Chapter 12 TARAN
Later that evening, Diego texted to ask if Toni could have my number. Fifteen minutes later, she called. “I’m sorry. I was out of pocket with that shit about power and control and resources.”
“Maybe,” I said. I’d been thinking it all day. “But you weren’t totally wrong.”
“He’s not power playing you. He’s just scared.”
“That’s… normal.” I was mildly terrified at all times, concerning Diego. All relationships, especially romantic ones, felt like walking a knife’s edge between fear and excitement. But this one was jacked all the way up to eleven. Felt like it always had been, with him.
“Exactly. I mean, normal for normal people. People not me. But I mean it, and I’m sorry.”
“Thanks,” I said sincerely. Hadn’t expected that, but in retrospect it made sense. “I told him I’d never fault you for loving him.”
“Heh. Yeah. But I could love him in a way that’s less aggressive toward other people who might love him. Or whatever.”
“Thanks. Really.”
With that settled, I felt a little better about how things went down at Picklesburgh, but not one-hundred percent.
I tried to work out why as I spent my Saturday night playing video games and catching up on my podcasts.
What was it about Toni’s whole rant that had gotten under my skin?
Had it hit something true, and therefore raw?
For all Diego and I had talked about our past shit, had come to an understanding, given each other some actual closure, and decided to move forward…
part of him was hesitating. Out of fear, yeah, and that was normal. And relatable.
Unfortunately, the podcast episode was about Katherine Howard, Henry VIII’s fifth and penultimate wife.
And how he refused to crown her until she gave him a son.
But he had her beheaded for treason before she even turned eighteen, so she never got the chance.
So that was both a bummer and unexpectedly topical.
It was… not disappointing but sobering, I guess, to think Diego didn’t feel the same as I did.
Which was totally conjecture, but why else would he be hesitating?
Why else would that advice have stuck with him—enough that he had me on hold for two months after I first told him, “I want to be your boyfriend.”
Of course, that was all true before I knew that’d been Toni’s advice and not a spontaneous thing from him. And maybe that felt bad, too, in a childish way. That he believed her and not me. Which was dumb as hell, because of course he believed his best friend since elementary school.
Trying to process it left me in knots, so I decided to sleep on it.
***
Diego took the brunch shift on Sunday, then drove out to pick me up. Instead of waiting for me in the car, he came to my door. When I opened it, he was standing there biting his bottom lip, highlighter sparkling on his cheekbones, curls falling into his eyes.
The way my heart sped up, the way I wanted to wrap my arms around him and kiss him until neither of us could breathe right there on the spot, told me everything I needed to know.
It didn’t matter if he was afraid, or if he was playing some power game in his head, or if he thought of me as totally disposable. Maybe because I didn’t really believe it was either of those last two things. Maybe just because I didn’t care, as long as he let me stay with him.
Pathetic? Yeah, for sure. But also illuminating. I knew I was a simp, but it was good to know the full measure of my simpdom.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, big eyes serious and heavy-lidded. “It won’t happen again. And if you don’t want her to come to dinner—”
“It’s your birthday,” I reminded him, taking a step forward, then halting.
He threw himself at me, and I caught him around the waist. “My birthday’s tomorrow.”
“I know.” I smiled against his ear. “But you get the whole week.”
“You’re creating a monster,” he murmured.
“Feeding the monster, maybe,” I corrected with a chuckle. I nuzzled at his face, and he tilted his to catch my mouth with his. The rush of heat tangled up with a sense of relief as we kissed on my front step, and I knew if this went on too long, we were gonna be very, very late for dinner.
I bit at his bottom lip playfully, and when he pulled away laughing, I said, “Let’s go, before I drag the monster inside and have my way with him.”
He shivered against me, and for a second I thought I’d fucked up. But then he shoved his face into my neck and nibbled at it. “Tonight?”
“Tonight,” I promised.
***
The brick duplex Diego’s dad and stepmother owned had a storybook look to it, like some of the older buildings in town. The porch railings were cast iron, one of them sporting a progressive pride flag, both the doors decorated with standard-issue crafty wreaths.
Where moms got that stuff, I had no idea, but Annie Marsh clearly had the same dealer as Mary Kovacs. My mom had one for every week of the year, I was pretty sure.
Kelly popped her head out the front door of the pride flag house, then waved and smiled.
“You ready for this?” Diego asked with a crooked smile.
“Oh, I’m ready. Parents love me.” I grinned.
He rolled his eyes and slipped out the car door, and the madness officially began.
At first, it was just Kelly telling me I looked like I gave good hugs, and could she get one.
But then Annie decided she wanted one, and by the time I got to Diego’s dad, I was a little bit rumpled from hugging all the women in the house.
(So far, no Kacey. Hated to think it, but thank god.) I held out my hand and said, as respectfully as I could while flushing slightly, “Mr. Marsh.”
He took my hand and squeezed it while we shook. That was what my dad would’ve called a firm handshake, all right. I couldn’t look at Diego, because if I did, I would laugh out loud. And that was not the impression I was trying to make.
“You can call me Val. I graduated with your father,” Mr. Marsh said. “Good man.”
“Thank you, sir.” My dad thought your family was absolute garbage, I didn’t add. And he’d probably thought my dad was a stuck-up prick. Nice of him not to say that, too.
“Miss him on the sidelines at home games still,” he added as he let my hand go.
And that, at least, made me smile genuinely. Even after I graduated, he was into those Friday Night Lights, that was for damn sure.
Sad? I don’t know. Maybe. But everyone needs a hobby.
“Yeah, Mom doesn’t go unless it’s homecoming,” I said.
“You ever go?”
I shook my head. “But she keeps me updated.”
“Could use an assistant coach,” he said, eying me up and down.
“Ooookay, we’re not talking about Stanley County football all night, Dad,” Diego cut in with a little smirk, taking my arm.
Mr. Marsh—Val smiled. His eyes were a little bit hazel, not as bright and green as Diego’s, but still a nice contrast with his dark, rich skin and hair. He was a good-looking guy, actually. Funny, how I used to think he, my dad, all the dads looked ancient just a few years ago.
Couldn’t wait to irritate Diego by telling him his dad was hot.
Annie was clearly the center of the household, though, directing traffic and conversation, making sure everyone had a drink in hand, settling us all in the living room.
She told the speaker to play some music, and pop spilled out into the cozy room.
Tom cornered me and asked how business was—he was a finance guy, apparently, and looking for a new job, and Diego sat next to Kelly and described plans for tomorrow’s party.
Diego kept shooting me worried looks, like he thought I might need rescued from his relatives. I just kept smiling encouragingly, chatting with Tom, then telling Annie dinner smelled great, and could I help with anything?
And then the door burst open and Kacey lumbered through, her nose bright red, her eyes watery, and said, “I made it!”
Annie jumped up. “Oh my god, honey, no!”
I looked around for some help; last I heard, everyone was coming tonight. Including Kacey. I’d been warned to prepare for inevitable drama.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Kelly said with a frown.
“What’d you do?” Diego asked with a snort.
Kacey shot him a vicious look, shrugging off a cropped knit sweater it was way too hot for. “Nothing. I just had a little cold.”
“You look like shit,” Tom said, deadpan.
I had to take a drink from my iced tea to keep from laughing.
Diego and Kelly weren’t anywhere near as polite, both of them having some version of an outburst on either side of the room.
“Thanks, bro,” Kacey said sarcastically. Then coughed into her sleeve.
I shot Diego a look. He rolled his eyes and shook his head.
Annie went to Kacey at the door, saying something under her voice so the rest of us wouldn’t hear, and Kacey whined back at her.
“Great. Can’t wait to have coronavirus for the rest of the summer,” Tom said into his drink.
“She has covid?” I had all my shots, but after a few rounds with it early on in the pandemic, no thanks.
He shook his head. “She swears she got tested and it’s just a cold. She was supposed to stay home.”
“But how could she make herself the center of attention if she misses my birthday?” Diego asked sweetly, coming up beside us. “God. You wanna go?” he asked me.
Tom raised his eyebrows. “That’ll be a whole thing.”
“So we all have to get sick because she couldn’t stand not coming?” Diego said.
“That’s usually how it works, with her,” Tom commented.
Kacey was crying now, hugging her mom and saying something wetly.
“Aaaand there’s the waterworks,” Diego said. “Right on schedule.”
“It’s your call,” I said with a little shrug. “If it was my family, it’d be mine, but…”
Annie interrupted with, “Okay, everyone, I’m just gonna set Kacey up on the couch here. You all go ahead into the dining room; table’s set.”
Diego sighed. “Fuck it.” He pulled me away from Kacey as Annie helped her to the couch, leading the way into the living room.
Kelly went straight for the ice bucket on the table, pulled out a bottle of prosecco, and popped it. “We’re gonna need this,” she said under her breath.