Chapter 8
chapter eight
juan pablo
There were many sides to Priscilla, and over the years I had seen most of them, but her vulnerable, quiet side was not one I’d seen a lot.
I wasn’t sure what to think when we reached the edge of the hotel property and she had her hand gently resting on the arm I’d draped around her shoulder. It was too dark now to see her clearly, but at the ceremony, I could hardly keep my eyes off her.
She was wearing a long gray and turquoise maxi dress.
The top hugged her breasts and showed off her strong brown arms. She’d braided her hair in an intricate design, which made her look like a Taino princess.
I was never any good at coming up with clever or romantic words, but for Priscilla, corny shit always seemed to be right at the tip of my tongue.
“Do you need to get back to the reception? Photos, speeches?”
I startled when her voice pierced the quiet, and turned to look at her.
“We took all the pics beforehand, because it would be too dark after the ceremony.” She dipped her head once at that.
“But I do have to be there in—” I lifted my arm to look at my watch “—about fifteen minutes. We let Priya and Ayako convince us to act out a poem for our joint speech, and I have to go look like a jackass in front of a hundred people.”
She busted up at that. “Of course they did. I can’t wait to hear what those two came up with.
It’s so great that Milo and Tom’s friends get along so well.
” She said it in that same glad-but-a-little-sad tone she’d been using all week.
As we walked back up to the hotel, I wondered if all this was also getting to her.
I almost asked her what was wrong, or if this weekend had just a tinge of bittersweet to it for her, too, but getting to Priscilla’s soft underbelly was almost never a pleasant experience and I didn’t want to ruin the moment.
“We all do get along well. Ayako and Priya are thick as thieves. They’ve been working on that program together.
Sanjay and Priya are giving a ton of money to start a South and East Asian LGBT+ Youth center in Queens and Ayako’s been really involved with that. ”
Pris nodded and when she spoke, I could hear the smile in her voice. “Leave it to Milo to find the one set of millionaires in New York who are not only all gorgeous and nice, but seem to be hell-bent on spending all their money on helping people.”
I cracked a smile at that. “And that little monster still finds shit to complain about.”
“That’s why we all love him. You never need to know where you stand with Camilo. He will let you know.”
I grunted some kind of affirmative response, feeling that a little more intensely than she probably meant me to.
As we got closer to the lit reception area, we could smell the jerk chicken on the grill, but Priscilla spoke before I could.
“Damn that smell’s making me hungry. I didn’t think I’d be able to eat after that gigantic lunch, but I could use a cocktail and some wings right now. ”
I laughed at her ravenous expression. “Same. The food this week has been amazing.” Because Camilo was Cuban and Jamaican, we would have a Jamaican-themed cocktail hour, and dinner would be Dominican/Cuban fusion.
“Nesto really outdid himself on this one.” Pris’s voice was full of that pride she always had for her cousin.
Nesto had asked two of his friends from culinary school—one Cuban and the other Jamaican—to come help out.
Last night we’d had an amazing Afro-Caribbean fusion meal at the rehearsal dinner, and from the scents hitting us right now, we were in for another treat.
As we started walking up the stone path to the large covered terrace where guests were milling around various food stations, I slid my arm from her shoulders.
I almost didn’t say anything, but no matter how much things had changed, I still had to be me.
“I’m gonna take this arm off you right now, but know that it’s ready and able to be deployed whenever you need it. ”
She just gave me some side-eye…and a smile. “Duly noted. Not that we want to give any of these people the wrong idea. Team JuanScilla is going strong in the Gutierrez family.” I grinned when she mentioned the nickname the guys had given us during a particularly hot and heavy time for us.
“Fuck no!” Throwing my hands up as if to shield myself. “Don’t even mention it in front of Camilo.”
I was about to make another joke about all the grief we put up with over the years when I noticed Patrice hurrying towards us, “Oh good! Here you are. We’re going to go practice this poem fiasco one more time before the speeches start.”
I just rolled my eyes as I stepped up to where he was with Pris next to me. “It’s a little difficult to buy how annoyed you are about this when you’re grinning so hard I can see your molars.”
Pris rolled her eyes at him, too, pointing at Easton who was walking toward us with two champagne flutes in hand. “He probably thinks this is going to earn him points with Easton.” She clicked her tongue at Patrice, who was now waggling his eyebrows and mouthing, “You know I am.”
“Oh how the mighty fall. Patrice Denis, trying to get ass by acting a fool at a wedding. I never thought I’d live to see the day.”
We all cracked up at that and by the time Easton made it to where we were, we had tears in our eyes. He handed Pris one of his glasses after giving Patrice a kiss. “Stop teasing my man, Priscilla.”
She balked at that. “How do you know I was teasing him?”
If any of us didn’t know her as well as we did, we’d think she was dead serious.
“I can tell. Now drink your delicious signature champagne cocktail so we can go get food from that unbelievable cocktail hour spread while these men go practice.”
She saluted us with one hand as she took a sip and moaned. “Damn. This is good. Champagne and what?”
Easton nodded in appreciation. “Tamarind and passion fruit.”
“Thank you baby Jesus for making Camilo skanky.” She pressed a hand to the champagne flute as if in prayer. “Because we are all reaping the fruits of his efforts.”
Man, I hadn’t seen that glint in Priscilla’s eyes since we’d gotten here. I didn’t want to get a big head and say our walk turned her mood around, but I could think it. I didn’t want to leave, just so I could get a little bit more time with her.
But before I could mess more with her, P clapped me on the shoulder. “Let’s go J.”
Pris and Easton lifted their glasses to us as we turned to join the others.
“Are you two patching things up?” That was another big change in Patrice, since he’d joined the ranks of the coupled off and blissfully happy. He now volunteered to know about people’s feelings.
“I wouldn’t say patch things up, but yeah it’s all good.
” As we headed to join the rest of the wedding party to figure out how many ways we could make asses of ourselves in honor of our friend’s marriage, I thought about how good it had felt to have my arm around her, to see her at ease and joking, the way her laugh still did more for my soul than anything else in the world, how it probably would forever.
I knew it then. It was time to take my chance.