I listened and didn't get offended by his gentle reminder that I was just as responsible for making sure my daughter was cared for as Brynn was.
"You need to have your own things for her," he went on.
I laughed a little. "I know. I'm on it."
He gave me a look, wanting to make sure I was really listening, and then he went back to sanding. A chair that used to be a part of our old kitchen set was in the corner, so I grabbed it, deciding to stay out there for a while. When I sat, my dad glanced over and I noted the serene look he wore.
"I love how our little family just keeps growing. Makes us stronger, you know?" he said with a smile. He kept his eyes on his work when he added, "Nothing pleases me more."
My father and I were a lot alike in many ways and our love of family was one of them.
He glanced over for a moment before his eyes shifted toward the house. "So … I asked you this last time," he said, speaking Spanish as if Brynn would hear our conversation if he didn't. "Are things still coming along?" There was a slick smile on his face when he asked and I smiled back, knowing what he was talking about.
Last time, our discussion about Brynn revealed that I may have had deeper feelings for her than I'd even admitted to myself at the time. It didn't surprise me that my father was revisiting that conversation now. Being big on family, I was sure he was secretly rooting for Brynn and I to come together. He'd never push, but I know him well enough to tell when he's hopeful.
When I nodded, answering his question, he laughed-loud, gruff.
"That makes your old man happy."
I shook my head at how animated he was, leaned back in my seat as thoughts crept in-and maybe a little doubt.
"I uh … I don't mean to pry," he lied, although he meant well, "but … where do the two of you stand now? Still just friends?" he asked. "Or more than friends?" I almost burst out laughing watching him try to be casual. If I had to guess, he was dying over there, trying not to ask a thousand questions.
It was easy to keep things simple with my father, so that's what I did. "More than friends," I admitted, "but no labels. No titles."
He nodded, understanding. "That's good. You two are smart to take things one day at a time." There was something hidden beneath his words, but I didn't catch it right away. It wasn't until several seconds of silence passed that I realized something more was on his mind.
"What is it?" I asked, watching as he set one piece of wood aside and grabbed for another.
A casual shrug came first and then a question. Just one. "Does she know?"
I suppose I was just being naïve, but I honestly didn't know what he meant right away. It took a moment to sink in and then I realized he was asking if Brynn knew I danced.
"I told her."
My father nodded thoughtfully. "And … she's fine with it?"
There was no easy answer to that question. Yes, Brynn seemed to accept me despite how I earned my living, but was she okay with it? That's where things got tricky. The one time we spoke about it, her response was open-ended. I could've made assumptions either way. Honestly, I think she just didn't want to hurt my feelings by telling me the truth, but I had a hunch she wasn't as okay with it as she seemed.
My answer for my father was simply, "I doubt it."
He was silent after that, keeping his immediate thoughts to himself. However, because we're so much alike, I was pretty sure I knew what he was thinking-‘Is my job going to cost me everything and when is enough enough?'
"Well … you didn't ask my opinion, but my suggestion is that you talk to her about it. Find out how she feels and when she shares that, take whatever she says into consideration," he replied.
However, I knew he had more to say than that. "What do you think about it, Pop? How do you think a woman in her position views what I do?"
The piece of sandpaper in his hand went silent when the motions he made with it ceased. His eyes stayed trained on the piece of wood, though, as he took his time crafting a response.
"Putting myself in her shoes, I imagine it isn't easy. I imagine a woman who's with a man who does what you do would probably feel like she's sharing him."
That struck me right in the middle of my chest. One thing Brynn would never have to do is share me. Being real about it, I hadn't been with anyone since she came into my life-even before we started gravitating toward one another. There was the brief situation with Elena, but even with that, I knew deep down that nothing serious would come of it. Somehow, Brynn came in and wiped the slate clean of any other women without demanding it. That was just the way it was.
She was the only one.
Again, I thought about what Elena had to say about me. And as much as I hated to admit it, she was probably right on some level. If Brynn did feel like she had to share me with the women I perform for, the chances of her fully being able to put her heart into this was slim to none. I was counting myself out whether I liked acknowledging it or not. No, she hadn't said this herself and, no, she didn't dump her opinion on me, but I still knew I was spot on.
To sum things up: I realized I couldn't have it all.
"You all right over there?" my father asked, the look of concern on his face deepening.
All I could do was nod, but the truth of the matter was, I wasn't so sure. I wasn't sure about anything right now.
Brynn
Dinner was served and I ate way more than I intended to. The food was so good, though. Mrs. Rios and I prepared a huge pan of pastelón and now that the family had gotten their fill, there was nothing left in the dish but memories.
Full and satisfied, we all sat around the table and chatted. I never got over how they all shared and listened to what was going on in one another's lives. They were so interested, so invested in each component of their unit. I watched them in awe as different ones spoke.
"Oh! Uncle Marco! I meant to call you Friday, but I hung out with my friends and forgot," Rosalina said excitedly, hardly able to keep still in her seat. Marco's eyes went to her and a curious smile spread across his face. "Dad and I have been doing some research online and so has my counselor, but we found quite a bit of scholarship information; even some we all thought I might qualify for. So, I printed everything out, filled out all the paper work, which has taken me like … two full months … and I even wrote a crap-ton of essays," she explained.
"Language," Mrs. Rios said casually.
"Oh, sorry, Abuelita," Rosalina whispered before continuing on at full volume. "Anyway, I've been working on all this for a while, I just wasn't sure it would pan out because, you know, things happen, and … you know … because my grades haven't been great," she rambled. "But it did! It worked out! I got two scholarships. One for minorities and another for women, plus a grant that's gonna cover all my books the first semester."
"Her entire first year of tuition, room, and board are completely taken care of," her mother added with a proud grin, giving a more succinct rendition of Rosalina's story.
The table exploded with excitement when the two finished explaining. Marco got up and gave his niece a huge hug, expressing how proud he was of her for taking such initiative.
"And while everyone is in the mood to celebrate," Mrs. Rios cut in, "I believe Lorna has some good news to share as well."
Lorna flashed a modest smile her mother's way as the room quieted down to listen. "Well, my news isn't as big as Rosie's, but I suppose it's nothing to bat an eye at."
"Tell us already!" Marcela yelled, making the rest of the table chuckle quietly.
"Well," Lorna went on, "You're looking at the new logistics manager," she screeched.
Lucia's eyes got big as she rose up from her seat with her mouth agape. Her arms went around her sister and then Marcela stood and did the same.
"We didn't even know you applied," Mr. Rios cut in after offering his words of congratulations. Lorna explained how she didn't want to get everyone's hopes up before she knew something solid and hearing her reasoning, I realized there was a pattern. Not anything bad, but a definite code by which the Rios family abided by. They all shared their good news, but not without confirmation. They didn't talk just to talk, they were all about action and results. Therefore, they seemed to bring the family into the loop once there was actually something to celebrate. In my head, this all tied into the extreme sense of protection they felt toward one another. In a way, this was the same.
"So, because I'll be getting a raise," Lorna added, shifting her gaze toward Marco, "I'm insisting that you let me cover the last stint of Marcela's schooling. You've done it on your own long enough and now I'm in a position to help, so that's what I'm gonna do." There was a sternness to the look she leveled at Marco, but at the core, there was only love and adoration.