Chapter Eight #3
I loved that car and I’d appreciated Marco which is why I remembered him.
He’d treated the car like gold, giving us a great deal on the body work and parts.
Mamá had bought it for only a thousand dollars when she’d found out that her friend, Carolyn, had lost one of her house cleaning jobs because the elderly man she’d worked for passed away.
His grieving daughter had offered to sell it to Carolyn, who couldn’t afford to buy it.
When she told Mamá about the car, she’d bought it for me that same day.
I adored the classic old Thunderbird not only because it was beautiful, but because of my loving mamá’s selfless gift.
“Marco did great work on the Thunderbird.”
He nodded. “Anyway, he’s the one who told me.”
I nodded. “That’s nice.” I looked Marcello over, relieved I’d never made a move on him when I first met him.
He was a great friend, and that would have ruined that.
When we’d worked at Jons Market, he’d told me about his many female conquests and I’d told him about the guys I dated.
He was the only straight man I’d ever felt comfortable talking about my sex life with, because he’d never once judged me or thought I was bad just because I liked guys.
Most straight guys either didn’t understand gay men, or they didn’t put in the effort to understand. The mentality was similar in the uber macho Latino culture I was exposed to on a daily basis. I was happy that American culture was starting to change bit by little bit.
Maybe it was the fact that my main job was working in a gay bar.
Almost the second I thought it, the faces of those homophobic frat boys popped into my head.
Immediately after that, I pictured Rex and how big and strong he was.
He’d stopped them not with his fists, but with his strong words and macho persona.
I loved his commanding voice and the way those same strong hands had caressed my body, bringing me to the heights of pleasure.
Whatever expression I had on my face must have been telling, because Marcello pinned me with a questioning gaze.
I glanced over at him, feeling miserable inside. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to admit how I’d failed to impress Rex. “What is it? You look like you want to ask me something.”
Marcello reached out and squeezed my bicep. “What’s wrong, Cachi? You looked so sad.”
“I was thinking about a guy I date.”
He smiled widely. “You’re dating someone?”
I shook my head. “Only one time. He’s very nice but last night, he blew me.” Marcello looked shocked, making me realize I’d said something wrong. “He no come to pick me up,” I said, remembering the way Rex had corrected me before.
Marcello thought for a second and then started laughing. “You should have said he blew you off.”
I frowned, not understanding. “That what I say.”
He laughed again. “That’s not what you said. You need to add ‘off.’ He blew you off.”
“I say he blew me.” As I repeated the words, my eyes suddenly widened as it dawned on me. “Oh!”
“Yeah, oh!” he said, chuckling.
I smiled. “Well, he do that too.”
He smirked. “So, why did you look so sad then? You think he used you and then dumped you?”
“Yeah. He no call and no come to pick me up. He blew me off.”
“He never called you?”
“He call me later, but I no answer.”
“So, maybe he had a good explanation. You never even talked to him about it?”
I shook my head. “I never…let him give me explanation,” I said, feeling stupid.
“Then you need to let him apologize, Cachi. If you like him so much, you need to give him another chance.”
I stared at him, trying to decide what to do.
Marcello was older by a couple of years and much wiser than I was.
I knew it had a lot to do with the way he took care of his younger siblings and how responsible he had to be when his mama was at work.
Maybe I had been too immature when it came to Rex.
I should have let him apologize to me or at the very least, let him explain himself.
Everyone at the vet had loved him and based on the way he treated his sweet, little Lola, I knew he was a kind man.
I suddenly realized I’d been the one in the wrong.
I had to let him explain. It was the least I could do.
If he’d given up on me, then I was the one at blame here.
“You’re right, Marcello. I give him chance.”
“You should give him another chance,” he corrected.
“I should give him another chance,” I repeated so that I wouldn’t forget the English.
Marcello reached out and patted my arm, smiling broadly. “Good. I like it when I see you happy, Cachi. And if it works out, maybe you can introduce me to him someday.”
I smiled, nodding. “Yes. I do that.” I heard boots crunching and looked over to see the guy in charge coming over to us just as a linemen’s truck pulled up and parked on the street nearby.
When the man in charge started talking to us, I ignored the truck and turned to him, listening to him speak to us in Spanish and then concentrated on translating it for Marcello.
It was the least I could do for the best friend a guy could have, because if it worked out with Rex and me, it’d be because I talked it over with my wise friend Marcello.