“You’re welcome,” I whispered back.
The three of us didn’t say anything. We just sat there and smiled. And then Fito said, “Your dad, man. I really like that cat.”
Sam smiled and shook her head. “Why is everyone a cat?”
“Not everyone’s a cat. Just cool people, you know?”
I kinda liked that cat thing Fito had goin’ on.
Sam was teaching Fito how to operate his iPhone—?and I was sitting next to Dad on the back steps. It was dark out and not too cold. The Christmas lights around the back door were blinking off and on. I was beginning to like the smell of my dad’s cigarettes, which was a really bad thing. Then I heard him say, “So how come you’re sitting out here with your old man?”
“Do you believe in heaven, Dad?”
“That’s a helluvan answer to my question.”
“Do you?”
“I’m not sure. I believe there’s a God. I believe there is something greater, a force that transcends this thing we call living. I don’t know if that answers your question.”
“If there’s no heaven, I don’t really care. Maybe people are heaven, Dad. Some people, anyway. You and Sam and Fito. Maybe you’re all heaven. Maybe everyone’s heaven, and we just don’t know it.”
My dad was wearing this great smile. “You know something? I think you’re a little bit like Fito.”
“How’s that?”
“Well, I know you’ve been going through a lot lately. And it seems that our lives have gotten a little complicated, and I know you well enough to know that that particular word doesn’t sit well with you. Me going back and forth to see Mima and talking to doctors, and Sam’s mom—”
“And you dating Marcos.”
“And me dating Marcos,” he repeated. “And it seems you’re more in your head than I’ve ever seen before. I don’t know what’s going on in there. Not really. But—” He stopped. “But,” he repeated, “I do know you. And I’m guessing that you underestimate yourself. That’s why you had such a hard time writing your essay.”
“I didn’t tell you I’d finished it.”
“I know.”
“How did you know?”
“I just did. One of those things.”
“Wow,” I said.
“Wow,” he said. “Salvie, I have a theory that you can’t sell yourself on an application form because you don’t believe there’s much to sell. You tell yourself that you’re just this ordinary guy. Is that true?”
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s part of it, I think.”
“What’s the other part?”
“Can I get back to you on that?”
My dad nodded. “Can I just say one thing, Salvador?”
“Sure.”
“There’s nothing ordinary about you. Nothing ordinary at all.”
Sam actually made the taco shells. I taught her how. The first few were total losses, but she got the hang of it. Well, she burned her hand when some hot oil splattered. The F word went flying through the kitchen and landed in the living room, where it hit my dad right in the heart. He walked into the kitchen and looked at Sam, shaking his head. “You okay?”
It wasn’t that bad. “She’s fine,” I said. “Just a little burn. She hasn’t had her drama fix for the day.”
Marcos dropped in. He looked a little tired. You know, I had never thought of Marcos as a person. Not really. I thought of him only in relation to my dad. And that awkward conversation he had with me and Sam, that sort of impressed me a little. Yeah, it impressed me, but it hadn’t impressed me enough. I still saw him as my dad’s boyfriend. I guess that’s what he was. Or at least they were working toward that, I think. And Dad was shy about the whole thing, which was kind of sweet in a way. Sweet. He’s the guy who introduced me to that word. Part of me wanted to like Marcos. He was decent. And him and Fito, they really got along. But part of me wanted to push him away.
I found myself sitting in the living room, where Marcos was having a glass of wine. Dad and Fito and Sam were still eating cake in the kitchen and fooling with Fito’s iPhone, so I looked at Marcos and said, “I don’t know anything about you. I mean, I know you like my father. But that’s about it.”
“You mind? That I like your father?”
“Nope. Don’t mind.” I thought about telling him that if he ever hurt my father again, I’d go after him. I mean, well, I just smiled. Then I found myself opening my mouth and saying, “You hurt him.”
“Yes, I did.”
I shook my head. “Guess it happens,” I said.
We sat there in that awkward silence. And I guess he decided to talk—?or at least try. You know, talk like normal people.
“Your mother introduced me to your father. Did you know that?”
“No, I didn’t.” That surprised me. I wondered why Dad hadn’t told me. Not that Marcos came up much in our conversations.
“I was with someone at the time. But I really liked your father. He was real, the kind of guy who never pretended to be anything other than who and what he was. And then I saw his work and I thought, Wow. Wow. The funny thing is, I had just moved in with this other guy, and I was so new to this thing called the gay scene. I wasn’t really comfortable in my own skin. And I was so not a grownup. Not at all like your dad.”
“So when did you start, you know, seeing him?”
“I think you were about ten. I ran into him at an art opening in L.A. I was on vacation and saw this thing in the LA Weekly about all the art openings in town. And there was your father’s name at some gallery. So I went.”
“Did you at least buy a painting?”
“I did buy a painting, as a matter of fact. And we started seeing each other. And then something happened.”
I looked at him with a question mark on my face.
“I ran. I was so scared of what I felt for your father that I ran. I ran as fast as I could. As far away as I could.” He shook his head. “It took me a long time to become a man.” It seemed he was still kind of upset with himself. Or maybe he was sad that it had taken so many years to become who he was today. I wondered how long it would take me to become whoever I was supposed to become. How many years? Before the start of the school year, I’d thought I was a totally calm kid who knew himself. But I wasn’t so sure anymore.
“You know what I told your dad?”
“What?”
“I told him I couldn’t handle kids. That was a lie. But I knew that for your father, that was a deal-breaker.”
The guy was being honest. I liked that. And he’d been scared. I got that. Because right now I was scared too. And maybe being scared was part of the whole growing-up thing, the whole living-life thing. “And did you tell my dad the truth? I mean now?”
“Yeah, I did. Why do you think he gave me another chance?”
“Well,” I said, “everybody deserves a second chance.”
You know, I guess love is a really scary thing. I hadn’t ever thought of that. I mean, I didn’t think that any of the crushes I’d ever had on girls qualified as love. I think I was the kind of guy who, well, if I fell in love, it was going to hurt. I just had a hunch.