"Dinner at the family abode," Max said with a shake of his head as paused next to Flor and leaned in to assess his work. "I don't envy you that."
"As long as Art doesn't hit me again, I think I can deal," Flor said, trying to keep his voice light. But there was, somewhere deep down in there, an undercurrent of hope and desperation. He wanted his mom back; I wanted my dad back. I prayed to whatever gods would listen that tonight was the night. Couldn't quite imagine my dad smiling over the dinner table at me and Flor, but I prayed anyway.
"Do you think this is … do you think they're going to forgive us?"
Flor shrugged slightly but kept his attention focused on his work, wiping at the tattoo and starting in on the unicorn's horn.
"There's nothing to forgive, Abi," he said, but he didn't entirely sound like he believed that.
I sighed and turned around, leaning against the counter and trying not to daydream about Flor and me doing it right here, in this shop. Not the best time for dirty thoughts, not with family stuff clogging up the radar. At least Gram Gram was cool with our being together. She'd actually sent us both a check for thirty-nine bucks, the sum of our ages. Oh, and the memo line had read great grandchild please.
My lips quirked a little, but the expression died quickly. If this conversation went south, like the other one had, then I was potentially homeless. And so were Addi and Patrick. And I wouldn't have enough money to stay in school. Flor could support us okay, but I wanted an education. I wanted to stay in my apartment.
I wanted our family back.
When Flor and I arrived at our parents' house, the front door was unlocked and my stepmom's appetizers were overflowing the kitchen counter and spilling onto the table in the dining room. On the entryway table was a photo album, filled with pictures of me and Flor. It was open to one of us in high school, sitting on the edge of the dock at the lake, staring at each other. Looking at that picture now, I couldn't help but be embarrassed. The expression on my face was … I don't know how anyone could've missed my affection for Florian, even then.
He let his fingers graze the page and reached out to take my hand, leading me into the kitchen where my father and my stepmother waited.
When we walked in, her eyes flicked to our joined hands, but at least she smiled at us. My dad kept a neutral expression.
"Hi," I said. It was the only word I could come up with. I wanted to say sorry or something, let her know how bad I felt about the baby, but I didn't know how to bring it up.
"Sit down," my dad said, his eyes following Flor like a hawk. He didn't seem particularly happy to have him here, but he wasn't throwing punches either.
I settled myself on a stool while Florian stood behind me.
"What are we doing here?" he asked, cutting right through the bullshit and straight to the point. Typical Flor behavior, as usual. His mom's eyes clouded with tears for a minute, but she wiped them away with the corner of her apron and put yet another culinary masterpiece on the counter in front of me.
"Your father – " River paused and rephrased her words, ever the psychologist. "Art and I wanted to talk to the two of you. I know it's been a while, too long, since we had a moment together."
"You mean since you shunned us," Flor snapped and she cringed. My dad rose to his feet, but she held out a hand to stop him from saying anything, focusing her green eyes on her son's. Maybe she could sense as well as I could that if Flor and my father got into another fistfight, their relationship would never recover.
"Losing that baby was one of the most difficult things that I've ever been through," she said, her voice weakening for a moment. But then she inhaled like she was drawing strength from the situation. "The only thing worse than that, Flor, was losing you."
Florian glanced away like he didn't care, but I knew he did.
"Losing one child made us realize how stupid we were to risk losing two more."
My chest felt tight, but I didn't know what to say to that. Flor, however, was never one to suffer from a loss for words.
"Pretty words, Mom, but what does that mean really? Are you saying you'll take us as we are? Or as you wish we were?"
"I'm saying I don't understand yet, but I'm trying to. As long as this is more than just a sexual fling," River paused as my father snorted and then continued, "we'd like to give you two the chance to work things out."
Flor slid an arm around my waist, sending hot thrills through my blood, and my dad bristled like he'd been shot. His blue eyes focused first on my face and then on Flor's.
"Don't feel up my daughter in front of me," he said and Flor stiffened, but I wouldn't let them fight this time. I reached up and touched my fingers to the tattoos on Flor's forearm.
"Dad, he's not feeling me up. He loves me, and I love him. I thought those would be the most difficult words I'd ever say to you, but they're not. They're the easiest. Maybe you and River getting together was fate? Maybe Flor and I were supposed to meet?"
"And then when you're done playing together, when he breaks up with you or cheats on you, then what?" my dad asked, and at the very least, I could tell he'd put some thought into it. And he was right. If we did break up (not gonna happen), then it could cause a rift in the family. Still, the possibility of future failure was not enough to deter me. I leaned into Florian.
"Dad, first you're telling me how horrible it would be if we got married or had kids and now you're telling me how horrible it would be if we broke up?" He didn't respond and pulled his glasses from his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Flor and I aren't just screwing around and we're not trying to hurt you. I know how unconventional this is, but just because something has never been done or isn't often done doesn't make it bad. All I'm asking is for you to accept us as we are now so we can keep this family together."
My father turned away and I felt my heart start to break in two. If I was right, if he still blamed me for the loss of his baby, then we'd never get through this.
"I feel like you lied to me, Abigail," my dad said, still not looking at me, staring at the cabinet where I thought the fridge might be (though I wasn't sure). "Girls get crushes on their older brothers all the time. It's normal to look up to people in your family, but nobody acts on it. It isn't right." He finally turned around, a frown creasing up his face. I glanced at River who had eyes only for her son and I wondered. Did she love him more than my father loved me? I didn't want to believe that. "If you'd come to me, if you'd told me, we could've worked through this."
I felt Florian stiffen behind me, but I wouldn't let the moment get away from us, not like this. I stayed in his arms, let his presence comfort me, and took a deep breath.
"That's not how this works, Dad. This isn't a problem or a mistake or an accident." I glanced over at River again. "And it's not a tragedy. We … Flor and I didn't want you to lose your baby either."
Silence settled on the kitchen and I wondered if I'd said the wrong thing. Had the possibility of a shared sibling been a hardship on Flor and me? Yes, it had. But like I'd told Flor before, you can't wave a magic wand and make that kind of stuff go away. If love had no hardships, if it was easy, then it wouldn't be worth so much.
"I know," my father said, voice strangely soft. When he looked at me, I found myself staring into the same shade of blue that I saw in the mirror everyday. My eyes were really the only part of me that looked like him. The rest, I guessed, was from a mother I'd never know. My dad had said she was from Latin America, but that left a lot of countries and a lot of questions that even he didn't know the answers to. I wondered if his mistakes in love were what made him so fearful for me. "You're not cruel, Abi." He took a deep breath and, reluctantly, glanced up at my stepbrother. "And neither is Florian." The words rang with truth, even if he didn't look happy to be saying them. "It took me some time, but I realize that what happened was not your fault."
I felt a well of hope spring in my chest.
"But that doesn't mean I'm okay with the rest of it." My heart dropped as Flor squeezed me tighter, breathed warm against my hair. My dad's eyes narrowed in on us like he was staring through a magnifying glass, studying, analyzing. It was what he did best, after all. "But I'm also not okay with losing my daughter either. Florian, I know I've never really been able to accept you as a son, and I'm sorry for that, but I'm willing to try out a new relationship with you. This time, I'll look at you not as a child, but as a man. You're going to need to prove yourself to me."