Twenty-Five
W hat do you cook when the woman you orgasmed in the same room with and the cousins who tortured you all throughout high school and are currently avoiding like the plague come over for dinner? According to Marcela, pasta is always a winner. Especially when you don’t really know how to cook to begin with.
“Did Julian say when they were coming over?” she asks as she dusts a pinch of salt into a pot of water.
“Nope.” I hand her the box of penne noodles. “But Krystal should be here in about”—I glance down at the stove clock—“thirty minutes.”
“I’m here for whatever you need when they arrive. Heck, I’ll even use Theo as a diversion if I have to. Do your cousins care about football?”
“They probably won’t recognize him, but Theo’s hot and Briana and Esme are straight, so that should give me a solid half hour of peace. How long does the chicken go in, again?”
Her eyes flick to the oven’s screen. “You know you have to preheat the oven first, right?”
“Shit. How long does it take to preheat?”
“Here.” She knocks my hand away, pressing buttons until the timer is set. “We won’t be ready by the time Krystal gets here, but maybe we’ll have it together by the time your cousins show up.”
She’s at least half right. When the doorbell rings a half hour later, I allow myself to step away from the kitchen to call out, “Come in!” As the door swings open, it occurs to me I have no idea who will be behind it. I cross my fingers until the side of Krystal’s head comes into view, hands in the pockets of her jeans, her bright yellow top like a beacon and brown sandals at her feet.
“You made it!” The relief in my tone is obvious.
“Any reason why I wouldn’t have?” Her expression shifts as her eyes scan me up and down. “What’s wrong?”
How does she do that?
Before I can give her the recap, Theo rises from the couch and juts out his hand. “Nice meeting you again, Krystal.”
“So polite, isn’t he?” Julian has appeared by my side as if by magic. I didn’t even notice him leave the couch. Marcela emerges from the kitchen to greet Krystal, their arms encircling each other tentatively. My best friend is still wary of Krystal, and I haven’t found a moment to try and convince Marcela otherwise. “Feels like I shouldn’t be here.”
I glance over at him, surprised. “What? Why would you say that?”
“This is practically a double date. I’m fifth wheeling, at least until the cousins crash. I would’ve tried harder to ward them off had I known everyone would be here.”
“It’s not a double date.” But it comes out half-hearted, maybe from how much I suddenly want it to be true. “And it definitely won’t be by the time Briana and Esme get here.”
An expression I can’t read passes over his features. Guilt, maybe? I know it’s not his fault the same way I know my cousins. They would’ve found another way to walk all over us. They always do.
“Any chance we can sic the big guy on them when they get here?”
I let out a laugh. “It’s been discussed.”
Krystal meets my gaze across the room and breaks away from my best friend. “So, what’s for dinner? Need any help in the kitchen?”
Oh crap. I have no idea what’s going on in the kitchen right now. Over Krystal’s shoulder, Marcela meets my eye and says, “I got it,” before going to check.
“Should I be concerned about what’ll end up on our plates?” Krystal teases. “You weren’t kidding about the cooking thing, huh?”
“It’s been a long day.” I shrug. “But it’s looking up.”
I hook an arm around Krystal’s shoulders, smiling too wide at all my favorite people assembled together in the same space.
“Don’t talk to me about long days until you start coming home at one a.m.,” Julian groans, flopping back onto the couch.
“Are you a bartender too?” Krystal asks, taking the seat next to him as I plop down beside her.
“Until I graduate.” Julian nods. “At this point, I’m counting down the days until I can finally get a solid eight hours of sleep. I’m exhausted all the time. I don’t know how anyone does this.”
“At least you know what you want to do with your life,” I tell him. “You haven’t had to change careers yet. I almost became a teacher until my last semester of college made me realize I had no idea what I was thinking.”
“I’ll cheers to that,” Theo calls out from the kitchen bar. “It’s a real bitch shifting careers, especially in your thirties. What’s worse is I’m not sure I’m set on coaching for the rest of my life.”
“Really?” I ask, surprised. “Do you have something else in mind?”
“A friend of mine is opening a bar in Dallas. He retired from the team this year and asked if I wanted to invest. I gotta admit, I’m tempted. If I hadn’t moved, we might’ve been opening it together.”
Krystal and I exchange glances, and for the first time in my life I experience what it’s like to have one of those silent conversations you can only have with someone you’ve known for years.
Tell him. My eyes widen at her. Tell him about your idea.
I can’t. She looks back at me like I’ve lost my mind. I barely know the dude.
What can it hurt? I slap at her knee until she shoos me away.
“Is that so?” I ask Theo.
“I minored in business finance.” He takes a swig from his beer. Huh. I didn’t even know I had beers in the house. “Not that that means I have any idea what I’m doing. There’s a lot of trial and error that goes into opening a small business, but it’s less daunting when you’re doing it with someone you trust.”
“What about someone you could grow to trust?”
“Okay, what is going on over there?” It took Theo a lot longer than I thought it would to sense the weirdness between me and Krystal, but now that he has, he raises a brow at us.
Tell him , I mouth at Krystal before slapping her knee again. She grumbles, but finally stands abruptly to face him. “She wants me to tell you that I…” She heaves in a deep sigh. “I actually want to open up my own bar one day.”
He looks at Krystal as if with new eyes. “What kind of bar?”
“I don’t know.” I kick at her feet. Apparently, the only way I know how to show encouragement is through violence. She casts me an annoyed glance before looking back at Theo. “Something unique. When I first started at Havana Bar, I loved the lounge feel to it. The dark, moody furniture. All the candlelight.”
“Her theme is a plant apothecary,” I tell him. “With cute cocktails named after poisonous flowers.”
“Or a greenhouse,” she says, like the idea just came to her. “Imagine a building with floor-to-ceiling windows that mimic a greenhouse, lots of trailing vines, bright neon signs—”
“And poisonous drink names.” His smile spreads wider. “Any ideas for a location?”
“I’m open to whatever price is reasonable, to be honest. As ideal as downtown is, I’m not sure how feasible it’d be.”
They talk through ideas for a few more minutes, until finally Theo asks to exchange contact info. When he returns to the kitchen to help Marcela, I sling an arm around Krystal’s shoulders. She lets out a flabbergasted noise into my chest.
“I think you just snagged a business partner.” Krystal shakes her head at me but doesn’t say a word. “Do you want a tour of the place?”
“Yes, please.”
The living room is sparse except for the faded couch and framed family photos. She picks up each one, asking me to name family members and point myself out to her in group photos. “You were so adorable.” She stares down at my third-grade photo. “You still part your hair the same way.” She fingers the edge of my curls, thumb trailing down my forehead. I resist a shiver at the touch.
“I tried giving myself emo bangs in sixth grade.” I shudder for a different reason now. “You won’t find that photo anywhere, and for good reason.”
Julian makes a coughing sound from the couch. I narrow my eyes at him, remembering his little hunt for embarrassing pictures. There’s no way he could’ve found them. I destroyed them as soon as the order came in over a decade ago. My parents grounded me for two weeks, but it was worth it.
I cast one last glare at him before leading Krystal upstairs. A diagonal line of even more photos greets us—a portrait of my grandparents, a smaller one of my dad and his siblings when they were my age, a group photo of cousins from my mom’s side.
“We should take pictures,” Krystal says, stunning me. “After the tour. Maybe we’ll end up on the wall one day.”
“I’d like that.” I smile at the thought, staring at the pictures on the wall again. “There are a lot of good memories here. The only trouble now is most of my family members have either moved away or made themselves out to be terrible people.”
“What do you mean?”
I glance down at the first level when we reach the landing. Julian is sitting on the couch downstairs, eyes trained on the blaring TV. Theo is helping Marcela in the kitchen, so I don’t feel as bad for abandoning her to make dinner on her own. I’ll make it up to her later.
“How did your family take it when you came out?”
She nods, understanding dawning in her eyes. “My parents were surprisingly okay about it. Other family members… not so much.”
“Julian came out before I did, so I got a firsthand look at what would happen when it was my turn. Once I started to realize I was queer, I couldn’t stop thinking about the shit he went through. But he ended up making the path easier for me to come out. The last thing my parents wanted was more discord, but they made it clear that they supported me no matter who I loved.”
“It must’ve been hard for him, being the first,” Krystal says. “Is that why he lives with you now?”
I nod. “His dad’s an asshole. His mom supports him, but it’s not enough when his parents are still together. They can’t live peacefully under one roof.”
I lean my arms against the railing. “My parents used to host all our family gatherings here, but they stopped last year when a fight broke out between our dads. My dad essentially told his brother he needed to get over himself and take Julian back. Tío Manuel made some wholly distasteful remarks about Julian, his own son, in front of our entire family. I saw everyone’s true colors that day. It didn’t take them long to pick sides.”
“I can’t even imagine what that must’ve been like for him,” Krystal says. “When I finally came out to my mom, she thought that was the reason I broke up with Isaac.” Her mouth twists into a half scowl, half dry smile. “I think she needed a more concrete reason than the one I gave her.”
“Did you ever come out to him?” I ask her. “Did he think the same?”
“I told him a year before we got engaged. That was never a problem for him. My parents and certain family members were the last ones I came out to. I knew how they’d react, which is why I waited for as long as I did.”
“Oh no.” I wince. “Was it really bad?”
“I expected worse.” She shrugs. “My parents are supportive in their own way, but we’re not that close anymore.”
“Really?” I ask her. “Because of what happened with your ex?”
“Yeah.” She lets out a sigh. “I see them every few weeks. We catch up, I get a free meal, and then I leave before they get a chance to bring up my failures. The degree I don’t use, leaving Isaac, why I don’t have a real job yet, et cetera.” She waves a hand. “I stopped paying attention a long time ago.”
“Ah.” I tip my head in a commiserating nod. “I get that. Mostly from my mom, wondering when I’ll start dating and find someone to be with long-term. My dad’s always been content to leave me be, figure out what I want in my own time.”
We don’t want you to be lonely.
Right now, I’m far from that. My heart feels as full as it’s ever felt, flooded by this makeshift family I’ve found for myself. Marcela and Theo, Julian, and Krystal. If Leti’s as cool as Marcela says she is, perhaps her, too, once I’ve figured out my shit when it comes to the scavenger hunt.
And then the doorbell rings.