“Yes, I did,” I said, unapologetically, as we sank into the comfy couch together. We were so close our legs brushed against each other. His body so sturdy next to mine. I looked at his hands, which were on his lap, one holding the beer and the other the empty napkin that had held his second quipe.
I imagined the weight of his arm on me, anchoring as we sat close together and watched TV with my family around us. His aftershave smelled like lemon verbena and I was addicted to it. I closed my eyes and imagined a kiss brushing on my temple, his scent enveloping me.
I opened my eyes and found him looking at me intensely, his arm twitching on his lap, and I wondered if he wanted to be closer as much as I did. I racked my brain trying to think what the hell we’d been talking about before I went down this lust rabbit hole.
My dad’s voice shattered the tension, and when he looked at us there was a knowing expression there. “She started asking me to do it as a nod to Kaepernick.” He leaned over to press a palm to my cheek. “I do it every week now, even though she’s not home. Julita’s always kept our family looking at the big picture, ever since she could talk.” Rocco turned to me and I could feel his body almost vibrating. I wondered if, like me, the need to get closer was getting more intense with each passing second.
“I believe it.” As if confirming a known fact. “Julia’s the best. She’s certainly the heart of our group here.”
My dad grunted in agreement. “She’s always fought for those who needed fighting for.”
And as if this day needed to get any weirder, now my dad and Rocco were competing on who would do the most in praising me.
“Papi, are you going to embarrass me?”
My father laughed. “Embarrass you? Rocco’s known you for a few months. I can tell he sees how wonderful you are.”
Fun fact: the earth will not open up and swallow you, no matter how hard you want it to.
“Julia’s told me that you’ve been to see her programs. How was it seeing her in action?”
“Papi, Rocco probably wants to watch the game.”
“No, I’m good.” His grin was mischievous, and apparently he was one hundred percent on board with going to embarrass-Julia territory.
“I’ve only seen a little bit. I was asked to go observe the foundation programs by the board. But I’m glad I did. Julia’s done a great job and she’s so good with the families.”
“We’re very proud of her.”
Kill me now.
I needed to redirect. “Rocco’s also pretty amazing. He has a pretty fancy job and is a great support to his younger sister. Did you get a chance to talk to her today?”
His expression changed at the mention of his sister, those blue eyes sparkling with genuine affection as he ran a finger over the gold label of the beer. “Yeah, I talked to them for a little bit. My sister is in a young mothers’ group and they do a nice Thanksgiving potluck with the kids.” And just as soon as the smile for his niece had appeared, it was gone. When he spoke again, the tone was flat, like he didn’t want to give anything away. “She may stop to see my parents later too.” He fiddled with his bottle some more, face shuttered from any emotion.
“You and your family aren’t close?” That was my dad.
Rocco took time to consider his words. He lifted his head and looked at my dad, then moved just a little bit closer to me. It was a ghost of a movement, but my fool head went right to where it should not and decided the closeness made him feel more at ease.
When he answered, his voice sounded stronger and I wished I could thread my hand in his. Let him know I could tell he was making an effort to not let the conversation affect him or change the mood in the room.
“My family is a bit chaotic. My sister and I are close, but my parents are...hard.” He tried smiling through those last words, but his eyes did not match the expression. “Holidays can be stressful. I’ll be home for Christmas though.”
My dad was now fully into social worker mode, and it was taking everything I had not to bookend Rocco into an empathic-listening cocoon.
“Julia’s right, sounds like you have a lot to be proud of too.” Rocco stopped picking at the label on the bottle and looked at Paula, who was curled up on my armchair with her Beats perched on her head, engrossed in whatever she was watching on her tablet.
“I had to stay strong for my sister. She’s about nine years younger than me. I stayed there as long as I could, but I left when I realized me being there made things worse for everyone. What took me a lot of therapy to untangle was that my dad not hitting us didn’t mean he wasn’t abusive.”
He shook his head then, and seemed to be getting tired from having to talk about this stuff. “He talked down to us a lot, told me I wouldn’t amount to anything. He never helped my mom with the house or with us but nitpicked everything she did. We never knew what we’d get when he got back home from work; sometimes her making the wrong thing for dinner would send him on a rampage. With my sister, he was a little better, but not much, and it was relentless. That’s why this project is sort of a big one for me. If I do well here, I’m in line for a promotion.”
He lifted a shoulder and when he looked at me, there was more than a little regret in his eyes. “I’ll have Sofia and Blue come live with me. Move to a place outside the city with better schools.”
The reminder of what was at stake for Rocco hit me like a ton of bricks. This wasn’t just about him. He had his sister and little niece depending on him.
“We’re glad you’re here now, son.” With that, my dad stood up, put his hand on Rocco’s shoulder, and squeezed. “Aqui estas en familia.”
He blushed at my dad’s words. “You’re with family.” It was something that Latinx people said to friends and visitors all the time. Mi casa es tu casa, and all that.
We were big on hospitality. That was a stereotype that actually fit with reality. But hearing my dad say it to Rocco and seeing the reaction it had on him, how his shoulders relaxed and his smile widened, made me wish for things I could not have.
Just as I was mulling over those very things, my mother yelled from the kitchen, “Vamos a comer.”
“You ready for this?” I couldn’t tell exactly what I was referring to, but dinner didn’t seem to be quite it.
Still, he gave a sharp nod and started moving. “I am.”
We all stood to attention as my mom’s voice rallied us all to the kitchen. While we walked the few steps, I felt his hand brush against my lower back. A light touch, it could’ve been accidental, but when I looked up I could see it wasn’t. The tender smile on his lips gave it away. I stood there, just a few feet from the chaos of my mother passing platters to my sister. My dad wrangling the enormous pork shoulder to the table, where he would carve it for us to eat... The familiar sounds of an Ortiz-Rodriguez holiday, and I felt something powerful happening between me and Rocco.
Undeniable.
I liked this man. I wanted him, and from the way he was looking at me, he wanted me right back. If only our lives weren’t pulling us in completely different directions.
But maybe that was exactly the key to all this. We’d have to part ways no matter what. If I just let myself have him, burn out this fire that had been roaring under my skin since the moment I laid eyes on him, maybe I could move on with my life.
It wasn’t deviating from my plan; it was just a pause. Self-care. Yes, that’s what this could be.
I looked up at him, and those blue eyes were like flames licking at my skin. And it wouldn’t stop, I knew that. The only way to end this was for both of us to get this out of our systems. And then we could each part ways without wondering what could’ve been.
Chapter Twenty
Rocco
“Un poquito más pastel, Rocco?” I refrained from groaning at Julia’s grandmother’s fourth attempt to offer me more food. I thought I was going to explode from everything I’d
consumed in the last hour.
“Abue dejalo! Se va a poner malo,” Julia protested, apparently concerned for my health. She sounded worried, but I was a bit confused by what she’d said, then looked at Abuela, who just waved her off and proceeded to hand me another piece of chocolate hazelnut cake.
“You told her the food is going to turn me bad? I mean, it might make me sick if I eat more—”
She laughed and ran her hand over my forearm, the third time she’d done that since we’d moved back to the living room for more game time and dessert. She’d only had a couple of glasses of wine, so I couldn’t pin it on alcohol-induced affection. But something had shifted since I’d spilled my life story before dinner. I didn’t want to make unhealthy assumptions and decide she felt pity for me. I thought too highly of her to do that. But this new closeness seemed very different.
She was still laughing at my question, but answered with a smile lifting her lips. “It’s a Dominican expression, something like ‘he’s going to get sick.’”
I looked at the chocolate cake in my hand and then at Julia and her dad, and they both shook their heads.
“Don’t eat it,” her dad warned. “The first time I met Pura, she kept handing me plates of food until I was sure I’d puke on her couch, and that’s saying a lot, I’m Puerto Rican!”
I took his advice and discreetly put the slice of cake on the coffee table.
“Good man. Sometimes my suegra’s food can be too much of a good thing, if you know what I mean. Now the rum, that’ll help.”
I liked Julia’s dad. He was kind and friendly. And he looked at his wife and daughters like they hung the moon and the stars. I wondered how he and Coach would get along—probably great. I also was not going to read too much into the fact that he compared me crashing their Thanksgiving dinner to the first time he ate at his in-laws.
That was not the place my head needed to go. I grabbed the small glass of rum I’d been nursing, to finish it before I stood up, and pulled on Julia’s hand. Her puzzled expression was adorable, but she just let me bring her with me and I wanted to kiss her. No, I wanted to ravage her. Grab her by the waist and pull her tight against me as I licked into her mouth.
Instead, I pointed at the kitchen. “Let’s go clean up.” Both Paula and Sebastian stared at me with stunned faces at the suggestion. Julia, on the other hand, was giving me a look that was very far removed from professionally friendly.
When she spoke, her voice was soft and mellow, and I wished to everything that this night could end with us wrapped up in each other, full of good food and family. “Uh-oh, you’re going to have to fight Abuela to make her leave the kitchen.” That was Paula, who seemed totally amused by my suggestion.
Julia was into it though. “We’ll go see if she’ll be able to say no to the blue-eyed gringo.” Her grin and her dad’s low chuckle made me think things were about to get dicey with Pura.
She let go of my hand and waved it in the direction of the kitchen, where her mom was busy putting food into containers and her grandma was apparently handwashing the high-end disposable plates we’d eaten on.
I started walking toward them slowly and after a couple of steps looked back to find Paula, Julia, and their dad watching me like I was the best entertainment in town. I pointed at Julia and wagged my finger. “Is something about to happen to me?”
She cracked up and mouthed, “You’ll be fine.”
Suuuuure I would be.
I got to the counter and cleared my throat to get the two older women’s attention. They both snapped their heads up with matching beatific smiles aimed at me.
“Oh, Rocco. Quieres algo?” I rushed to shake my head at the inquiry, in case the something they were wondering if I wanted more of was food.
“No,” I said, beckoning Julia over. “Queriamos ayudar con la limpieza.” I paused for a moment when they both gave me blank stares at the suggestion of us helping with the cleanup, and wondered if my Spanish wasn’t right. There was some sputtering, but soon after, Sebastian and Paula also came to help.
There was some very fast Spanish, and Sebastian clapped me hard on the shoulder. Pura and Yolanda considered each other for a couple of seconds, and then abuela started taking her apron off. Yolanda followed her example while the other three gasped as if something monumental was unfolding in the cramped kitchen. It seemed like Abuela’s accepting my offer to clean was a game changer for the Ortiz clan. I wasn’t even sure why, but I was feeling about ten feet tall, especially when Julia’s grandmother pushed up and kissed me on the cheek.
“Esta bien, querido.” Pura’s smile was wide as she spoke, and Yolanda had a matching expression.
“Julita, your friend is a good boy. I like him,” Yolanda declared with a friendly wink aimed in my direction. Julia, Paula, and Sebastian had matching expressions of shock as I smugly tied on Abuela’s discarded apron. I waggled my eyebrows at Julia as she looked on in disbelief. Pura and Yolanda each patted me on the shoulder as they walked from the kitchen to relax on the couch.
“Vamos, Julita, a limpiar,” I teased, as she shook her head in amazement.
I noticed Julia’s shock was quickly replaced with an expression that looked a bit more menacing, so I quit teasing. But soon she and I were cleaning up side by side in the kitchen as her dad and Paula tidied up the living room.
Once we got busy scrubbing pots and pans, Julia bumped my shoulder. “I never thought there would be a guy to wear my abuela down and get her to take a rest after a holiday meal.”
“Oh?” I was impressed with my ability to sound casual.
“My ex, Matt, and I were together on and off for like fifteen years and she never let him anywhere near her kitchen.” She frowned at something, then muttered. “Not that he ever offered.”
I’d never wanted to punch someone I hadn’t met so bad, but if I ever ran into that fucker I was going to pop him right on the mouth.
“On the first try you got her to actually sit down.” She gestured at her grandmother, who was sipping some rum, with a baffled expression. “You talked her into literally putting her feet up! What kind of witch are you?”
I laughed and winked at her. “Uh, wizard, and Abuela likes me, I guess.”
Something that sounded a lot like “get in line” left her lips, but we went back to cleaning up in companionable silence.
Being here with Julia, it made me yearn for things I never knew I wanted or even considered I deserved. With Coach Brito, I’d always been welcome and cared for, but I wasn’t one of them. My parents were always lurking only a few miles away, threatening to pull me back into their chaos.
Here though, in this city and in this apartment, I felt like I was right where I was supposed to be. Like I was a piece of the puzzle, and if I went missing, the picture would not be complete.
* * *
Things were starting to wind down at Julia’s and even though I knew I should, I didn’t want to leave. I ran my hand over her thigh, which was under a blanket she’d draped over the two of us while we watched an old movie with her family.
A shiver ran through her as I touched her, and more than anything I wanted to have my hands on her skin. Her eyes were sultry and she looked soft and sleepy. I wanted to pick her up from that couch and take her to bed. But that would certainly put an end to whatever new set of rules we were playing by tonight. So when she whispered a, “What’s up?” close to my ear that sounded like a moan, I gritted my teeth and did my best to answer in a normal tone.
“I should get going.” I looked around and saw that her dad and grandma had fallen asleep on the little love seat across from us. “Looks like you guys need your space.”
As soon as I uttered the word “space,” Paula—who had been doing something on her phone since she’d been outvoted on her horror movie suggestion—huffed and got up from her spot on the carpet. She eyed the couch Julia and I were still curled
up on, and pointed. “You’re in my bed, my guy.” She didn’t sound like she was exactly thrilled to be sleeping there, but she looked tired and more than a little cranky.
She was so different from Julia, her skin a lot paler and her hair straight and very dark, almost black. She was shorter than Julia too, and very slender, a total contrast to Julia’s curves, but they looked like sisters. Something about how they carried themselves.
I got up, feeling embarrassed that I’d taken her bed. “Sorry about that.” She waved a hand without looking in my direction as she fished for a small toiletry bag from a basket next to the couch.
Before I could think about what I was saying or why, I blurted out, “You and Julia can come and stay at my place if you need a little more space. I have two extra bedrooms and I’m only like a ten-minute walk from here.” I looked around as Julia, who had been folding the blanket, froze with her arms outstretched, each one holding a corner of the soft bright red blanket. Before she could respond, Paula yelled, waking her father and grandmother from their post-meal nap in the process, “Mami! Julita and I are going down the street to sleep at Rocco’s.”
Julia finally reacted and quickly finished up her fold job as she talked. “Paula, hold up! I don’t want to impose.” She turned to me and her face was a mix of panic and anticipation. Which was also a good way to describe what was currently going on with me.
“It’s not an imposition at all. You know I have tons of space, Julia. It’d be my pleasure,” I rushed to reassure her as Yolanda came out of the bedroom.
“What is it, mija? You’re sleeping somewhere else?” I started freaking out internally, wondering if I’d somehow insulted Julia’s family by implying there were too many people or that her place was too small. Before Julia could answer, her dad got up from the armchair, fully awake now. He looked between Julia, Yolanda, and Paula, then at me, his expression unreadable. I wondered if he was calculating just how sleazy I was trying to be with his offspring, but then he smiled and gave me a thumbs-up.
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