Tell Me That You're Mine

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Tell Me That You're Mine Page 17

by Victoria De La O


  “I’m n-not asking if you’d w-want them with me . . .”

  She adjusts the strap of her purse on her shoulder. “Yeah, no. I know what you mean. But you have a lot of time to worry about that.”

  That sounds dismissive and like something Jude would say.

  “Sure. I don’t want to start too l-late though, because I want a b-bunch of kids.”

  Her face goes pale, like her blood pressure is dropping. “And how many is a bunch?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. A h-houseful.”

  “Jeez, Ryan.” Eva puts her hands over her face. “You dropped that like a bomb.”

  “Uh huh.” My smile feels like it stretches from one end of the zoo to the other. “You’re one to t-talk, Miss ‘tells me she loves me as we’re pulling up to the curb.’”

  I pull her to me and kiss the stuffing out of her, like we don’t have a care in the world. She doesn’t get to feel that way often enough and neither do I.

  When we pull back and refocus, Eva’s body stiffens. “Where’s Diego?”

  My eyes dart to the zookeeper and the penguins and, sure enough, he’s not there. My heart races.

  “Diego?” I call out. Other parents look in our direction.

  Eva is already moving. She’s glancing around—right and left and then behind her, like she doesn’t know where to start. “Diego,” she yells, tracking back toward the polar bears.

  “Eva, wait,” I call out.

  “Maybe he went this way.” Her eyes are frenzied.

  “Let me help. I can cover more ground f-faster.”

  “Someone needs to stay here in case he comes back or is in this area.” She says.

  “You d-do that. Keep calling out to him.”

  I take off running to the right, while she yells his name and circles the penguins. Every bad thought in the world comes to me—terrifying ideas I’ve never had before. What if someone grabbed him? How many exits are there in this place? Is he scared? I take a deep breath, because panic is not my friend right now.

  I circle back to the polar bears but don’t see him anywhere. It’s doubtful he made it any farther than this.

  And why did he get away in the first place? Because I was distracting his mom.

  I start running in circles, heading back toward the penguins.

  I can hear Eva now, still calling him. He’s still missing

  Behind Eva are the lion enclosures. And he likes to see up close, I remember.

  I run past Eva. The lions are behind thick glass walls that are at least twelve feet high. I don’t see Diego on the side facing me, but there are other areas around the side where someone his size could climb on the sill to get a better view.

  I run all the way around to the back and there he is, standing on a concrete ledge, peering in, his nose to the glass like that helps him see better. He’s not in any danger, so I put my hands on my knees and breathe.

  Found him, I text Eva as I head Diego’s way. Stay put.

  As I come up behind Diego, he sees me in the reflection. I see him, too, including the tears streaking down his cheeks. He doesn’t turn around.

  “You get lost?”

  He shakes his head no.

  “Then why d-did you take off?”

  “Wanted to see the lions.” His chin trembles.

  I crouch down, still behind him. “Why are you crying?”

  “I’m not.” He wipes his tears away.

  “You really scared your m-mom. Why did you hide?”

  That finally makes him turn to me. “If I say, then you can’t tell Mommy.”

  “Diego . . .”

  “Promise not to tell her.”

  I’m not sure if this is a promise I should make, but I want to hear what he has to say.

  “Okay. I won’t t-tell her.”

  He nods. “She didn’t care I was gone. She was kissing you.”

  Ah.

  “Does it bother you when I kiss your m-mom?”

  “You’re not my Daddy! Only he kisses Mommy.” The sudden outburst scares him more than me. His face scrunches, and he starts to cry in earnest.

  I knew it was all too good to be true. The friendship, the stickers, the smiles—those were fine when I was Diego’s tutor. But it’s a whole other ballgame when it’s the guy kissing your mom.

  This, I don’t know how to handle. I don’t remember my mom dating anyone, which means she must have kept it away from us. I hope so, because otherwise that means she was alone.

  Maybe once he has time to settle down and get used to the idea, he’ll be okay.

  Except when I scoop him up and take him back to Eva, he goes stiff in my arms and cries even harder. She runs up to comfort him, probably assuming he’s crying because he was lost. I let her believe that as she buys him an ice cream, takes him to the monkey exhibit, and finally, straps him in the car.

  By the time we get home, it’s time for Diego’s bath.

  “I’m so sorry,” she says, coming out of the bathroom, where he’s still soaping up. “Thank you for finding him.”

  Now she’s grateful, for Christ’s sake, when I’m the reason he ran in the first place. And still, I don’t tell her what he said because I don’t want to break his trust.

  It felt so good to be part of their family for a day. It was like I imagined it would be, but more.

  Except Diego’s right: I’m not his dad. I’m a distraction at best. And at worst, I’m a threat to his happiness.

  * * *

  I cancel Diego’s tutoring that week and lay low, convincing myself it’s in his best interest. It’ll give him time to cool down.

  Friday evening, I come home from work just in time to see Marco doing pick-up. I’m sure Diego will have plenty to tell his dad this weekend.

  “I’m fine,” Marco is telling Eva, but he looks angry.

  I slow down so I can listen as I walk up the driveway.

  “You seem really agitated,” Eva says. “What’s wrong?”

  Marco’s mouth turns down in a sneer. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re going to turn my kid against me and give him a new dad, and you’re asking that?”

  “Marco, this isn’t you. What’s going on?”

  Diego runs to the front door. “Come on, Dad, let’s go.” He pulls on Marco’s hand and leads him away from the house, as Eva stands there looking concerned.

  I try to hurry up the driveway, but Marco sees me before I can get out of view.

  “Have fun with my wife this weekend,” he yells at me.

  Asshole.

  Diego eyes dart between me and Marco, his back straightening like he’s on high alert.

  “See you soon,” I tell Diego in the most normal voice possible, and then I hurry away.

  I hear Marco’s car pull away as I put my key in my lock. Moments later, Eva intercepts me.

  “Sorry about that. He’s more upset than usual.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m worried he’s relapsing.”

  I shove the door open and we head inside.

  “I g-get that.”

  “I’m going to give my therapist a call.”

  I nod, but don’t comment.

  She tilts her head and looks at me. “Are you okay? You’ve been weird since the zoo.”

  “There’s a lot g-going on.”

  Or not, depending on how you look at it. The number of people who are speaking to me is dwindling by the day. This is the longest I’ve gone without any communication with Jude, my father never called to say he was sorry for not showing, and now I have a six-year-old who hates me.

  “I haven’t seen Brett and Jim over in a while,” she says.

  “We’ve all been b-busy, I guess.” It’s more accurate to say they’ve been busy going out as a foursome, while I try to figure out how to work me and Eva into their lives.

  “You mean I’ve been sucking up all your free time.”

  I shrug. “I’m where I w-want to be.”

  “You had a life before me, and I want to be p
art of it. We can make time to hang out with your friends.”

  “I f-feel like I’d be distracting you from more important stuff.”

  “Definitely not. It’s just that things with Marco are spiraling and I might need to intervene. Talk to his parents, maybe.”

  I go to the fridge to get a drink, but I open it too hard and the bottles inside rattle. “That’s exactly what I mean. At what point is he n-not your responsibility?”

  She twists the hem of her sweater. “He’s Diego’s dad.”

  “I know. But he’s not your h-husband. What are the boundaries?” I slam the fridge shut without bothering with a drink.

  Her eyes widen. “As long as he’s around Diego, I need to make sure he’s well. That’s my job.”

  “And if he’s not? Is it your j-job to fix him, too?”

  “No. But I’ll do what I can.”

  I drop into the chair across from her and put my head in my hands. It weighs a thousand pounds. “So that will always b-be your role? Looking after him?”

  She throws her hands up in the air. “That’s not fair, Ryan. It’s a shitty situation, and I’m doing the best I can.”

  “Yes, but Marco and his family should b-be the ones in charge of his m-mental health.”

  She stands up, as though I’ve hit her with a cattle prod. “You don’t think I want that? You don’t think I’m sick of all of this? The walking on eggshells? I want to live a normal life where I’m not worried every fucking day.”

  I rub my eyes. Maybe if I rub hard enough, this day—this week—will go away. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  She crosses her arms and cocks her hip—her classic angry pose. “What is this really about?”

  I stand up, but I don’t touch her. If I do, I’ll give in. “I know I can never be first in your l-life. But I wish I didn’t feel like a d-distant third.”

  I know that arrow finds its mark, because she ducks her head.

  I don’t care if it’s childish. I don’t even care if it’s fair. For once, I want to feel like I’m out in front. Like someone chose me above every other option on the table.

  I’m scared—really scared—that Eva’s table is just too crowded.

  Chapter 24: Eva

  People are staring at me as I walk down the rows of cubicles, I’m sure of it. I only wish I could chalk it up to paranoia. More likely, word has finally gotten out about my incident with Cara.

  I completed all of the meetings and “workplace conduct” seminars with human resources. In a nutshell, they wanted to make sure no one would sue them. The upside was that I got to show them Cara’s text to my phone and the excessive number of emails she’d written, so she didn’t come off any better in this than I did.

  All because Cara didn’t have the maturity to know how to handle me and ran to the people in charge.

  The problem is that our little scuffle has broken up the monotony and become this week’s hot topic.

  “Hi, Eva,” Tiffany says, her eyes darting elsewhere. She doesn’t stop and chat, even though we started working at Jericho at the same time and were even in orientation together.

  If the stares hadn’t clued me in that someone spilled the beans, her avoidance would have.

  Everybody has already made their judgments. Some of those will come out in my favor, some in Cara’s. It doesn’t matter either way, because I’m not happy here and I should have called it quits a long time ago.

  The idea of swapping this place for another just like it is suffocating. So at night, when no one’s around, I write my business plan. The idea of going out on my own fills me with such fear that I can only work on it a bit at a time. Like Ryan said: step by step.

  How’s it going today? Ryan texts me after lunch.

  I’m surprised how much I needed to hear from him. Things are tense between us, and I’m terrified our relationship won’t hold up under the strain. So knowing he’s thinking about me means everything.

  I send him five poop emojis.

  Did Diego type that? he writes.

  That elicits a much-needed giggle.

  I hate how tense things have been between us lately, like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. I need to do a better job of showing him that he’s just as important as the other pieces of my life—more so, with the exception of Diego and my family.

  Don’t forget to leave early, he writes.

  We’re meeting Ryan’s coworkers tonight for a Christmas dinner party, so I need to get home soon to change.

  I make a few more phone calls, check off a couple more items on my to-do list, and then I’m rushing out the door.

  I’m in the parking lot when another text comes in. I pull my phone out, assuming it’s Ryan.

  It’s from Marco.

  Diego said he ran and hid at the zoo because you were so busy screwing around with your new boyfriend.

  I keep walking, dialing Marco’s number as I veer toward my car. This isn’t a conversation to have over text, and I need to hear Marco’s voice to understand what frame of mind he’s in.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask when he picks up. “He got lost.”

  “That’s not what he says. He told me he ran on purpose.”

  “That’s not true. I took my eyes off him for two seconds and he wandered off. It could have happened to anyone.”

  “Yeah, well it never happened before Ryan.”

  “This has nothing to do with him.”

  “If you don’t have time for Diego, I’m happy to raise him myself.”

  My hand is shaking as I fish around in my purse for my keys. “How can you say that? After everything we’ve been through.”

  “You lied to me. Made me think we’d be a family again.” Marco’s voice is shaking with anger. He sounds off balance and irrational. Like he did before.

  “I told you from the beginning we were never getting back together. You need to stop listening to your family and admit we grew apart years ago.”

  “Maybe that whole time you just wanted to screw other men.”

  “Are you off your medication?” I don’t have time to beat around the bush.

  “No.”

  “Tell me the truth.” I forget about the keys and switch my phone to my other hand. The one I’m holding the phone in is cramping.

  “Fuck you, Eva. You’re not perfect, either.”

  “Marco, call your doctor right now.”

  “You were never going to give me a fair shot.”

  “This isn’t about you and me. It’s about Diego. He’s counting on you to stay healthy.”

  “What’s the point?” Marco’s voice sounds raw and aching. “I’ll never be able to get back what I lost.”

  “You haven’t lost him. He needs you.”

  Marco is silent, but he hasn’t hung up.

  “You’re not thinking straight. Please call your doctor.”

  “Maybe, I guess.”

  “Marco, please.” I’m practically begging him, and I don’t care. Guilt swamps me as I realize I’ve done this to him—brought him to his knees.

  “Talk to you later.”

  “Marco—” He’s already hung up.

  I manage to find my keys and make inside my car, where I’ll have some privacy. I scroll through my contacts, praying for strength to get through the next call I have to make.

  “Sofia, it’s Eva.” As if I need to announce myself. My ringtone in her phone is probably The Exorcist music.

  “I know. Is everything okay with Diego?”

  She knows I’d only be calling for an emergency. “It’s about Marco.”

  “I don’t have anything to discuss with you.” Her voice could re-freeze a melting glacier.

  “He admitted he’s off his meds. He’s completely unstable and angry.”

  “Of course he’s angry. His wife is with another man.”

  I grip the steering wheel with one hand. “His ex-wife.”

  “Because you couldn’t keep your promise when he needed you most.”

&nb
sp; No way will I go down this rabbit hole. I take a deep breath and steer the conversation back on track. Whatever I paid my therapist probably wasn’t enough.

  “Your son isn’t well.”

  Sofia is breathing heavily, her icy composure slipping. “Haven’t you done enough? You broke his heart. And if he’s sick again, it’s because you broke his will.”

  “Not once did you support me when I said he needed help, until it was too late. That’s about to happen again. Do you want him to hurt someone else? End up back in jail?”

  She hangs up on me, and I drop my phone to the ground like there’s anthrax on it.

  I understand he’s her baby. I get that she needs someone to blame. But I can’t handle being the bad guy anymore, especially when a nasty piece of me agrees with her.

  Five minutes; that’s all I allow myself for wallowing and shaking, and then I start my car. A glance at the clock has me swearing: I’m a half hour late to meet Ryan.

  * * *

  “Where have you been?” Ryan asks when I finally get home and rush through the door. “I already dropped Diego off at your parents’ house.”

  “It’s a long story and there was traffic. Let me go change really quickly.”

  “We’re already l-late . . .”

  “We can make it.”

  I run into my room and grab the dress I was going to wear, but it’s wrinkled and I need to iron it. I search frantically through my clothes to find something else. My heart tells me this is important to Ryan, but my mind is screaming that I need to do something about Marco right now.

  “What’s g-going on?” Ryan asks, coming into my room.

  “Nothing.”

  “It’s obviously s-something. You’re practically shaking.”

  I drop the black shirt I’m holding onto the floor. “Marco called. He’s off his meds.”

  “And that’s why you’re late?” He looks like he’s biting back his next words.

  I tell him about the call with Sofia and her accusations.

  He sits down on the bed. “You haven’t d-done anything wrong.”

  I grab a dress off a hanger and swap it out for my work clothes. “I know.”

  “I don’t think you d-do.”

  “I just feel like I need to do more if Sofia doesn’t intervene.”

  Ryan nods. “Yeah. Obviously Marco c-can’t be around Diego when he’s like this. You’ll need to get his v-visitation rights suspended. ”

 

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