American Sweethearts

by Adriana Herrera

  I sighed, feeling defensive and wanting to shove down my own thoughts about finding a way to fix things with Juan Pablo. I wanted to be a brat and tell my mother that there was no chance anything between J and me could work ever again. Because this was part of my issue, sometimes it felt like our relationship was a communal affair. That everything we did was under a microscope that got passed around to everyone we knew. It was exhausting, and I didn’t know if it would ever get less so.

  “Ma, I don’t have time to get involved with anyone right now. Work is hectic as always and I have my other projects.”

  As soon as I said other projects, my mom’s sunny expression changed. My parents weren’t exactly in the loop when it came to my side hustle, because no matter how much I wanted to front like I was a grown ass woman and I did whatever I wanted, there was one thing that I was not sure I’d ever be able to do—make a living doing something my parents couldn’t be proud of. And maybe that was me being vain. But they’d come from the DR because they wanted a future for their kids. And in the end it had just been me. After almost a decade of miscarriages and false alarms my mother finally had me, and I was it. The vessel for all their hopes and dreams. The reason why they’d left everything behind and come to this country. The least I could do was hold down a job that could make them feel like I’d been worth all that sacrifice. No matter how much I told myself what I wanted mattered, I knew I couldn’t bear seeing disappointment in my parents’ eyes.

  “Ay, mija, you put too much on your plate. I wish you could relax for a minute, not pile on so much. More than you need to.” She shook her head and ran the back of her hand over my cheek. “But you came by it honestly. All you saw in our house was a revolving door of your father and me coming and going to work. I wish we could’ve had more time to sit still. Spend it with you.”

  I put an arm around my mother, as we stood in one corner of Rafa’s community center, and thought about that. I had no resentment toward my parents. None. They worked hard, so I could have everything I needed. Everything they never got themselves and I knew from a young age that came at a cost.

  “Mamí, I grew up in a home where all I saw where two hardworking people who loved on each other and on me as much as they could. There is literally nothing to be sorry for. As for my side hustles, they’re fun for me and I like staying busy. I don’t have a relationship or kids that require my time when I’m not working. So, I do things that help me relax.”

  My mother’s back went up at my slipping in the no-kids thing, but she kept quiet. That was a fight that we’d put to rest years ago, and finally it seemed she’d accepted that there would be no grandchildren in her future. One more disappointment.

  “Are you going to come up for Christmas?”

  I shook my head at my mother’s question, as if she had to ask. “Claro Mami, where else would I be at Christmas?” I looked around trying to spot J, as I talked to my mom. For some reason it seemed important to know where he was right now. “Patrice and Easton invited a few of us to go up to Easton’s family’s cabin in the mountains for a couple of days after Christmas so I may do that too.”

  She looked a little disappointed she wouldn’t have me to herself for the whole week, but I’m sure the prospect of me being holed up in a mountain with J mollified her enough to not push. Just as I was about to ask when they wanted to go home, Irene, J’s mom, made an appearance.

  “Priscilla, sweetheart. Do you mind giving that boy of mine a ride home? He took an Uber over here, but he’s taking the dogs to his place for a few days, since Rafa and I are going up to the Hudson Valley.” I wasn’t one hundred percent convinced this wasn’t another ploy of the parents to get J and I together, but the request seemed reasonable enough. I knew we lived only like ten minutes away from each other, even though I’d never been to his new place.

  “Sure. Are the pups ready to go?”

  Irene nodded as my mother beamed at this new development. “Yes.” At that same moment Juan Pablo made an appearance carrying a tote bag with mesh sides which I assumed carried his parents’ two Yorkies. They were yappy little shits, but they were mostly harmless.

  My mother spoke before I could. “Juanpa mijo, we’re giving you a ride home today. Pris drove in her truck.” Then like the faker she was, she yawned like was about to fall asleep on her feet. “Pris is just going to take us home first. We’re driving back first thing tomorrow.”

  Wow my mother had legit no shame, but we all seemed to be playing this game tonight.

  “Sure. I’ll bring the truck around and get us going.” I turned to J’s mom, who was doing some kind of elaborate eyeball exchange with her son. “Irene, do you need help with clean up?”

  Irene waved me off as if I’d said the craziest thing she’s heard all day. “Oh no, hon. We got a few kids from the block all primed to go. Juan Pablo offered them twenty-five bucks a piece and they’re all waiting to get started.” With that she turned to give her baby boy the beatific smile I’d been seeing my whole life. “He loves to keep those kids motivated. He’s got half of them on staff helping out one way or another in the afternoons.” That was followed by a kiss and pinch on the cheek.

  This was why I’d kept my distance when I’d come back downstate. Getting sucked back into the block and J’s family was like a slippery slope. I had way too many things I needed to figure out and this was all too comfortable. Comfort was not my friend right now. Not when there was so much about the life I’d built that seemed ill-fitting and restrictive. Being back here with J and his family would mean having to perform. Act like everything was great. Chat up his dad about the precinct and the job, and I was so burnt out on all of it.

  “You okay, sweetheart?” I practically jumped at my mother’s question.

  “Yeah, of course.” Had to keep it moving, because my mother would be able to tell I was in fact, not okay, very easily. “I’ll bring the truck around. See you up front.” I didn’t look at J, because he’d see right through me too.

  Once the cold early-December air hit me I was able to get it together and soon we were driving out of the Bronx and up to Yonkers. And I should’ve known my mother would still be on her bullshit, because we were barely getting on the expressway when she spoke up from the backseat.

  “Mamita, can you take us first? Your daddy is so tired and we have to be on the road in the morning.”

  I turned for a second to look at my father’s face and could see he was trying very hard not to bust up. When I looked in the rearview mirror I saw that Juan Pablo was not faring any better sitting next to my mother. But I also knew there was no winning this, so I smiled and nodded.

  “Sure, Ma. Is that okay for you?” I looked at J in the mirror and he just shook his head, grinning.

  “Sure. I’m good with that.”

  I made a noise that would have to suffice as an acknowledgement and distracted myself by talking with my dad about their plans for the week and what route they were taking up to Ithaca. The drop-off involved long goodbyes and requests for J to come up and visit soon. As if this development of me and J driving off with his parents’ dogs to his place was nothing noteworthy.

  Chapter Ten

  Priscilla

  We didn’t talk much. Once I’d let my parents into my building and Juan Pablo was comfortably in the front seat with Tita and Pepe yapping their little fool heads off in the back, we headed to his place in almost complete silence. All the way there I had a feeling I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Not exactly comfortable, but not unpleasant either. It was a new kind of being together.

  I wanted him. I always did, but I didn’t feel helpless to it, and that made a difference.

  When I took the turn that lead to his fancy ass condo, he finally spoke. “You want to come up for a drink?”

  It was casual, no innuendo. No suggestive tone. A friend asking another to come up to his place for a nightcap after an evening of a lot
of family time. I’d pulled into one of the spots of the guest parking lot and looked up at the tall tower where J lived now. There was a lot of glass and metal and the view of the Hudson had to be amazing.

  I took my time to answer. “How far up are you?”

  His top lip twitched and I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or just laughing at my lame ass attempt to avoid giving him an answer. “I’m on the twelfth floor. I bought early so I got one of the units with a view of the river. It’s pretty baller. I have some prosecco in the fridge.”

  I laughed at his cajoling tone. He knew all my weaknesses. I didn’t get more time to think about it because Tita and Pepe started bitching again and made the decision for me.

  “Just for a minute. It is kind of ridiculous that I haven’t seen your place yet.”

  He’d been in it almost two years. At another time it would’ve seemed impossible for Juan Pablo to be living anywhere where I wasn’t present. A home of his that wasn’t at least partly my own.

  I got out the car and helped J get the dogs out of the carrier and on their leashes, so we could let them do their business before going up to his apartment. They were old hats at apartment life, so within a few minutes we were on the elevator with freshly relieved fluff balls.

  “Sorry about Mami,” I said. “She doesn’t take a day off, ever.”

  He laughed and gave me a long look that I couldn’t figure out. That was another thing that had happened in these last two years and with this new version of Juan Pablo. He was mysterious and so very calm. Nothing riled him up.

  “It’s fine. You know I have mad love for Maritza, besides Irene isn’t any better.”

  This was true, between my mother and his it was hard to tell who was thirstier for us to get together.

  “I was happy she suggested it. I’ve been meaning to invite you over to see my place.” Just as he said that the elevator doors opened and we walked into a well-lit hallway lined with white doors.

  It was nice. Really nice.

  I knew his grandfather had promised all his grandkids he’d help them buy their own place when they were ready, and that old man never let his family down.

  “This is really bougie, J. You fancy.” My tone was light, but his cheeks flushed.

  We got to the last apartment at the end of the hall with Tita and Pepe getting more and more excited the closer we got. He laughed when they started circling around by the door.

  “They stay over sometimes, so they’ve got a ton of toys and shit in here. They think this place is their vacation spot.”

  “Wow so this is what you get up to on the weekends these days. How the mighty fall, Juan Pablo Campos.”

  “Damn, Pris, you’re savage.” He laughed as he ran a hand over his fade, a flush of red staining his cheeks. “I do the parents a solid when they want to have some alone time. These little fuckers keep putting scratches on my hardwood floors too.” I laughed as the toy-sized dogs ran into the apartment with us close behind.

  I stepped in and had to take a deep breath.

  “J.” I moved to put down my bag and, with my jacket still on turned around the room, words failing me. What I was seeing was nothing that anyone else would find remotely remarkable, but I was having a hard time controlling my emotions. I looked at the wall-to-wall bookshelves on one side of the room. The blown-up photographs I’d taken on our many trips back to DR and PR and others from trips we’d taken together to Kenya and Ecuador, all hanging from a bright yellow wall. He even had the leather armchairs with a little table in between.

  Just like we’d always talked about.

  Like we’d said we’d set up our forever place. A big room with books, art and a comfortable spot to read together.

  He let me look around in silence as he leaned against the mantel of his gas fireplace. It wasn’t a huge room, but there were floor-to-ceiling windows facing the Hudson. I could imagine how great it would be to drink my morning coffee from one of those chairs with J next to me.

  I didn’t know why this was getting to me as much as it was. I wondered if he’d known what it would do to me to see this room. On second thought, I didn’t need to wonder. He knew exactly what I was thinking. Without any fucking warning my mouth started moving.

  “You know what’s funny?” I asked, giving my back to him as I studied the shelf where he’d put all the travel books we’d pored over before our many trips together. So many years of shared moments with J and here I was, walking into the place he’d been living for almost two years. The person who knew me the most in the whole world was in so many ways a stranger now.

  That thought filled me with sadness, and soon it was all coming out of me. “I always thought I was the one who wanted all this,” I said, as I lifted a hand to the framed photographs on the wall. “That part of the reason things seemed to always go awry was because I wanted something you didn’t.”

  I sat on the arm of the couch, listening to the soft snores of Tita and Pepe who were snuggled up on their little dog beds in one corner of the room. J, who was never one to rush into an answer, especially one that might lead to an argument, took me in. His stance closed off. Cautious.

  His arms crossed over his chest and his eyes focused on something far away. I looked at him and thought once again, how much I missed having him in my life. How I wished things could be different, that I could be different, and able to let go more. When he finally spoke it was like thunder crackling through the room.

  “When have you ever known me to do something I didn’t want to do?” He pushed off the mantel and walked over to stand in front of me. And because when it came to Juan Pablo Campos my body was a traitorous bitch, I had to dig my fingernails into my palms to keep from touching him. “The issues we’ve had were never about us not wanting the same things. They were about us being too stubborn to make the changes we needed to make for that to happen.”

  I could feel my hackles going up, my mouth pursing, ready to curse him out. Tell him that it was easy for him to call me stubborn when he’d never had to wonder if his choices would trap him. But like he’d been doing since we got on that plane to the DR, Juan Pablo surprised me.

  “And you know, that’s not fair for me to say. I never had to wonder what I’d lose when I decided not to go to the academy. I knew I had a backup plan and Nonno would help me with grad school if I wanted that. I knew my parents didn’t need my help or wouldn’t in the future. Your choices were always harder, and you’ve never shied away from them.”

  He smiled bitterly then, and looked up to the ceiling. “My choices were never that hard, and when it came down to a difficult one, I bailed on the idea of being a cop without a second thought. Even when it meant breaking my promise to you.”

  I’d been waiting for him to say that for over ten years, to admit that he’d broken my trust, and it left me cold to realize that hearing the guilt and sadness as he spoke brought me no relief.

  I shifted where I was sitting again, trying to keep myself from reaching out to him. “We were kids, J, and becoming a cop isn’t exactly something you want to do just to keep your girlfriend happy.” I let myself slide onto the chair, since it was clear this conversation was long from over. “I was unreasonable, and I wonder now...”

  Shit, this was something I’d avoided telling even myself, and because this new Juan Pablo always seemed to know the right thing to do, he sat down on the couch next to me and waited me out. “I wonder if the reason why I could never get past you backing out of the academy was because I was scared I’d made a mistake by joining.”

  At that his eyes widened, as if he couldn’t really believe he’d heard me right.

  “It’s hard to remember sometimes that the hard ass thing is not who you are.” He shook his head and closed his eyes as if the words he needed were somewhere deep inside, in a place where he didn’t think he’d need to go looking ever again. “I never pushed or asked if thin
gs weren’t going well because I thought if I did it would just start a fight. Like you’d forget I’d bailed on you and bringing it up would remind you.”

  He was still regarding me with that knowing gaze he’d been sending my way lately, and I decided to say the last of this, and be done. “It’s not that I did this against my will. I like being a cop. I feel useful and it gives me purpose. But it hasn’t been easy and I think in those moments when I want to quit—when I wonder if I can keep tolerating the toxic shit that always seems to be sitting right under the surface—that if I vent to you I’ll get a big ‘I told you so.’ If I mention it to my parents that they’ll be disappointed.”

  The relief of being able to say that felt like an anvil had been lifted off my shoulders. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that in the end it was to J I’d been able to say what I’d been holding in for what felt like eons.

  He looked down at the little marble top roundtable between us. I could tell he was trying hard to figure out how to say whatever he was thinking. “I’m going to say this now, too late probably for it to make a real difference.” His voice was earnest, like he needed me to hear how important this was. “I’m sorry I ever made you feel like you couldn’t tell me how you were feeling.”

  I swallowed hard and took a few deep breaths. This was so much more than I’d been ready to deal with today. It felt good to hear him say that though, and I knew it was the truth because despite all the ups and downs, he was right, Juan Pablo had never lied to me. When I finally opened my mouth to speak, I found that I felt light. Freer somehow.

  “Thank you, and don’t whine when I’m over here all the time complaining about everything. You asked for it, Juan Pablo.” I winked at him and he blushed again. I leaned in closer, just because the more I sat here with him, the less sense it made to have any distance between us. That old ache of constant want that ravaged me when he was close wreaking havoc on all my boundaries.