25. Lina
TWENTY-FIVE
Lina
“Are you fucking kidding me ?!” I’m screaming. “Get the fuck out of here!”
“ Mija , relax,” Mai is saying.
“You’re telling me he just dies ?!” I say, outraged, pointing to the television, where the season finale of our K-Drama just ended. “You’re telling me she spent ten years of her life in a shitty relationship and then only gets to spend like three weeks with the love of her life?!”
“It’s beautiful, I think,” Mai responds, dabbing at the corners of her eyes. “She had incredible character growth. She’s now an independent woman who don’t need no man.”
“That’s trash ,” I insist. “That’s fine in real life, not in my romantic K-Drama. That’s against the rules! Now it’s no longer a romance!”
Fuck this shit. I need the escapism, the fantasy, the hot and swoony male main character to come and sweep me off my feet for my happily ever?—
Our doorbell rings.
“Who is that?” I ask my mom.
She shrugs.
I walk through the living room, into the kitchen, and to the front door.
I open it and am promptly attacked by a glitter wrecking ball.
“What the f—Frankie?”
“Daddy’s here to apologize,” she screams.
I look up, and Dom stands in the doorway, looking every inch the Gang DILF I fell in love with. A steady sentry wearing all black, floppy hair flopping into his face, the edges of his tattoos peeking out from under his jacket sleeves. Blushing, a little. A little shy.
My heart begins inflating like a balloon.
“Your grand gesture can’t just be a hug from your daughter,” I can’t help but tell him, after a moment of drinking him in. “It’s against the rules.”
“She’s only one part of it,” he admits, in that strong, gentle voice that wraps around me like a blanket. “There’s more. But it’s not going to be very grand. It’s going to be more of an overdue conversation between two adults.”
“Wow. Catch me, I’m swooning.”
Frankie is glaring at her father for ruining his own moment, like, really? I, for one, expect nothing less from this beautifully brutally honest and intentional man.
“Do you and your mom wanna come over for Thanksgiving dinner?” Frankie asks, bouncing on her toes, trying to redeem him.
I blink at Dom, waiting.
“We’d love to,” my mom chimes in from behind me.
I tap my foot. “So are you just gonna let everyone else take care of this or…”
Dom laughs, pushing his hair back from his face, and I bask in the full force of his smile. “I?—”
“I can’t show up empty-handed,” my mom cuts in to Frankie again. “Will you help me cook something quick so your dad and Lina can talk upstairs?”
She nods. Dom shoots my mom a grateful look, and together we walk up the stairs to my apartment.
The door closes behind us, and the room shrinks.
“Am I too late?” Dom asks quietly, dark eyes searching my face. Tentative, as if he’s afraid to know the answer.
“Too late for what?” No, never, I want to say.
He shakes his head. “Never mind. This shouldn’t be about that. I still owe you an apology and an explanation, regardless.”
I indicate towards the couch. “Wanna sit?”
I forgot about his gravity. Like a black hole, pulling me in. I sit right next to him.
“You never would have left us,” is what he starts with. “I’m so sorry for accusing you of otherwise.”
“Never,” I agree.
“You said you got triggered by what I said in the hotel room. I was triggered, too. By you leaving.”
“I know.”
He picks at the couch. I hate seeing him fidget. “I have these unreasonably high expectations of everyone, including myself, for so many reasons. Because of what she did to us. Because of my parents and the way I was raised. I can be so inflexible. No one is allowed to make a mistake.”
I nod.
“I’m so sorry. I’m working on it. It’s a terrible quality of mine. It might work really well in business, but it’s fucking horrible for relationships. Especially with the people I love.” He stares at me with warmth and regret.
My heart has reached inflation capacity and is about ready to pop.
“It was so unfair of me to hold you so accountable for one moment in time. One small mistake. You’re always putting others before yourself. Everyone. Me, Frankie, your family, your friends, your coworkers, your community. That’s a quality I should be so grateful for in a partner. Instead, I…” He trails off. “I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for our family, for Frankie,” he says instead.
I want to kiss the self-loathing off his gorgeous face.
Dom takes another deep breath. “I see you, Lina. The way you move through the world—so fierce, so capable, bringing color and light into every life you touch. You make everything brighter, fuller, more alive, and I’ve been too much of a coward to tell you how much I need that, how much we need that, how much I need you . You held everything together, me and Frankie and everything, really, so fucking ferocious, but…” He seems to struggle with this next part. “You shouldn’t have to carry it all alone,” he finally says. He makes a decision now. “I want to be the one who holds you up when you’re tired. I want to be the one who makes you dinner when you’re hungry, or does your laundry when you’re busy. Who loves you the way you deserve—with my whole heart, for as long as you’ll let me.” He still doesn’t touch me. “That is, if I’m not too late,” he murmurs quietly.
I guess it’s my turn. “What’s the teachable moment here? What did we learn?” I ask, forever the educator, forever going to push his buttons.
Dom takes a deep breath and looks up diagonally towards the ceiling in that Flores way. He really thinks about it, because of course he does. “To let go,” he finally says, looking at me. “Life is messy. Some people aren’t going to have the same expectations as I do, and that’s okay.” He thinks some more. “I have to learn to adapt. I have to learn to be flexible. I have to learn how to chill the fuck out. Literally relax.” He looks at me nervously now. “People are going to come and go, and that’s just life,” Dom whispers, studying me, eyes roving all over my face. “It’ll be okay. Frankie will be okay,” he says, as if he is bracing himself. A mantra of self-reassurance.
He’s scared.
Too bad.
Too bad he doesn’t know I forgave him as soon as his daughter ran through my door and attacked me with glitter hugs.
I lied earlier. That was grand gesture-y enough for me.
Because I never stopped loving him. This selfless, gentle, honest, kind, generous man. Thoughtful and competent to a fault. Awkward yet steady and a little bit neurotic.
“You are too late,” I tell him.
His face falls. He nods once. He’s struggling to remain neutral, doesn’t want me to see how upset he is. Wants to protect me from that. Still . “I’m sorry I took so long,” he whispers, his voice cracking on the last word. “You didn’t deserve that. I got in my own way. I’m sorry.”
“You are too late,” I repeat.
He nods again. “I’m so sorry, Lina. I’ll be sorry for rest of my life.” He stands.
“Too late to see me in the lace thing,” I add on.
His body jerks as if he’s been hit.
All right, Lina, enough with the torture. I take his hand and pull him back down.
“Because I put on some weight and it doesn’t fit anymore. Because I took your advice and started taking care of myself. Eating three well-rounded meals a day. Plus snacks.”
He looks down to where our hands are clasped together, then he meets my eyes again. There’s a question in his.
I sigh dramatically, then swing my leg over his lap to straddle him.
His hands land directly on my ass.
I grin.
His smile is slower to spread across his face as he comes to understand.
“I want to kiss you, but I’m going to wait for your consent,” I tell him.
He’s beaming now. I trace the well-worn lines in the corners of his eyes, at the corners of his mouth.
“Use your words,” I whisper.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what? I want to hear you b?—”
He yanks me down by the hair at the base of my scalp and seals his mouth to mine.
I’m home. This is home. I am complete. The last thing I let in, to take care of me .
This is Lina. Not Real Life Lina, New and Improved Real Life Lina, just Lina.
My legs around his hips, his arms around my torso.
His tongue, my mouth.
My heart, his hands.
We’re both greedy, now. We’re both selfish. We both take what we want and need and deserve.
I pull away when I realize Frankie and Mai are downstairs waiting for us and I’m grinding him into the couch. We slowly come back to ourselves. I look around. I realize I’m completely topless. His pants are unbuttoned and unzipped. Somehow, his dick is out. We both look dazed and a little confused.
“There’s one more lesson learned,” I tell him breathlessly.
“What’s that?”
“Our family may be small, but we’re big love.”
He kisses every part of my mouth. North, south, east, west. “I didn’t just learn that. I’ve known that all along.”
“I love you,” I inform him. “Both of you.”
“I love you, too. We both do.”
* * *
“Do I have you to thank for pulling his head out of his ass?” Mai asks Gloria.
Gloria grins, her arm wrapped around my waist, mine draped over her shoulders. “And Frankie.”
Frankie kicks her feet with glee from where she’s perched in Mai’s lap. Mai gently picks shredded carrot out of her hair. “ Gracias, mi amor ,” she whispers into her ear.
“What’s that?” Frankie asks.
“It means, ‘Thank you, my love,’” Mai tells her. She helps her form the words.
I look over towards the kitchen, where Dom has been punished with lumpia frying duty, a supposedly horrific task. I watch him navigate the tongs and the spring rolls and the hot oil with a practiced dexterity, with the assuredness he dedicates to everything. I decide to take pity on him and keep him company, leaving Gloria’s side with a kiss to her head.
It takes me a full five minutes to get there because of the dozens of lolas and lolos and titas and titos and cousins who stop me to give me a hug or kiss on the cheek.
Oliver appears next. He gives me a gigantic squeeze. “I’m so happy he pulled his head out of his ass.”
I smile. “Do I have you to thank for that?”
He shrugs. “And Ma and Dad and Frankie and Izzy and Tala and Georgia and Tita Tess and?—”
“You can just say the entire Flores family. I know it’s a list of approximately one hundred.”
“It includes him, Lina,” he tells me. “He would’ve pulled his own head out of his ass eventually. He loves the fuck out of you. I can see it. I’ve known him his entire life. I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you.”
My eyes sting.
His voice softens. “You know how intense he gets about things. That includes you.” He squeezes my shoulder, then moves down the line to greet another tito.
“Hey, stud,” I tell Dom finally, coming up behind him to wrap my arms around his waist, resting my head in between his shoulder blades.
He places the tongs down and turns to gather me in his arms. One of his hands immediately moves into my hair. “Hi, beautiful.” He squeezes tight. I think he sniffs my head. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“What are you most grateful for?” I ask him.
He looks up towards the ceiling. “Frankie. Family. Pirate Plunders. That Karaoke and Cry never got off the ground, or else I would’ve given them all my money.” He moves his hands to my jaw, places a soft PG kiss on my lips. “You. So much you. I’m grateful you’re here. I’m grateful I wasn’t too late. I’m grateful for you and all the love I have for you.”
I dart my eyes around the room, quickly determine that no one’s looking at us, then tug him down by the collar and shove my tongue in his mouth for more R-rated kissing. When I pull away, however, the entire Flores clan starts “woo”-ing and catcalling. Someone starts playing the guitar.
Dom’s ears turn red.
I grin shamelessly.
“What are you thankful for?” he asks, when everyone has calmed the fuck down.
I don’t have to think about it. “That you pulled your head out of your ass.”
He gives me a G-rated kiss on top of my hair. “Me too.”
“I’m thankful for Mai,” I say. “I’m thankful that a competency porn star loves me. I’m grateful for Frankie and the way I always find food in her hair.”
He shakes his head. “It’s like she’s some sort of weird Filipino mutant who constantly sprouts rice grains out of her skull.”
“But I’m grateful for you. Right now, so much you,” I tell him.
Dom wraps me in his arms again. My solid sentry. Sure, solid, dependable. Home. “Right now, and forever.”