Chapter 10
Bear
Present Time
After breakfast, Pen and I clean up, while her parents go to an appointment. We organize our stuff and, eventually, I find her barely moving on the backyard swing.
I watch her through the door window, hands in my pockets, counting my heartbeats.
One of her hands holds the rope tight, and her head uses it as a cushion.
Her long hair is loose, with a few strands floating in the breeze, and one of them going round and round a finger.
Her eyes are lost in the flower bed against the fence.
She looks deep in thought… and beautiful.
Something pinches in my torso. This swing holds a special place in my memories. We had many conversations with her sitting on it and me on one of the large decorative stones in the garden and, later, on a tree stump.
It was also the place where we kissed, but I try not to think about that.
I open the door and lean against the doorjamb. "Do you want something to drink? It's getting hot out here."
She shakes her head. "I'll go inside in a minute and have something. I just needed some room to think."
"The kind where you need some space, or to talk?"
"I'd love a chat." She smiles.
I go to my spot on the tree stump.
She sighs. "That conversation with my parents was harder than I thought."
"In what way?"
"I know we kept it as close to the truth as possible, but I didn't like the lies."
"Me neither. Problem is, I don't know how to let your dad make the most out of walking you down the aisle otherwise."
"Yeah, he wouldn't enjoy it as much if he knew we're not marrying for the romance." With a casual move of her hand, she runs her fingers through her hair to put it all over one shoulder.
It leaves one side of her neck open, with light brown, tender skin visible. The kind that would be soft under one's lips…
I frown. That's precisely the kind of thought I usually blame on the stories I read, and what they do to my head. I'll need to keep an eye on that too, it seems. If reality starts looking too much like fiction, I may need to go on a multichapter break, at least.
"I don't believe in white lies," I say. "If you want to tell him the truth, we can. I will still marry you as a friend. We can tell them it's the pact we made."
She shakes her head. "No. Let him believe it. In a way we are marrying for love, just not, you know. That kind of love."
That's what I can't forget.
I sigh. I should probably stop re-reading my favorite fanfic, too. The slow burn build up is killing me all over again, and making me yearn for things that won't happen for a few more years, especially now that I'm marrying Pen.
"Love for Tío Sergio and your mom," I say. "The friendship between you and I."
That's the kind of love I will have, and a lot of it, too.
She glances at me, then to the spot behind me where red coreopsis flowers bloom. Under them, our capsule waits.
"You know," she says, "I remember what I wrote in my letter."
"We said we weren't going to speak of what is in those letters until we opened the metal box."
I've counted on that, in fact. I wrote that letter knowing I would have a decade or so to figure out the answers to the questions I put there.
"Humor me, please?" she asks. "My mom already said something and it got me thinking."
We originally planned to open it when we were both married. Then, when she swore off romance, we said we'd open them at thirty. Just a few months left.
With our wedding on the table, it might be best to postpone that reveal.
I sigh. "All right. Just keep some of the mystery."
She pushes back on the ground, creating gentle movement on the swing. "One of the things I said was that I released you from the pact. That I may be selfish in how much I want from you, but you didn't need to do that. Yet here we are."
"See? I'm just following the plan."
"Earlier, my parents were asking about the kind of wedding we want. We said something small, but I don't think you and I agree on what that means."
"Anything you want, Pen."
She smirks and gazes up at the few wispy clouds above us.
"You see, if anyone had asked me— before I decided to be single forever— what kind of wedding I wanted, I would have said the courtroom was enough for me.
A pretty dress, some flowers, two friends as witnesses and a judge.
Done. The point of getting married is the marriage itself, not the wedding. "
"You would have wanted to elope. One big problem with that. No aisle."
Her lips tense. She drops to rest her elbows on her knees, bringing her closer to me. Giving me a view down her neckline that I forbid myself from gaping at. I lock eyes with her.
"So I guess I'll have to be okay with all the clichés," she says. "I'll need to find a dress, and we have to get a venue on short notice."
I scratch my eyebrow. "What about… our living situation?"
"Right. I guess we need to move in together."
I nod. "The room I keep for my parents. We can make it cozy for you."
"What's wrong with my apartment?!"
I roll my eyes, like the answer is obvious.
"Hey!" she complains, but she laughs.
Her apartment is close to her job, but too far from mine. And it's too small for all of our things combined, and it's not like she doesn't like my place. She helped me decorate it, for fuck’s sake.
"How am I supposed to make it to work during rush hour?" she adds.
"Easy. You take this as an opportunity to take a leave of absence, and use that time to decide what comes next."
"Do you want me to take the full year we'll stay married?!"
"Sure. Make it two years."
"That's not— two years is too long—"
"Then quit. Tell your boss you're not coming back to work after the honeymoon."
"We're going on a honeymoon?"
"I'm already making plans."
"What kind of plans?"
"I'll surprise you. It's a good excuse for a trip, isn't it? And there's no way I would skip a honeymoon. Your parents know that. I'm not going to let them think I'm a bad husband."
"Admit this is another way to spoil me rotten."
"Secondary benefit." I cross my arms.
Her eyes take a quick perusal of my shoulders, chest, and arms. "You don't have to."
"I know. But I bet you'll enjoy it."
Her gaze roams over my chest for a few extra seconds, before she looks away to the house, then back at me.
"I will," she says, "but at what cost?"
I arch an eyebrow. She mirrors me. I'm not sure if our words are only about the honeymoon anymore, or the thoughts that might have crossed her mind. I don't let myself imagine.
"Don't be silly," I finally say. "Just take the trip. Take the damn break."
Take another look. As many as you want.
Ugh. I don't blame this thought on what I read. The way she looked at me just then is all her responsibility. When her eyes get lost on me with that particular glint, like she likes what she sees.
Yeah, those are the times when I have to be careful.
"Don't call me silly!" she insists.
"We've been friends for twenty years. I love spoiling you. When are you going to get used to it?"
Are you used to it? Do you want to look again?
Fuck. Okay. That one is on me.
She gives me a half-offended look. "What you've never understood is what I know will happen when you find your one true love. You'll spoil her, as you should. And then I'm going to know what I'm missing because I've had it with you but then not anymore!"
"Pen, I'm a big guy with big pockets. I have plenty to give. I can spoil you forever if I want. Test me on this too."
She laughs. "How should I test you with this?"
"What kind of wedding do you want? And what about a reception? Tell me what color you want on the walls of your new room, and I'll make it happen before you move in."
"I've never imagined my own wedding like this!"
"You better start imagining it, because you and I are getting married, and I would never just do a courthouse wedding."
She snorts. "I bet you have a vision board somewhere."
"I'll share it with you."
She shakes her head. "Save it for your true love."
"Then let's start another one. Together.
Let's make this a beautiful party. Dress in whatever dress makes you feel gorgeous.
We'll do a tradition or two, and you'll dance with your dad, and throw your bouquet to a small group of friends.
We'll want the memories, Pen. And if your dad doesn't cry, then we didn't do our job right. "
She purses her lips and glances at me, but says nothing.
"Imagine it, Pen." I make my voice stern. "Picture what you want our wedding to be like. Think of getting married to me. We're going to make it happen."
She watches me for a few seconds and, when she shakes her head this time, it's only a tiny movement of irritation. Still, humor returns to her eyes.
"Sometimes," she says, "when you get bossy like this, I bristle. Right now? Ugh, right now I'll let you win."
"Finally. Did you have to fight me so much?"
"You're the worst!" She punches my arm and laughs.
I chuckle. "Now, let's plan how the hell we're going to tell our friends that we're getting married. We're seeing them next week for Damián's barbeque. We should make it special."
"They're going to lose it."
"We can make it fun. What do you think?"
The evening goes by easily. We keep it casual, making a huge bowl of salad she and her parents love— buckets of chopped celery, tuna, mayo, a few avocados, cilantro, and what seems like a cup's worth of fresh lemon juice.
We all take big spoonfuls onto our plates, going for seconds and even thirds until it's all gone.
I accompany it with toasted buns, but everyone else just digs at the salad like it's their favorite meal.
Just like in those months I stayed with them before college, Pen's parents go upstairs earlier than their daughter. She goes up eventually and, unlike when we were teenagers, she kisses my cheek. I smile and bid her goodnight.
I'm turning off the light next to my bed when I hear footsteps on the stairs.
It's Tía Antonia.
"I hope I didn't wake you up." She speaks quietly, not to disturb the growing quiet in the home.
I sit up. The covers tumble to my waist.
"You didn't," I say.
"I just wanted some water but— be right back."
I stay in place and wait. She comes back with a glass and sits at the feet of my bed.
"I always felt bad that you had to sleep here." She smiles. "Ever since the first time you stayed over. You've always been too big for standard furniture."
I smirk. "That's why I gifted you this particular sofa bed later on, right? Don't worry about it."
"You know—" she sips water— "when you were teenagers, I used to get up in the middle of the night to check on you guys."
I frown. "Check on us?"
She nods. "To make sure you didn't sneak up to her bedroom… or she came down to sleep with you."
"Oh." My gesture changes slowly, until both eyebrows are high up. "Oh."
She chuckles. "I always knew how this was going to end. I just didn't want you both to start popping kids out until you were older."
"Tía," I groan. "Is that why you sat us down and gave us the talk about contraceptives, consent, and responsible sex together?"
It was one of the most awkward moments of my life.
Tía sat at the head of the table, with Pen on one side and me on the other.
I couldn't look at my best friend, and she couldn't look at me either, as her mom told us all about the birds and the bees.
How she stressed that the birds should wait until much later in their lives to think about children.
How the bees should always be respectful because if a no is a no, the lack of a yes is a problem too.
She also had a lot to say about how important condoms were, but if it's an issue of contraception alone, then vasectomies are the best option.
She laughs. "Yes, that's right. Just in case."
"We were not doing things like that at the time."
I bit the inside of my cheek. It's not like we're doing those things these days, either.
"Sure, sure," she says, "but the conversation must have come in handy at some point. You're fully grown now, and I'm a modern woman."
"Please don't try to give me the sex talk again."
Ironically, I listened to her advice. Always wore a condom and even got a vasectomy, since they can get reversed. I may want kids, but I wanted certainty more. Besides, who knows how long I'll have to wait, or how my person may feel about children. Not that I'm going to tell Tía Antonia that.
"I won't." She smiles. "All I wanted to say is that I'm really happy you two finally saw what we all saw through the years."
My stomach twists. If that one kiss had gone differently, I might have seen these exact things happen around us.
Now I'm seeing what I've only dreamed of for myself with other people, but with Pen and her family.
The things I read about, the things that hook me to my TV, that were only there for my future romance, they're all around me… and they scream danger.
"I know you always wanted us to end up together," I say.
"I know it's old-fashioned, just like Sergio dreaming of walking Pen down the aisle. Two childhood best friends, falling in love, making a life together."
I purse my lips. "We're happy we can make that happen."
She gives me a curious look, but doesn't add more.
She pats my leg. "You've been a part of this family for a long time. I'm glad we can make it legal."
I nod.
Before she leaves, she turns to me.
She gives me a raised eyebrow and a smile. "You know, you're almost thirty."
I mirror her raised eyebrow.
Her smile widens. "I think you should join my daughter in her bedroom. You're old enough these days."
I lick my bottom lip. No idea how to respond to that…
But I know it means I have to do it.