22. Have you finally boned yet?
22 /
have you finally boned yet?
rafael
I walk through the front door quietly, my presence not yet known because everyone is so loud they couldn’t possibly hear anything outside of the kitchen, where I’m sure they’re all gathered. I stand at the threshold, taking it in. My little sister, the youngest of us six, is in what looks to be a heated argument, but it’s likely just a discussion about a soccer game with my dad.
My mom and Vó are at the island, prepping something. Marcelo, Gustavo, and Gabriel are just outside the door at the grill, munching on whatever they’re cooking and laughing with beers in their hands.
Arthur should be here. I hate that he isn’t, and I hate that he insinuated there’s anything between me and Charlie. I don’t know what the fuck he thinks he saw, but I’m not about to ask him, either.
The three idiots who were just at the grill walk into the kitchen, forcing the attention onto me. A chorus of cheers erupts in the room as they see me, arms thrown in the air in our family’s typical dramatic fashion.
Shaking my head, I walk toward the two oldest women to greet them first, because I know what’s good for me. Then, I pull Daniela into a hug, lifting her off the floor as my dad laughs at her screeches.
My dad greets me with open arms. “Oi, filho.” I kiss his cheek and take a few seconds to hug him before the three stooges are on me, throwing punches and handing me a beer.
“Fora!” Vó shoos us, telling us to take it outside. I blow her a kiss as she shakes her head, smiling down at the limes she’s cutting.
“Kiss ass,” Gustavo says under a fake cough, and the other two snicker like children. Gus ruffles up my hair as if I’m the younger brother. “Just messin’ with ya, bro. You’re everybody’s favorite because you’re so perfect. And rich.” He laughs.
“Oh, shut up, Gus. You’re the favorite because you’re the baby.” Marcelo smacks him in the back of the head then runs away.
“Shut up, asshole. Daniela is the baby!” Our two brothers chase one another into the backyard, eventually ending up tangled up on the ground just like they always have since we were children.
“Yeah, but you act like the baby,” Marcelo yells as Gus gets him in a headlock. I love these dumbasses.
Gabriel, the quietest of all of us, chuckles into his beer bottle before taking a swig. “Idiots,” he mumbles. “I’m the favorite, obviously.” We both laugh, and I tap his beer bottle with mine. Cecilia is nowhere to be found, so she must be with her mom today. It’s one of Gabriel’s ex-wife’s power moves, making sure their daughter is with her when we have family meals. Like she gets some weird joy out of keeping her away from us. She’s the worst. My brother deserves so much better, and so does my sweet little niece. Our whole family does.
None of my siblings are adopted. Just me. And yet, you’d never know it. I’ve never been treated differently. It wasn’t until Gus, at age nine, asked our parents why their skin was a bit darker than mine that they sat us down and finally talked about everything. I was fifteen the day my whole world changed. Nothing was different on the outside. Not the way my siblings wrestled with me, not the way my mom nagged me about leaving clothes on the floor, not the way my dad showed up to every soccer game. Nothing but the knowledge in my mind and in my heart that I wasn’t theirs, and yet, they chose me and continue to choose me.
A lot fell into place for me, then, too. Why I was the only one with dyslexia and ADHD, why my siblings have some form of my mom’s birthmark on their bodies, why the brown in their eyes were more hazel or green than my simply brown ones.
“Do you think he’s ever going to come back?” Gabe asks. He misses Art the most. They’re only a year apart, then there’s another year between Gabe and me. People used to think that our parents didn’t understand the concept of birth control because they had two kids under two when they “had” me. They always wanted a lot of kids, though, and somehow, they didn’t hesitate when the opportunity to adopt me came up.
Gabe’s eyes stay glued on the three different types of meat he’s got on the grill, but I don’t have to see them to know they’re probably watery right now. We’re a family of huggers, criers, and talkers. We were raised by strong women who taught us to be the adults we are now, and a soft dad who showed us that tears are not a weakness. They’re not perfect people, but they know how to apologize, how to talk things out, and how to change for the ones they love. I couldn’t have chosen better parents.
So, when one of us is missing, it’s like a part of our bodies has been physically cut out. Arthur’s absence is felt down to the bones, and every Sunday that he’s not here makes that cut grow deeper .
“Yeah. I do.” I’m not sure I believe my own words, but I’m hopeful my brother will come to his senses. “He has to, Gabe.” My brother nods and wipes at his cheek, not hiding his tears. We watch the grill in silence for a few minutes, likely both thinking about how good it would be to have Art here.
The two idiots on the lawn stop fighting once they notice us walking inside with the trays of meat, and as if on cue, Vó steps through the door, brings both pinkies to her lips, and whistles so loudly I’m sure the neighbors a few acres over can hear. We’ve never needed a dinner bell.
Once inside, we all take our places at the table, which is whatever chair you’re closest to. No assigned seats here. Daniela swats Gus and Marcelo’s hands away from the food three times before our two matriarchs finally sit. The moment their bodies touch their chairs, we all dig in. They laugh at our impatience, as they always do.
During lunch, no more than three different conversations are happening at the same time. Sometimes, all this noise would agitate me, make me feel like I couldn’t focus on anything because every conversation was so loud, and my brain would try to listen to them all. I’d get overstimulated easily. I wonder how Charlie would handle this. She would probably hate it? I mean, not that it matters, it’s not like I’m going to bring her to a Sunday meal. I’m probably just thinking about her because I drove her to Ojai. I check my phone again and the motion does not go unnoticed by my mom.
“Everything okay, Rafa?” she asks, loudly enough for everyone to hear, stop what they’re doing, and turn to me. Great .
“Uh, yeah. Why?” I take another bite of my picanha and pray for the voices to start back up around the table.
“You’ve checked your phone half a dozen times already.” She waves a finger across the table and pauses, waiting for my response.
“I’m picking up a friend on my way home today. Just making sure she hasn’t messaged since we didn’t set a time.” It’s stupid because I got here less than an hour ago. I know it’s illogical, but I don’t want Charlie to feel like I’m not paying attention if she’s messaging me.
“She?” My mom’s eyebrows raise as the clatter of forks being dropped on plates echoes around the room. All eyes are on me.
“Uh-huh.” I take a sip of my Guaraná, but none of them move. “She’s from England and not comfortable driving here yet. She’s practically my neighbor, so I see her all the time. It’s Maeve’s sister, Charlie. I dropped her off on the way so she could spend time with her and her niece. You can all go back to eating now.”
“Can we finally meet her?”
“You should bring her next Sunday.”
“I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Have you finally boned yet?”
That last one comes from Gus. At twenty-six, he still acts like a high school kid. Gabe, who hasn’t said a word, smacks him on the back of the head for me.
Vó gives me a knowing look and chuckles. When she picks up her fork and resumes eating, everyone else does the same, continuing their conversations as if nothing has happened, and I let out a relieved breath.
My sister scooches closer to me, her voice quieter than anyone else’s. “You know why they’re all acting like this, don’t you?” Dani might be twenty-five, but she’s always been the voice of reason, so I’m curious.
“No?” I mean, should I?
“All you’ve ever said about Charlie is how much she hates you, and now you’re spending time with her?” She widens her eyes .
I forgot that I accidentally let it slip that I’d met Maeve’s sister and that we weren’t getting along. They ate that shit up because, according to them, up until Charlie, no one had ever not liked me. “It’s not like I talk about her all the time or anything. Geez .”
Daniela giggles, letting out a snort. “Oh my God, how delusional are you? Every time you see that woman, we hear about it.” She shakes her head. “Charlie was in town for an event, and she ignored me the whole time. I’m going to London, and Charlie will be there, so it’s probably gonna be weird. Charlie went to Vegas, and I think she actually had fun, though she didn’t say a word to me.” She mocks a deep male voice that sounds nothing like mine then laughs again.
“Shit,” I mumble, and she only laughs harder.
Eventually, we move on to talk about other things, Charlie seemingly forgotten by everyone at the table—except me.
Once we’re all finished, things are cleaned and leftovers are packed away, I start to make some coffee, needing the distraction.
“So, that’s who was on your mind last week.” Vó sneaks up beside me, checking on my technique with the traditional pour-over method we all prefer for our coffee.
“Hmm? Oh. No. It’s nothing.” I keep stirring slowly, methodically, not wanting to give anything away.
Vó flicks me on the nose and scoffs. “Don’t bother lying to me.” When I drop the spoon to rub my nose, because goddamn that hurt, she takes it over. “If you’re friends now, maybe she can help with the recipe book. Bring her on Tuesday.” Her gaze stays glued to the coffee, but I know the look in her eyes. She thinks she knows something. Well, maybe I’ll ask Charlie and bring her just so Vó can see there’s nothing like that going on. That ought to get her weird looks under control.