Sam took the wheel and drove us home. “I want a car,” she said.
“You have to pay for cars,” my dad said. “Are you ready to make payments on a car?”
“I’m ready,” she said.
I believed she was.
Fito turned off his phone. He was always fooling with it. “It’s almost New Year’s,” he said. “That means we get to start over.”
“You believe that?” I asked.
“Maybe. Maybe I just wanna believe it.”
“I wanna believe it too.”
“Then believe it,” my dad said. “What’s stopping you?”
“I believe it,” Sam said.
“Let’s do something great this New Year’s Eve.”
“I’m for that,” my dad said.
“Me too,” I said.
New Year’s Eve
I WAS HANGING OUT with Maggie and Dad after our morning run. Dad was looking at the cigarette he was holding. “I hate these things.”
“But you love them too.”
He laughed. “Yeah.”
“You said it was an uncomplicated relationship. That wasn’t true, was it?”
“Guess not.” He lit his cigarette. “What’s the plan for New Year’s?”
“Me, Sam, and Fito were thinking of going across the border to New Mexico and getting some fireworks and shooting them off in the desert.”
“Oh yeah? You got a car?”
“Don’t be a wiseass, Dad.”
“That’s a sore subject with you, isn’t it?”
“I’m the last boy in America who doesn’t have a car.”
“Not true.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Wow, I guess I’ve sent you straight to the therapist’s couch.”
“What? Are you taking lessons from Sam?”
“You have money in the bank. You can buy a clunker if you want.”
“You never said that.”
“I never said you couldn’t have a car. All I said was that I wasn’t going to buy one for you.”
“Oh shit! You mean I could have bought a car?”
“Yeah.” My dad was laughing. “Not my fault you didn’t think of it.” He rubbed my hair. “Joke’s on you.”
I didn’t have a choice. I had no one to blame but me. So I sat there laughing at myself.
Then I looked at my dad. “How come you didn’t want to buy me a car?”
“I gave you everything you needed. But not everything you wanted. I didn’t want you to grow up to be an entitled brat. A lot of kids, their parents get them everything and the kids do a new kind of math: I want equals I get. As you like to say, no bueno.” He put out his cigarette. “Anyway, we have reservations at Café Central tonight. Marcos is treating us to a New Year’s dinner.”
“He must be in the bucks.”
“He does all right. Everything he has, he came by honestly. I respect that.”
“Does this mean we have to dress up?”
“Yeah. What, you married to your jeans?”
“You’re funny today, Dad.”
“I got up feisty, I guess.”
“Well, can Fito go?”
“He’s included. The reservation is for five.”
That made me smile. “Marcos likes Fito, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah. Marcos had a tough childhood. I guess he sees himself in that kid.” He played with his pack of cigarettes. “Besides, we all like Fito. He’s a wonderful guy. Pisses me off that his family never gave a damn.”
I nudged him with my shoulder. “Dad, I think I like you a little feisty.”
He nudged me back. “It’s been a weird year. Beautiful. Hard. Sad. Get your fireworks. We can shoot them off after dinner.”
So I told Sam that we’re having dinner at Café Central. And she was dancing around the living room. “New dress! New dress!”
“Like you have all this cash lying around.”
“No, but you do.”
“Really,” I said. “Really?”
“What are brothers for?”
Dad lent me the car, and we were off to buy a dress. For Sam. Even Fito came along, but only because we were going to buy fireworks.
Sam tried on about twenty dresses. She looked great in all of them. And Fito, after Sam looked at herself in a mirror and shook her head again, Fito, he finally lost it. “Sam, you make me feel all happy and shit that I’m gay. Straight guys have to put up with this shit. Gay guys not so much.”
I was grinning, and Sam was crossing her arms and giving us a look that said, Guys suck: gay or straight, guys suck. And then Fito walked to this rack, picked out a long red gown, handed it to Sam, and said, “This.” And he smiled.
Sam took the dress, looked at the size, and walked into the dressing room. She came out, inspected herself in the mirror, turned this way, that way, then turned around and smiled at Fito. “You are gay!”
We couldn’t stop laughing. Just couldn’t stop.
Sam bought the dress. Well, I bought the dress.
But do you think she was finished there? Nope. She picked out a shirt for me. And a shirt for Fito. Oh yeah, and ties. Sam, she was all about new clothes. “Dress like men,” she told us.
We drove on the 10 right past the state line. New Mexico! Fireworks!
When we walked into the restaurant, I thought Fito’s eyes were going to pop out. He looked at me and whispered, “Holy shit! People, like—?they live like this?”
Sam kissed him on the cheek. “I love you to pieces, Fito.”
Sam was the most beautiful woman in the room. No one else even came close.
At dinner, Sam was all about taking pics. The Facebook thing. Made me crazy. Marcos ordered a bottle of champagne. He and Dad were at ease in places like this. They were used to going out to nice places and traveling and all that. Me, I wasn’t quite used to it.
We toasted Mima. My dad raised his glass. “I know it’s hard,” he said softly,“but we have to remember we’ll always have her with us.” I think he was talking to me more than to anyone else. So we raised our glasses to Mima. And then I said, “And to the mulberry tree Popo planted.” My dad smiled at me. So we toasted that beautiful tree. We talked about everything that happened to us in the past year. Then Sam turned to Marcos and asked, “What’s the best thing that’s happened to you this year?”
He smiled. “That’s easy.” He pointed at my dad. Then he pointed at Fito. Then he pointed at me. And then he pointed at Sam.
Sam said, “You’re just trying to charm me into liking you, aren’t you?”
Marcos nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
Sam smiled. “Well, it’s working.”
Of course she had to invent some kind of game. Of course she did. “Okay,” she said over dessert, “New Year’s resolutions.”
I said, “I don’t do resolutions.”
She didn’t skip a beat. “That’s part of your problem.”
And I didn’t skip a beat either. “Okay. I resolve not to kill you this year, even when you use my razor to shave your legs.”
“You’re such a girl about that.”
Fito cracked up. And so did Marcos. Dad, not so much. He was used to us.
“Seriously: New Year’s resolutions.”
Fito went first. “I’m going to try and stop beating up on myself. Yeah, that idea came from the therapist. But, you know, I like it.” Everyone clapped.
Sam nudged him: “Just don’t go overboard.”
Dad said, “I’m going to quit smoking.” More applause.