take a bullet on his behalf. He has friends, his temple, his memories.
His life.
And it’s not too far. What’s a few hours when you really love someone? It’s a small sacrifice to make if it means he gets to have all this love and support. I could visit him, could force myself to take the time like Enzo is always encouraging me to.
Or is this just me being stupid and dreamy? Do those types of relationships ever work out? Doesn’t the distance always get in the way? Does absence really make the heart grow fonder?
Or does it just open the door to the idea of loving someone who doesn’t have to amend every aspect of their life to try to fit yours? Could I seriously bear so much time without him after I got the chance to have him all for myself for this perfect moment in time?
But maybe that’s what it was meant to be. A moment.
“Excuse me while I put these away,” Mrs. Rodriguez says, her gentle voice breaking through my crazy worries.
“Are you sure I can’t do more to help?” I so desperately need to keep my hands busy so my brain can focus on something other than too many ‘what ifs’ that have no clear conclusions.
“No, go enjoy yourself,” she says, with a wave of her delicate hand. “Join the others, dear.”
Mrs. Rodriguez saunters off, and I lean against the white railing of the patio, watching this guy I’ve known for the last couple of months. I assumed I knew him pretty well, but it feels like I’m seeing the real him, the whole Enzo, for the first time today.
The easy way he grins while he jokes with his brothers and sisters, the way he hugs them all without hesitation makes me see just how stiff and held back he’s been at Golden Leaf. It makes me long for the siblings I never had. Maybe my dad and his child bride will crank out a few babies, and I’ll be able to love on them, but I’ll never have the kind of deep, experience-rich, shared-history type bonds Enzo does with his brothers and sisters—and seeing it firsthand is a ball of guilt sucker-punching me in the gut.
“How’re you doing?” a voice asks.
I turn and Enzo’s pretty younger sister, Genevieve, is smiling next to me, her husband’s arms wrapped protectively around her shoulders. He’s got the hard muscles of a marine, but wears the thick glasses of a professor. I think I remember Enzo saying he’s from Israel, and I’m fairly sure he told me about how they got married so Adam could get his green card.
The marriage might have formed out of convenience, but only a total idiot would look at the two of them and doubt how in love they are.
“This family can be a little much to take in when you’re first coming from the outside,” Adam says with a sympathetic smile. “But hang around long enough, and they’ll love you like one of their own.” He grimaces as he watches Enzo, Cohen, and Deo work tackling into a game of bocce ball. “Or at least they stop trying to beat the shit out of you.”
Genevieve swats at him and rolls her eyes while he kisses her over and over on her temple. “He’s kidding.
He likes to exaggerate how mean my brothers were when we were first married. They’re just overprotective, all of them. It comes from a good place, I swear. And you’re always welcome here.”
Adam drags over two chairs, offering one to me and one to Genevieve.
“Thank you,” I say. I feel welcome, and, dammit, I want more than a moment. I really want to be a long term fixture in Enzo’s life. I want to have dinners and go to parties with these people. I want to go to temple with him. I want to see if my mother would like to come for Thanksgiving. I know without having to ask that the Rodriguez family would welcome her with open arms, and it would be such a nice change of pace after the quiet, depressing holidays of the past where I’ve eaten silently with Mom before going to Dad’s and trying to make conversation with the hordes of random people Jennifer invited over.
I want something messy and embarrassing and loving and real. I want to be a part of this thing Enzo was so quick to walk away from, I guess because he had no clue how good he has it.
Adam is about to hunt down another chair, but Genevieve stands, he sits, and she perches on his lap, her arm around his shoulders, her lips pressed absently on his neck.
I want that. That look of ease. Of comfort. Of love.
Something happens in the bocce ball game. The guys roar, and Enzo and Cohen hoist Deo on their shoulders while their friend screams out “We Are the Champions,” his arms up in a ‘v’ for victory. Genevieve shakes her head and Adam grins, then looks at me and says, “Thanks for bringing him back.”
“Oh.” I shake my head, flustered that they’re giving me credit for this. I want them to know it was Enzo who wanted to come see them. I don’t want them to assume I’m the pushy girlfriend who just wanted to meet the family or something. “I didn’t really,” I explain. “He had the interview, and it was his idea to come by—not that I didn’t want to—he just never really brought it up…” I fumble over my words.
“I gotcha. But what I meant was, you got him to a good place, and he felt like he could finally come back. He hasn’t been ready before,” Adam says with a frown. He tightens his arms around Genevieve, shaking her back and forth. “Plus, your bringing Enzo back got this one off my back.”
“Very funny,” Genevieve says as she cups his chin and glares at him. She turns back to me. “It’s true, though. We’ve called and texted, and he replies once in a while, but he never wanted to come home. Not even for a visit. And he never…he never really sounded okay until recently.”
I think about the callous asshole who broke his heart and sent him fleeing from this beautiful town and gorgeous family. I can’t imagine what kind of intense heartbreak it must have been to make him run like he did. And the fact I’m the person who helped him get over all that pain makes me feel so happy. I’ve been a pretty private, closed-off person for a lot of my life. I feel like I owe Enzo a huge amount of thanks for helping me open up, and it’s amazing to know I may have actually done the same for him.
“I’m glad we came. He’s missed you, I know that,” I say, and I hope it’s of some comfort.
“Hasn’t been the same without him around here. There’s a lot of us, so you wouldn’t think it’d be such a big deal when one isn’t around, but it’s always a lot less fun without Enzo,” Genevieve says. “Every one of us brings something unique to the family, and I think we complement each other pretty well. Without Enzo, we started to take ourselves too seriously.” She laughs, but cuts it short when Enzo’s cheer catches her attention. “When Adam and I got back from Belgium, we really expected that he’d be back, that he’d be better. I guess he just needed more time.”
“I know up North isn’t home for him,” I wish it were home for him, “but he really is doing well.”
“You make him so happy.” Genevieve gives me this look of total appreciation that makes me feel an extra slap of guilt. “He needed you so much.”
I can’t help but note her use of past tense, and wonder if my service is done. If Enzo’s heart has been properly healed, and he can move on now.
Tears prick my eyes, and I swallow hard. I think about that saying: if you love something, set it free.
I’ve always hated that saying.
“This looks serious,” Enzo says, walking over with his arm around his sister Cece’s waist.
“Enzo was just telling me you haven’t been to the ocean down south. Like, ever? How is that possible?” Cece asks, her dark brown curls bobbing up and down as she shakes her head.
“I don’t know! I’m sure it’s gorgeous,” I say like I’m apologizing. Enzo never really understood how I could sacrifice work for all the amazing experiences there were to be had away from work, but I guess I never really got it.
Golden Leaf was always what held my family together. Caring for the vineyard is the one thing that bonded us. Maybe a little part of me thought the way to fill the hole left in my heart when my parents split our family was by pouring myself into the vineyard.
It took Enzo to show me that I couldn’t devote myself to places or things and expect happiness. He showed me that I had to open myself up to the people I love.
“The beach is super close. Walking distance, really.” Cece reaches for my hand, and it makes me smile to see that she actually is wearing a Velcro watch. I think it’s super cute.
Enzo raises his eyebrows at me. “You up for it, doll?”
“Of course,” I say, taking Cece’s hand.
Which feels strange, since we’re both grown up ladies. I don’t think I’ve held hands with anyone other than my boyfriend since I was a little girl, but it feels nice. In my mind, I wonder what it would be like if Enzo and I wound up making this something more permanent. Would Cece, Genevieve, and Lydia become like sisters to me? Would they stand by as my bridesmaids? I think about Jennifer’s wedding and how it felt so phony and sad to me. Do I have a chance to experience something different?
I’m almost glad Enzo and I took so long to get together and to visit his family. Because if I met them before I fell for him, I’m pretty sure I would have wanted to be with him because I fell for them.
Cece tells me stories about the crazy things they did together as kids. She told me about the camping trip where they shivered miserably through the torrential rain and Enzo snuck into the tent and ate the entire stash of candy bars for s’mores, then puked on the sleeping bags. They laughed over memories of surfing for such long stretches of time they came home three shades darker than when they left the house, and Enzo snuck back to surf at dusk, when the sharks were in full force, and got chewed out by his parents for it. They were buckled over cracking up about the Passover Seder where they had to bring extra panels of the dining room table in to accommodate the whole extended family, and their parents were so worried about impressing all their relatives. Enzo snuck two glasses from the open wine bottle, but their father could only glare while ten-year-old Enzo kept sliding out of his chair during the recitation of the Kiddush.
We all fall quiet when the ocean comes into view. Without a word, we stretch our arms and take a long, deep series of breaths in unison, then kick off our shoes and run down to the place where the waves break on the sand over and over.
“I cannot believe that you grew up with this view steps away from your house,” I say, taking in another long breath of the salty sea air while we watch Cece walk slowly into the water, wading out to her calves.
He’s staring at the crashing waves with a pained look on his face. “Being away from it, I think I tricked myself into believing I didn’t miss it as much as I do.” He crouches down and takes some of the white sand in his hands, letting it fall through his fingers.
My heart tightens in my chest. “You really love it here, don’t you?”
He stands up and brushes the sand off his fingers, then reaches for my hand. Enzo tugs me, step by step, closer to him. “There was lots of good to growing up here,” he says, putting an arm around my waist. “But who I am here is already mapped out. I’m the youngest brother of a
loudmouth, overbearing family. I love ‘em, everyone one of ‘em, but it can be hard to find your own place when everyone close to you thinks they know exactly who you are and what you’re capable of.”
“But they’re so wonderful.” I feel like we’re being disloyal to them. My hands slide up over Enzo’s chest and lay flat over his heart, beating slowly and steadily.
I miss being touched by him the way he touched me in the elevator. The smell of him awakens every wild, crazy moment we spent crushed into each other’s arms.
“They’re alright,” he says with a slow grin. He lowers his head and catches my mouth with his. “You? You’re wonderful.”
My blood goes hot under my skin, and I wonder if he can tell he’s making me blush. “I think you’re pretty wonderful yourself, Rodriguez.” I look into his face, his green eyes glowing in the golden sunset. “This is beautiful.”
He never takes his eyes off my face. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” He cups one hand on my cheek.
Cece runs back to grab my wrist and pull me to the waves, where she points out some sea lions out on a buoy. She’s probably seen them hundreds of times, but she and her siblings don’t appear to take anything in this place they came from for granted. We run along the damp sand, climb up the craggy rocks, and gaze into the remnants of tide pools that haven’t evaporated completely. I take in the reddish seaweed, the scream of the gulls, and the painted surface of the ocean at the horizon, reflecting the molten colors of the setting sun.
“This day has been incredible,” I sigh, leaning my head against his shoulder.
He turns me in his arms and the look on his face is pure need. “It’s not over yet, Jordan. If I have anything to do with it, the best is coming.”
He says it like a fierce promise, and I grip his arm with hands that are suddenly shaky. He’s waiting for me to say something, but my throat feels dry.
“I loved meeting your family. But I’ve been thinking about being alone with you all day.”
He kisses me with the taste of ocean salt in the air and the clean scent in our nostrils. I listen to the crash of the waves and my feet sink into the cooling sand. This kiss becomes tied to the beauty of the day and the place Enzo called home his entire life. I only hope wherever he chooses to call home in the future, I’m a part of it.
Almost Lover Page 20