Chapter 26
SARINA
After spending the first half of the day in bed —working, talking, kissing— Tomás and I finally peeled ourselves from the covers that felt like a trap, luring us in, and got dressed to head to my parents’ house.
It’s a forty-five-minute drive to where they live, but with how nervous I’m feeling, it feels like an eternity, giving me too much time to think of how much can go wrong.
I know how my dad is. Cold. Dismissive. Rude.
I’ve seen it, experienced it, and dealt with it my entire life.
Tomás claims he’s dealt with people like my dad plenty of times, but I don’t think he knows what he’s about to walk into.
The more I think about it, the more I feel regret exposing Tomás to him.
No one knows more than I do that my dad is trouble.
I was shocked that following the advice of his uncle —my great-uncle Nino—to leave New York years ago, and start over with a clean slate in Colorado after the damage he caused the Tesoro name from his irrational greed, that he was trying to worm his way back into the city with his business.
Sure, the company appears legit. But I know better than to believe that.
And yet, here I am, dragging Tomás into the lion’s den, all because I want to prove my dad wrong and hopefully cure my lifelong daddy issues in the process.
I can’t do that to him.
I don’t know what I was thinking.
“Stop!” I shout, my hand drifting to Tomás’ on the gear stick.
“What? Now? Sarina, we’re on the highway.”
“Yes, now. Stop the car. I —We can’t do this.”
He shifts gears, continuing to drive.
“Tomás, please.”
It’s then as my voice cracks with desperation seeping through that his gaze drifts to the passenger side-view mirror, searching for a space in the road for him to switch lanes until we are off to the side.
The click of the hazard lights matches the tempo of my heartbeat.
“Is everything okay?”
I don’t respond. I can’t. I feel like I’m going to be sick.
“Sarina, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Taking advantage of my hand resting over his, he moves it so his palm now covers my hand. I’m glad he’s feeling the top of my hand and not my palm, that way he doesn’t have to feel how clammy it is.
“We can’t go through with this. We can’t do any of this. Ralph will have to understand. Trust me, doing business with my dad comes with a lot of stipulations.”
“Carino.” The way the term of endearment rolls off his tongue feels as smooth as silk. Dangerous. “Business always comes with stipulations. That’s nothing new. Nor is that something that I can’t handle. Just tell me what’s really bothering you.”
Unable to look at him, I keep my eyes on the sunset fading into the mountainous sky ahead. “He’s a bad man. His business—” My free hand lifts to air quote. “—isn’t just real estate development.”
“I know,” he breathes, quick and unfazed.
I shift in my seat. Stunned. “How do you—”
“Ralph filled me in.” He turns quiet for a second, placing both hands on the wheel, staring ahead at the mountains like I’ve been doing.
“I need this, Sarina. Not because Ralph is on my ass. I don’t give a shit about that.
I mean, I need this. If we obtain your dad’s company as a client, and we represent him, I can deliver my personal pitch. ”
Tomás goes on to explain his vision for the space my dad wants to turn into a commercial wasteland.
Instead he hopes to revive it by making it a green space.
That, and there is a space that would be perfect to house a weekly market where mom and pop shops of all varieties, from handmade goods to fresh produce, and even have local artists conduct workshops.
There isn’t a detail he hasn’t thought out.
The passion radiating from him is contagious, as is the sadness I can tangibly feel radiating from him.
“I can’t take all the credit for my hopes for the property.
A lot of that came from my dad.” An abrupt pause severs his excitement before he clears his throat.
“Ralph has no idea about this. He’d probably be furious, but I have to at least try to pitch my vision.
Seeing that property bulldozed and turned into something it’s not meant to be will make the memories I have there with my dad feel like they never happened. ”
He lets out a sigh and his fists slam against the steering wheel, inadvertently sounding the horn. “I’m sorry.”
I reach for his shoulder, rubbing it to comfort him, and that small gesture is all that’s needed for him to open the flood gates, sharing the pain he’s been holding on to.
“The crazy part is every time I think about that property, I feel anger. If I had my way, I would make it so that the property didn’t even exist. But then if I did, it would mean all the afternoons I spent there playing catch with my dad would be gone.
It would mean that all the conversations and all the time spent there together –the memories– wouldn’t have happened.
I also wouldn’t be where I am today, if we didn’t have the hardest conversation of all, on those very grounds that your dad sees no value in. ”
I can feel the tightness weighing down on his chest as he takes a loud inhale, and without saying a word, he turns off the hazard lights and merges back into traffic.
I want to know what he’s not telling me.
I want to know why this matters to him so much.
But I don’t want to push him.
I’ve spent my entire life being pushed in so many directions, forced into boxes against my wishes.
I’d die before I’d do that to him, or anyone else for that matter.
But especially Tomás.
To distract us from the silence, I decide to plug in my phone and play some music, since Tomás has my parents’ address in the car’s GPS.
It’s not until we are parked and I’ve come to terms that we are doing this, that Tomás finally makes a noise.
His throat clears.
The sound of a dozen conflicting emotions being pushed down each time he does it until finally, his baritone swims its way to my ears.
“He told me he was dying there. And it’s where he made me promise him I’d step up so I could be there for my mom and Lorena, since he couldn’t.”
My heart breaks into a million pieces hearing him.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. Painful as it was and is, it helped shaped me into the man I am today.”
I’ve never felt such pride intermingled with pain before in my life.
Now it all makes sense.
The laser-focused determination to not only become an attorney but to excel at being one.
It makes me wonder if Lorena knows the conversation, and responsibility their father put on Tomás before he passed.
It makes me feel bad for going along with Lorena when she said he had a stick up his ass with how serious he is.
He had to be, out of the obligation he felt he owed their family.
“I’ve overcome a lot. I can handle your dad. Don’t you worry. I can get along with anyone. Now, unless your father has done something really bad —I’m talking unforgivable in my book— we’ll get along just fine.”
“Unforgivable?”
“Meaning he’s hurt you before in any way.” He takes my hand in his, bringing it to his lips. “Then that’s a different story.”
I simply smile as we get out of the car.
He needs this opportunity to honor his father’s memory, not my unresolved trauma.
If he were to find out all the shitty things my father has done and said to me, I’m afraid of what he’ll do.
Even worse, I’m afraid of what my dad would do to retaliate.