Chapter 39
Pen
The end of minicamp comes a few days later, bringing in the start of the last real break before the new football season.
If it's been a tiring few days for me, it's been just as bad for Bear.
While he's been busy training for way too long every day, I've been carting my parents around.
I got my DNA test results— I'm all clear for genetic markers.
On the other hand, my dad decided to get his surgery here in Seattle in a few short weeks, and we've been preparing for that.
In a rare opportunity to sit and breathe, I make myself an iced coffee and get on a stool by the kitchen island.
Food is cooking on the stove, and I could use a second to slow down.
Can't wait to wake up tomorrow and be on a break.
Especially since it includes driving my parents back home again in a couple of days, giving Bear and I some much needed alone time before they're back for the surgery.
Just like Bear predicted a few days ago, we had to pause both bucket lists.
It's okay. It gives me plenty of time to think, to imagine, and to remind myself everything Leon and I are doing has a deadline.
It's important I don't forget. Like we said after the club that night, if we're doing this at all, it's because we're giving it rules.
They will protect our friendship. That's what matters most.
It's thanks to those limits that I'll get to do things I've only dreamed of, and do them with my best friend.
I'll get his mouth on me again. I'll get my mouth on him.
One of these days, I'm going to get my way with his dick, too, and gah.
It will be glorious. From just the one night together, I predict a sex marathon for the ages.
I. Can't. Wait.
"Is that Leon?" My mom enters the kitchen and puts water to boil for tea.
"What?" I straighten in my stool.
Seems my break involved daydreaming about my husband like a lovestruck fool. Well, lust-struck. If that's not a word, I'm making it up right now.
"I thought I heard the garage?" Mom adds.
She doesn't finish the sentence when the door opens.
Without thought, I jump from my stool and envelop Leon in my arms. He responds right away, dropping his bag on the floor and hugging me back. He kisses me and, though it's not quite the same kind of kiss we shared in the privacy of our room, it rocks me off my feet.
"Ay, los tortolitos," Mom says from behind me. "I love seeing you like this."
I pull back from the kiss, though I remain in Bear's arms. I blink at him.
He looks at me with a glint in his eyes, like he enjoyed my mom's comment.
And why wouldn't he? I doubt the word tortolitos is bringing anything up for him.
For me, it reminds me of a few years ago, when I saw him with Tamara.
The one woman he almost married in pursuit of his happily ever after.
He kisses my temple, lets go of me, and greets my mom with a kiss on her cheek. "Hola, Tía."
I watch him go straight for the stove, where he spies on the simmering pot.
"Cazuela?" he asks and takes a deep whiff of the slow-bubbling soup.
I stay put, sighing on the spot. Talk about domesticity, and the kind of things that could get confusing.
Thankfully, despite the excitement for what Leon and I will do, the lines between us are never far away from my mind.
Especially in moments like this, when a simple word from my mom pulls them from my memory banks.
One day he's going to want to be a tortolito with someone who checks every single item on his romantic checklist. He's going to remember he wants the kind of love they write poetry about.
He's going to go out and seek someone who's ready to scream her adoration for him from the rooftops, rather than someone who's spent her life telling everyone there's no romance there.
She's going to be the kind to cry when he proposes, and take one good look at his True Wedding Vision Board and love every part of it.
Hell, she's going to wish he had a breeding kink, because she has one too.
"Since you're driving us back home in two days," Mom says, "I wanted to make sure to cook all your favorites."
She's completely unaware of the dire negotiations going on in my mind, of course. Just like my husband, who gazes at her with true appreciation.
"You spoil me," he says.
"Of course! That's my job as your mother-in-law."
Well, to hell with it. Until he's ready to go find his tortolita, I'll enjoy him as my fuck buddy. Best fuck buddy? We'll be best friends who fuck. For a while.
He smirks at my mom. "You spoiled me before I was your son-in-law, Tía. You don't fool me."
She shrugs like she doesn't have a care in the world. "I always knew you'd be my son-in-law."
"Mmmh." Leon's eyes still glimmer. "No se juega con mi suegra."
He has an accent saying the words in Spanish, but the statement delights my mother anyway. No one plays with my mother-in-law.
Is the fact Bear and I will divorce one day playing with my mom?
Ugh. No. What Bear and I are doing is fun and thrilling and right for now, but it is part of a plan. My parents will have to understand. My heart already does.
"So all the tests are done?" Bear asks.
We're sitting at the table, after finishing our meal of soup and salad.
Sobremesa is an important part of a family get together.
Whether you're close by blood or choice, a sip of liquor or tea and good conversation are part of the ritual.
Tonight, we drink from my mom's much-guarded Boldo teabag collection.
I take a sip of strong, medicinal-tasting herbal drink.
"Yes," Dad says. "Everything is ready for surgery in a few weeks. Now all I have to do is rest and follow the prep plan."
"How are you feeling about it, Tío?" My husband asks.
He puts his large hand on top of mine on the table, and I take a deep sigh.
One day, he'll take someone else's hand, but today he's taking mine.
"I like the head surgeon." Dad smiles, appreciating his own pun. "The boss seems to know what he's doing."
"His odds are the same," Mom adds, "but to have someone confident and so competent leading the team helps a lot."
"I hate that I can't come back home to help you prep," Bear says. "I wish I could be there. Just home, the four of us."
With training camp and all the pre-season stuff happening soon, Leon won't be allowed to go home. He got permission only for surgery day, and only because it's a risky intervention on a legal family member. One of the perks of being officially entwined.
"It's okay," my dad tries, but he tears up and can't keep talking.
We're all aware of the risks of what's about to happen. Fifty-fifty odds. None of us likes to think about it.
My dad knows our worries and our need to be with him means he's loved, and it clogs his throat.
He puts a hand on Bear's shoulder. My husband looks back at him with an expression full of affection.
All the while, he squeezes my hand harder.
Like he's seeking comfort from me too, or like he wants to give me some in case I need it. Maybe both.
Without warning, my heart constricts, too.
My mom smiles, eyes jumping from one man to the other.
"We know how you feel about us, Leon." Her eyes turn to me, then back to him. "We all feel the same way about you. You don't need to say the words. And it's okay. I dreamt of Sergio holding a baby. He'll be okay."
I've always known there's no way to prove her dreams can actually predict things, but I hold on to this one with all my heart. She's been right before. I'm begging for her to be right about this one, too.
The relief is so big, I don't immediately realize what she's implying.
"Wait." I narrow my eyes. "Did you…"
Mom smirks. "Sí. Soné con una guagua."
"A two for one dream?" Leon raises an eyebrow. "I didn't know that could happen."
"It was him." She shrugs. "And it was a baby. I'm taking both as a sign."
She gazes at me, playfulness and hope in her eyes.
I shake my head. "I'm not pregnant!"
Bear studies my mom, with one of those looks that remind me of a detective.
"Don't expect kids from us," he says.
It's the only possible answer at this point. Leon wants kids, but that's not a question I ever asked too deeply myself. What was the point? And he has a vasectomy, for heaven's sake. I drove him home that day! So no need to worry about pregnancies for the time being.
"Oh, I know." Mom gives us a coy smile. "It's not the two of you yet. A friend from my bookclub just sent a text and told me she's five months along."
My head pulls back in confusion. "If you knew who's having a baby, why drop it in the conversation like this?"
"This was your way to ask about our plans." Leon smirks.
"Well, I'd like to be a grandma one day, instead of having all these dreams about other people."
"All I promise is fur babies," I say. "You can babysit those if you'd like."
Maybe a big, dark haired dog will keep me company when Leon is busy trying to make babies with someone else.
"We'll see," Mom replies. "We can wait. I don't mean to be the typical mom rushing the married kids to pop out babies, but I'm sure the Karlsens are wondering, too."
"If they are, they have not said a thing." Bear stares at my mom like he wants to chuckle.
"Doesn't mean they're not thinking about it," Dad says.
"You too?!" I exclaim, but they all laugh.
Even my husband, who doesn't seem to mind the conversation too much.
It's fine. I know why. He's thinking of how we'll divorce one day, and he'll be free to go sow his seeds— eww— somewhere else.
I really don't want to think about that.