She was shaking her head, protesting before I even finished speaking. "Because you already do too much. For me. For everyone. I knew if I said something you'd come to my rescue," she added, flashing me a soft smile. "Besides, Dad's … ‘gross, ancient' car will suit me just fine until I can afford better," she concluded.
All eyes were on me and I knew what they were thinking. They had all, on separate occasions, made it known that they often didn't tell me about things going on in their lives because they hated that I always felt obligated to fix them. But, to me, that's what family was for. I worked hard for a reason. Growing up in the Second Ward, we had it rough. As soon as I could get a job, I did, and as soon as I could work two at the same time, I did that, too. My family, everyone in it, was hard working. So it wasn't like I was supporting a bunch of lazy adults. No, they were all working toward something and the way I saw it, I was in a position to help, so I always did.
Wiping my mouth, I stood from the table and reached down inside my back pocket for my wallet, ignoring my sister's previous statement when I asked, "How much?"
"Marco, no," Marcela said calmly, placing a hand on my wrist to stop me. I looked at her, seeing it in her eyes that she really didn't want this. "You're already doing enough," she said, adding, "Actually, you're doing too much."
Everyone around the table agreed, some with silent nods others vocalizing their opinions.
"We love you," Lucia spoke up as I took my seat again, feeling off about not helping Marcela when I was perfectly capable of doing so. "But none of us feel good knowing that … you do what you do … basically because of us. I mean, hell … wanting to carry all of us was the whole reason you started working at that godforsaken club in the first place."
To the average person, those words would've sounded judgmental, but not to me. I knew where Lucia was coming from because my family was very open about everything. They knew some of the things I'd seen working at Indecent Exposure over the years, but I kept myself away from that side of the industry. The guys I was close to weren't involved in it either so, for me, it was sometimes like those things didn't go on. I learned to be blind to them. So, while I heard my sister loud and clear, I didn't hate my job. Never had. The money was good. The money was easy. And I was damn good at what I did.
The room was silent. Completely. When I glanced up, my father's head was down and he wasn't eating anymore. When he excused himself from the table, I was pretty sure I knew why. He, too, hated what I did for a living, but for different reasons than the women in our family. To him, my occupation meant he'd failed. When Lucia made the statement that I only got into dancing to take care of them, that was one-hundred percent true.
Years ago, our father had a pretty heavy dependency on alcohol. He gambled hard, too. Between those two vices, he wasn't much of a provider or father. He went for help when I was about nineteen, but I'd already started dancing by then. I got tired of my mother and sisters always needing something and no one being able to give them those things. My father tried his damnedest to be the one to be there for them, to get back on his feet, but it took time.
We'd all forgiven him a long time ago for the hell he turned our childhood into, but he hadn't forgiven himself.
"I'll go check on him," I announced, standing from my seat.
As I crossed the kitchen, the back door closed and I opened it again just as my father was stepping down from the porch. He stopped in the grass, folding his arms across his chest while he thought. I approached slowly, shoving my hands deep inside the pockets of my jeans.
My dad and I were close despite all our family had been through. We weren't people to hold grudges or dwell on one another's past mistakes, but like I said … this all still weighed very heavily on him.
"You all right?"
He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of my voice and forced a dim smile. "Ah, don't worry about me," he said, dropping his gaze to the ground.
I closed the last of the distance between us and stood at his side, staring at the fence.
"The past is the past," I reminded him, thinking he might just need to hear it.
He nodded. "Yeah … I know. I just wish I'd been better for you kids. You deserved me at my best."
I wouldn't lie and pretend like things weren't hard growing up, because they were. Damn hard. However, the man I was standing next to today didn't deserve to pay for things the man I knew several years ago had done. The two had very little in common. They were almost separate people.
I placed a hand on my father's shoulder and shook him a little. "Despite whatever you think you did wrong, we all came out all right," I assured him, smiling a bit.
He chuckled. "Yeah … I suppose you're right." There was a long pause and then he added, "Thank you."
I glanced at him, confused. "For?"
"For taking care of your sisters, your mother, when I couldn't." Those words hit me hard and I didn't respond. "Sometimes, I wonder where they'd all be if you hadn't stepped up to be the man of the family."
We'd had several discussions about this, but he'd never said these things to me.
"Thank you. That means a lot," I replied.
"And I know it's not the same, but I do everything I can to be the best grandfather I can to Rosalina and Isobel. It won't change the past, but it's the only second chance I have, you know?"
I nodded, understanding what he meant.
"And one day when you and Lorna decide to start families of your own, I'll be there for your kids just like I am for Lucia's and Marcela's girls." He looked over to make sure I heard him. "That's a promise, Marco. I mean it from the bottom of my heart."
There wasn't a doubt in my mind.
Seeing as how the subject of me having children came up all on its own, I decided to let my father be the first person I told my news to.
"Well, what would you say if I said you might not have to wait long to make good on that promise?"
Confusion filled my father's expression and lingered there for a moment, but when I smiled at him, a look of knowing spread. His large hands clasped together as he scanned my face and I nodded, letting him know I meant exactly what he was thinking. His eyes tinged with pink where white should've been and I was sure they watered a little, but he was too proud a man to cry.
The tightest hug I'd ever received in my life was his reaction. I gripped him, too, hearing a gruff laugh bellow from his mouth. He stood back, holding both my shoulders in his hands. He looked me over with disbelief in his eyes, smiling big.
"Yeah?" he asked, not finding any other words at the moment.
I laughed and nodded. "Yeah. Just found out for sure a couple days ago."
He embraced me hard again and then let go.
"I uh … I'm shocked! We didn't even realize you were seeing anyone."
I shrugged and scrubbed a hand across my chin while I thought of how to tell him that I wasn't seeing anyone, but then he grabbed me again, only my shoulders this time, pride behind his eyes. "I'm happy. New additions are always welcome in the Rios family."
I couldn't have asked for a better response. I knew he had several questions, but he didn't ruin this moment by asking them. They could wait for later; besides, I was sure Ma and my sisters would ask them all in a few minutes anyway once I broke the news to them, too.
My father and I headed back inside to face the women, but I felt better knowing he had my back.
"Val? Girls? Max?" he called out, closing the door behind us with a huge grin on his face. "Marco's got something to share." He placed a hand on my back and walked me toward the dining room where we'd just eaten. "And I sure hope you're still sitting down."
My nieces were excused to the living room where they ate dessert in front of the television so the rest of us could talk in private. I waited until they were out of earshot before telling my family about Brynn, about the baby. My father stood beside me the whole time, nothing but supportive. When I finally got it out, I honestly expected all of my sisters to get on my case to some degree, but mostly there was just silence after my announcement.
The facial expressions around the room ranged from shocked to upset to confused, but no one really had much to say. I knew this news came as a surprise to them; however, what's done was done by this point. The only thing any of us could do was move forward.
There were weak words of congratulations, but whatever they were really thinking they kept to themselves. Maybe they were waiting until later to discuss me over the phone, behind my back, instead of to my face.