A Restored Man

by Jaime Reese

  She separated from the embrace and cupped his face. "The light in your eyes is still there." She stroked his cheeks as a tear escaped her. She quickly wiped away the wetness on her cheek, still smiling as she stared into his eyes. "You still have it after all these years," she said, reaching up to touch the edge of the fabric of the hat she had knit for him as a teen.

  Cole nodded and forced a smile, trying his best to hold back the emotions that gripped his throat. "Happy birthday, Mami. I've missed you," he said, finally pushing past the knot in his throat.

  She raised a dark eyebrow and slapped him on the chest. "Then you should have let me come by and visit you at the house."

  Cole playfully scowled and held back a grin. "I'm going to call child services. You shouldn't hit your children."

  That earned him another swat to the chest.

  He couldn't help the smile that spread across his face.

  His mother gasped and her hands immediately covered her mouth. Cole turned and saw his sister walking over to them with Julian towering at her side, still holding Pulga close.

  "That's not Marco, Mami," Cole said, now worried his plan wasn't so brilliant after all.

  His mother immediately turned to him with a lowered brow. "Do you want me to hit you again? I'm getting old but I'm still sharp. I know he's not Marco. But…aye Dios mío…he looks so much like him."

  Cole chuckled. "I know. It's freaky, isn't it?"

  She nodded, staring at Julian as he approached.

  "He acts like him too. If it's too weird, we'll leave. I just thought…I don't know," he said, kicking the foot of the chair at his side. "I thought it might be nice to remember. But if it's too hard—"

  His mother reached out and grabbed Cole's hand, turning him to face her again. "I know he's not Marco and no one will ever replace him," she said fiercely.

  "I know," he said, his vision blurring.

  "But remembering is always nice," she said, her expression softer and understanding. She knew Cole was the closest to Marco, but he didn't know if she was aware of the guilt he felt about his brother's death.

  "Mami, did you see?" Carmen said when she stood next to their mom. "He's real," she said, poking Julian at the side.

  "Why does everyone keep doing that?" Julian said, shaking his head. "Happy birthday, Mrs. Renzo."

  "Mami…Vanni…Gus, this is Julian. He and Matt own the halfway house where I'm staying," Cole said.

  Vanni immediately shook Julian's hand while Gus opted for a half hug. His mother's smile widened and she pulled Julian into an embrace. "It's nice to finally meet you. It's always a pleasure speaking with you when you answer the phone. Thank you for taking care of my son."

  Julian smiled. "He's a good kid."

  His brothers and sister held back a chuckle. The small woman raised an eyebrow and looked over at Cole. "Is that so?"

  "Mami, believe me, Julian is being nice. But I am trying," Cole said shyly.

  His mother shook her head and looked back over to Julian. "Will your partner be joining us today?"

  "He'll try," Julian finished, readjusting Pulga in his arms. "We did invite a few people over. I hope that's okay."

  "Absolutely! You will introduce them when you see them." His mother immediately took one of the chairs and positioned it next to her seat. "You will sit with me for a while. I don't want the old ladies having a heart attack thinking they've seen a ghost."

  Cole and his siblings laughed.

  "You," she said, pointing at Cole. "Find Rio and work out your differences."

  "Si, Mami," Cole said, suddenly feeling like a scolded child. Even though they all towered over her, she could easily make the biggest of them cower. He turned and headed toward the house where Rio had escaped to when he arrived. He ran into family along the way, some offered hugs while others, a ready smile. After forty-five minutes of hunting and running into family members he didn't always remember, he finally found Rio, sitting in a corner by himself with the eternal scowl on his face. He pulled a chair over and sat next to him.

  "What do you want?" Rio said.

  "It's nice to see you, too. You'd think I could at least get a hug from my older brother after not having seen you in years," Cole said, attempting to mirror his brother's scowl.

  His brother exhaled heavily, rose from his seat and walked out of the room.

  Cole closed his eyes and hung his head. Things had gone surprisingly smooth with everyone else. Why the hell was Rio always so dramatic? He rose from his seat to follow his brother and found him pacing by the empty playground. It seemed the children were more taken by the clown and party-themed entertainment than the traditional swing and slide.

  "Rio, talk to me," Cole said. He stood just outside of his brother's pacing path with his hands planted on his waist.

  "What do you want me to say?" his brother said, stopping.

  "Anything."

  "Be more specific," Rio said, resuming his pacing.

  Cole exhaled dramatically and looked to the heavens. Why did this always have to be so difficult? He was the baby Renzo. He was the one who should be able to pitch a temper tantrum. Not Rio. He was closest to his brothers Marco and Gus, and to his sister Carmen, but that didn't mean he lacked love and respect for his other brothers. It wasn't Vanni's fault he was an old soul who acted as if he was at least twenty years older than his age. The protective brother of the group was always more of a father figure than a brother. It was his nature to guard, to oversee, and to guide. Their father always worked multiple jobs just to make ends meet so Vanni naturally stepped in and filled the shoes to help their mother keep things running smoothly.

  Rio was the stubborn one. The one who resisted almost everything that came his way. He never made things easy. Ever.

  "Why do you hate me?" Cole said.

  Rio stopped pacing. "Hate you?"

  "You heard me. You've always had a problem with me, ever since we were kids. I've never, ever done anything to make you—"

  "I'm jealous," Rio finally said, almost in a whisper.

  Cole stilled. "What?"

  Rio chewed his lip and shoved his hands in his pockets.

  "Jealous?"

  His brother looked up and immediately looked away again.

  "Of what?" Cole asked. "I'm the fuck-up in the family. You're the award-winning engineer who gets called in by the popular flavor of the month to build something for them. My claim to fame in the family is my record. I'm the fucked up Renzo."

  "Everyone loves you. You walk into a room and it lights up just because you're there. People are drawn to you. You have this…thing…I don't even know what it is."

  Cole crossed his arms and frowned. "I don't know what room you're walking into, but most people want to beat the crap out of me when they first meet me."

  Rio walked up to him. "Because you're so different they don't know what to do with you. People don't usually like different. They're scared of it. And your record, it didn't change you one bit. If anything, it changed you for the better from what I've heard from Mami. You're less reckless, you're thinking things through a bit more, and I don't know how you managed it, but you're happier than you were before." Rio turned away and resumed his pacing, chewing on his thumbnail as he walked back and forth.

  Ty's words suddenly came to mind. You're different and that makes you special.

  Rio stopped again when he neared Cole. "You had this light about you before. Now, it's a screaming spotlight. No amount of schooling, awards, or requests from flavors of the month can ever give me that," he said, glowering. "You've had that spark since the day you were born. All the nurses in the ward went crazy over you. They all fought to hold you. People are drawn to you like a magnet without even trying. Me? I have to try ten times as hard and draw a billion times less people than you. You think it's easy living in your shadow?"

  Cole raised his eyebrows.

  Rio shook his head. "You had a connection with Marco no one else had. You and Gus can cook with Mami like none of us can.
You and Carmen share a brain sometimes on things. Vanni, um—"

  Cole chuckled. "Vanni is Vanni."

  Rio sighed. "The point is, you each have a connection to one another. No one ever comes to me for anything. It's as if I'm on the sidelines."

  "I thought you hated me because you still blamed me for Marco's death—"

  "I never should have said that," Rio said, shaking his head.

  Cole walked up to his brother, his pulse suddenly spiking. "But you did. It wasn't enough that I blamed myself for it, I had to hear that my brother felt the same."

  Rio jerked his head back. "Why did you blame yourself?"

  "For the same fucking reason you said it was my fault. Marco never would have gone into the army if it wasn't for me."

  "I was pissed off when I said that. I didn't mean it," Rio said, taking a step closer.

  Cole pushed his brother away. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he yelled. "You let that fester in me all these years, thinking you hated me for that, too?"

  "You never listen to me. Why the hell would you take that one time to listen to something I said?"

  Cole walked up to his brother, his jaw clenched, holding back the anger boiling within. "I always listened to everything," he said through gritted teeth.

  "No one ever listens to me!"

  "I always did!" Cole's chest heaved with each breath. He looked away, closed his eyes, and tried to control his anger. He paced in the worn grassy path, trying to burn off some of his frustration.

  Rio walked up to him, the concern clearly coloring his expression. "It's not your fault," Rio said, reaching out to him.

  Cole's breath hitched. He remembered that one day too well, when Rio had yelled at him. Those words, still to this day, scorched his soul. His brother's words that night confirmed the blame he carried. He blinked rapidly and tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. He had tried to rationalize away the guilt that weighed heavily in his heart. He had asked Marco to not join, repeatedly. He had begged him to not sign up again when he had returned from a tour. He remembered those days. Remembered those conversations. He almost let the guilt fade, but then, he'd remember Rio's words and how they cut through him like a red hot spear. The words yelled that day had conviction and no hesitation. Renzos never lied. So it must have been the truth. A supposed truth that had weighed Cole down every day since his brother's death.

  Rio reached out and pulled Cole into a frenzied embrace. "I'm so sorry," he whispered desperately. "I'm so sorry. It's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault. I never meant to hurt you like that. I'm so sorry."

  Cole pulled away from the vise grip and pushed his brother away. "Leave me alone," he said, past the choking emotion preventing him from saying anything more. He turned away to wipe the tears that escaped, thankful for Rio's abrupt departure. He lowered his head and tried to silence the hum in his head. His stomach churned as he battled between the rage and the relief. He hated this, hated this weakness. He took a deep, shaky breath, needing to calm the quiver in his muscles. He flexed his hands and screwed his eyes shut. Every day his brother's words haunted him. Every. Fucking. Day. Just when he thought he could try to move on, could live with the fact that Marco had made the decision on his own to join the army or that it was just his time to leave this earth, and that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't the reason Marco had been taken away from him, his brother's words would come back to bite him and nudge him like a red devil sitting on his shoulder, holding him back, preventing him from moving on. His body shook, fighting to hold back the flood of tears begging for release.

  Frail arms wrapped around him from behind. "Mi amor," his mother said, resting her head against his back. "It's not your fault. It was Marco's time to leave us."

  Cole turned and buried his head in his mother's embrace, reveling in the comfort only a mother could provide, and finally letting the tears flow.

  She pulled him back to see his face a few moments later. He sniffled and looked away, not wanting her to see him this way. "Look at me."

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath then finally met his mother's gaze.

  "Come…sit," she said, pulling him to join her on the stone bench. She reached for his hand when he sat and looked off into the distance. "I remember arguing with Marco when he told me he wanted to join the service."

  "I didn't know that," Cole finally said, sniffling.

  His mother tightened her hold on his hand. "We fought for days. I always wondered if I should have fought harder. I was proud of him, but I was always worried about the risk."

  Cole turned to face his mother. A sadness in her expression that hadn't been there a few moments before twisted Cole's stomach. He raised their clasped hands and kissed her delicate skin.

  She looked over to him and smiled weakly. "When someone you love dies, you always wonder if you could have said or done something differently, if that would have changed things. It's part of being human. It's part of caring and loving someone. We know this in our family. It is why the Renzos are the way we are. We love each other very much, but we also know our time in this world will eventually come to an end. When that time comes, we mourn but move on. We remember the time we had and cherish it and the happiness the memories bring. No one will ever take that away from you. You will always have him in your heart. Don't let the grief overshadow your happy memories."

  "It's hard, Mami. I still miss him."

  She patted his hand and reached over to place a kiss on his cheek. "I know, mi amor. You two were inseparable. You were blessed to have that close relationship with him. Many people don't get that chance."

  Cole nodded and took a deep breath. "I know. I just worry. The family was a lot closer when Marco was alive. All of us. I feel as if we're splitting up somehow."

  She rested her head on Cole's shoulder. "Sometimes, that happens and it's no one's fault. People get older, build their own homes and things happen that are out of our control. You each have your own lives now and that just means it takes a little more effort to get together."

  He took a deep breath and let his mother's words sink in.

  "Do you remember what happened to that tree?" his mother asked, pointing to the tilted, oddly shaped tree trunk that offered shade on part of the vacant playground.

  Cole hid a smile, remembering that day as if it were yesterday.

  "C'mon, no one will ever know," an eighteen-year-old Marco said with the ever-present smile on his face.

  "Mami will know. She's got that third eye," an eight-year-old Cole said, gripping the steering wheel in his small hands.

  "You're just driving it around the yard. She'll never think it was you driving the car. Put it in gear and give it a shot," his brother urged, reaching over to snap the seat belt over Cole's small body.

  Cole looked over, startled. "If it's going to be okay, why did you put the belt on?"

  Marco smiled that wicked grin of his. "I'm not risking anything happening to my baby brother. Now c'mon. Hurry up before Mami and Papi get home. Just don't go too fast."

  Cole swallowed heavily, hoping to fill himself with courage. He peeked over the steering wheel, thankful for the phonebook boosting him in the seat, granting him a few inches in height. He stretched his leg and barely reached the brake pedal to shift the car into gear. He reached for the other pedal and pressed the gas too hard, forcing the car to jerk forward. "I'm not doing this right," he said, sounding defeated.

  "You're doing great. Focus. It's easy. Gas to go, brake to stop, don't turn too hard or sharp. Always keep your eyes on the road when driving."

  Cole scowled. "There's no road."

  Marco chuckled and tousled his hair. "Then you make one up in your head. You drive the road, you own it. You visualize the path so it takes you where you need it to go. That's the way you drive on the road and in life. Understand?"

  Cole nodded. He gripped the steering wheel tighter and pressed the accelerator a little softer to ease the car forward. "I'm doing it," he whispered, not wanting to jinx himself.


  "Yeah, you are. Go around the yard," Marco said with a smug, proud, brotherly smile on his face.

  Cole followed his brother's instructions and drove the small hatchback around the yard multiple times, his face hurting from the huge grin that spread from ear to ear. He had been so happy and focused that he hadn't noticed the neighbor's dog race across his imaginary road. He immediately steered the car to the side to avoid hitting the dog and accidently ran the car into the tree. "Oh shit!"

  Marco was laughing so hard Cole thought his brother was going to piss in his pants.

  "Why are you laughing?" Cole said, his heart beating so hard he thought it was going to burst from his chest. His parents were going to kill him.

  "Because we've all hit the same tree when we take the car out for a drive the first time in the backyard. I was hoping you'd break the cycle. C'mon, let's get you out of there before anyone sees you were driving."

  "He swore he was driving that day," Cole's mom said, pulling him from his memory.

  Cole bit his lower lip and sat silently beside her. No way was he revealing he was actually driving. He had managed to keep quiet about that day for more than fifteen years.

  "That was the only time one of my children ever lied to me. He refused to let you get the blame for that and worked extra hours to fix the car," she said with a wistful smile on her face at the memory. She looked over at Cole and raised an eyebrow. "He loved you so much he refused to let anyone lay a finger on you, even though I do know it was you driving that day."

  Cole lowered his head. "How did you know?"

  "A mother knows," she said. "Besides, all of you hit the same tree when learning how to drive," she finished with a smile.

  Cole chuckled. "Marco said the same thing."

  "How many times did you circle the yard before you hit it?" his mother asked curiously.

  "Seven."

  Cole's mother laughed softly. "All the others hit it before making it around once. Marco knew you loved cars. I would have skinned him alive if I knew he was going to teach you to drive so soon. You were too small."