by Alexis Daria
“All right, you’re forgiven for the engagement party crack, but only because you brought cannoli. And don’t repeat the joke because that’s how rumors start and it’s the absolute last thing I need right now.”
Sammy laughed, bumped fists with Gabe, and moved on into the house.
Despite her reassurances to Gabe, Michelle had to admit that this seemed like more than just a family barbecue. Her dad and Gabe’s had removed part of the fence separating their backyards so various Rodriguez and Aguilar relatives could move between both houses with ease. Her sister and brother were both there with their spouses and kids. Gabe’s sister was there with her family, and it seemed like all of his aunts and uncles had shown up, along with some cousins. Ava and her mother were there, and Jasmine had brought Ashton and his son, Yadiel. Michelle’s Puerto Rican grandparents were there, along with her mom’s sister and her dad’s brother.
Large house parties weren’t uncommon in her family, but Sammy’s joke made Michelle wonder what exactly her mother had told everyone the occasion was. She wouldn’t put it past Valentina to claim this was a “pre-engagement” party, despite the number of times Michelle had told her she didn’t plan to ever get married.
Her suspicions grew as the night wore on and she and Gabe fielded increasingly invasive questions. The most common was “When’s the wedding?” but everyone also wanted to know if Gabe was moving back to New York. Titi Nita, Sammy and Ronnie’s mom, announced that she’d had a dream where Michelle moved to Los Angeles to take over Jasmine’s empty apartment. Jasmine made a mad dash out of the room when that one came up. And at least two people asked Michelle when she was going to get a “real job” again. She didn’t have the energy to fight back with more than “I already have a real job.”
When Michelle had quit corporate and made the decision to go freelance, no one had understood why she’d give up a secure position—with benefits!—to work from home. One of her great-aunts had even implied that Michelle—and her entire generation—were lazy, and Ava had dragged Michelle away before she told a viejita what she could do with her opinions about millennials.
After Sammy toasted Gabe with his beer and gave an elaborate speech welcoming him to the family, Ava pulled Michelle aside.
“This is getting out of hand,” Ava warned in a low voice. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Abuela’s already booked a priest.”
“I’m not getting married and even if I were, it certainly wouldn’t be in a church,” Michelle retorted. “Why do they all have to be so extra about everything?”
“Not everything,” Ava mused. “Just relationships.”
Michelle patted her cousin’s hand. A few of their relatives had acted like it was such a shame that Ava had gotten divorced, like she was defective in some way. The number of times they’d heard “Ay, qué pena” that year had irritated Michelle to no end, but Ava had forbidden her from telling them off.
It was a recurring theme. Michelle wanted to curse someone out, and Ava talked her down.
Now, Ava was looking at her with unmasked concern. “How much longer are you two going to let this go on?”
It was a good question, but one Michelle didn’t have a clear answer to. Originally it had seemed like they were just going to enjoy this time together while he was here, but now, everyone else was involved too. Would they expect that she and Gabe would still be together every time he traveled here for something related to the gym? What did Gabe expect? What did he want?
Michelle knew what she wanted. She wanted more of him, however she could get him.
But it didn’t seem like he wanted that.
“He said he was going to buy his return ticket today.” Michelle worried her lower lip with her teeth. “Other than that . . . I don’t know.”
Since she hadn’t seen Gabe in a while, Michelle decided to go looking for him. This house party was exactly the kind of situation he’d been trying to avoid, and he’d already tried to make a run for it once. She wouldn’t put it past him to do it again.
AFTER NOT SEEING any close relatives other than his sister for nearly a decade, Gabe was completely and totally overwhelmed.
His parents’ house was a little smaller than Michelle’s, and his mother had a fondness for oversized furniture and ceramic knickknacks. As a result, the Aguilar home was always a little tighter and more cramped than strictly necessary—probably why Gabe valued open space and a lack of clutter in his own habitat. Now, filled with all the aunts, uncles, and cousins who still lived in the tri-state area, the Aguilar house felt stuffed to the gills. No one had wanted to miss the return of the prodigal son, a phrase Gabe heard no less than four times over the course of the night.
Nikki drove down with Patrick and the kids, and Lucy and Oliver grabbed Gabe’s hands and dragged him up to his old bedroom as soon as they arrived. Upstairs, they peppered him with a million questions and asked if they could have his old toys, which, to Gabe’s surprise, were boxed up and still in his closet.
At the bedroom door, Nikki sent Gabe a disapproving grimace. “I can see our talk really sank in,” she murmured.
“I’m working on it,” he ground out in response, and then lost his breath when Oliver leaped onto his back and demanded a piggyback ride.
Later, after eating his fill of carne asada, Gabe was in the living room catching up with a couple of his cousins when Tío Marco barreled into the house like a freight train.
“Where is he?” Marco yelled, and when he spotted Gabe, he made a beeline for him and caught him up in a bone-crushing hug.
“Hey, Nino,” Gabe said, returning the hug.
“You finally came back, huh, Squirt?” His uncle clapped him hard on the back.
The old nickname drew a laugh from Gabe. Their bond, at least, was like no time had passed at all, but he was struck by how alike they looked. Marco could have been his older brother.
Gabe’s parents had been born in Mexico and Puerto Rico, and while most of their immediate families had also ended up in the New York–New Jersey area, Tío Marco had been Gabe’s closest adult support. He’d only been twenty-one when Gabe was born, and he’d taken his role as godfather seriously.
Marco eased back, but he kept an arm slung around Gabe’s shoulders. “Remember,” he said, leaning in so the relatives swarming the living room wouldn’t overhear, “if you need help dealing with him, just ask.”
Gabe swallowed hard. “I know. Thanks.”
After Nikki’s wedding, Tío Marco had texted Gabe to say he understood where Gabe was coming from and he’d respect his choices, but if he ever wanted help bridging the gap with Esteban, he’d be there. More than anyone, Marco understood what it was like to be raised by Esteban, who was ten years older than him and had become a surrogate father figure after their own father passed away.
“And what’s this I hear about una mujer?” Tío Marco raised his eyebrows.
Gabe didn’t have the heart to tell his godfather the truth about him and Michelle, so he just nodded, and a moment later his parents came over to greet Marco.
Somehow Gabe ended up back over in Michelle’s backyard, and after her abuela confessed to shoulder pain, he’d escorted the older woman inside for a quick treatment in the Amatos’ living room, the only quiet spot in either house. That was where Michelle found him.
“What are you doing to my grandmother?” Michelle asked, walking over to them.
Esperanza looked up with a grimace. “Tu novio está arreglando mi hombro.”
“Fixing your shoulder?” Michelle frowned. “What’s wrong with your shoulder, ’buela?”
“Estoy vieja,” Esperanza said with a laugh, then winced. “Ay, mira, Gabriel. Cuidadito con mi cuerpo.”
Gabe smiled widely to set her at ease. “No te preocupes, señora. I’m very careful.”
Michelle sat and watched while he pressed his fingers into the space around Esperanza’s scapula, instructing her to move her arm back and forth. If this hadn’t been second nature for him, Michelle’s curious g
aze might have distracted him. When he was done, he stood back.
“How does it feel?” he asked.
Esperanza moved her arm experimentally, and then her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Es mejor.”
“See?” Gabe helped her to her feet. “Sometimes there’s a little discomfort but it’s better in the end. Please remember to ice it.”
“Es un milagro.” Esperanza took Gabe’s face in both hands and patted his cheeks. “Gracias, muchacho.”
“De nada, Doña Esperanza.”
Esperanza turned and gave her granddaughter a wink, then left them alone in the living room.
Gabe sank onto the sofa and sagged forward, resting his arms on his knees. Michelle rubbed his back, her hand warm and comforting through the fabric of his T-shirt. While he was tempted to curl up with her right here in the quiet living room, he was too worn out.
“What the fuck are we doing?” he whispered, his voice bleak.
She let out a soft sigh. “Ava thinks we should give up the ruse.”
“So does Nikki.” He rubbed his face with one hand, but the other reached for Michelle’s, and he twined their fingers together. “She cornered me in my old bedroom next door. Did you know my stuff is still over there?”
Michelle shook her head. “I haven’t been in your house much since you left.”
Of course she hadn’t. Why would she?
“I mean, it’s all in boxes in the closet. But there’s the same furniture, and my mom didn’t throw any of my things away. She said she was keeping it for when I came back.” He pressed his fingers to his eyes, trying not to think about how awful he’d felt when his mom had dropped that tidbit. “I don’t know how we get out of this, Mich. They’re all expecting . . . something.”
“They’re imagining wedding bells,” she mused. “Alas, they’re in for a disappointment.”
Gabe met her gaze, a pit opening in his stomach, despite all the Mexican, Puerto Rican, and Italian food he’d consumed that night. “You’re the one who’s going to bear the brunt of it when I leave.”
Because he was watching her carefully, he noted the moment her eyes shuttered and her chin firmed. But she didn’t reply. Instead, she got to her feet and gave him a tug. “Come on. If we disappear for too long they’re going to expect me to come back with a ring.”
Gabe groaned, but let her pull him to his feet and back out to the party.
That night, they collapsed into bed next to each other, exhausted.
“I forgot what these family gatherings are like,” he muttered.
“It’s so much worse being the center of attention,” she agreed, sounding tired. “Did you buy your plane ticket?”
“Fuck. I forgot.” He exhaled heavily. “I’ll do it tomorrow. My parents asked me to come over to talk before I leave.”
It amazed him that he’d managed to put off this conversation as long as he had. His parents had been civil all evening, playing the charming hosts, but Gabe knew their patience was running out. They were going to want answers.
He still had no idea what to tell them.
Michelle stayed quiet, rubbing his bare chest in soothing circles. Gabe caught her hand and pulled her closer. And despite his bone-deep weariness, he didn’t drift off until she’d fallen asleep in his arms.
MICHELLE WAS ALREADY gone when Gabe woke the next morning. Before he could even stand from the bed, his phone buzzed with an incoming call. It was Fabian. Gabe subtracted three hours from the time and—fuck, it was super early in California. After nearly a week in New York, Gabe was just starting to acclimate to the time difference. Why the hell was Fabian even awake?
He quickly accepted the call and held the phone to his ear.
“Fabian? What’s up? Everything okay?”
On the other end, Fabian let out a long, slow sigh. “Man, you don’t even know . . .”
“Tell me. Is everything okay?”
“It’s Iris. She went into labor earlier than we expected. We went to the hospital, they did an emergency C-section, and the twins, they’re . . .”
“They’re what?” Gabe’s hand clenched around the phone as he waited to hear.
“They’re fine. More than fine, actually. They’re beautiful, they’re perfect, but they’re here. Now.”
“Whoa. Congratulations, man.”
“Thanks. But now my wife is recovering from labor, my mom’s leg is in a cast, and my dad is still having heart surgery in a week. Plus I have two premature babies to take care of. The fucking nursery isn’t even done yet.”
“Shit. Is there anything I can do? Do you need help?”
“Thanks, man. My sister is flying in from Florida tonight. She’s going to stay for three months. We’ll make it. But Gabe—something’s gotta give.”
Gabe’s skin chilled at Fabian’s fatalistic tone. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I need more flexibility right now. More time. And not just right now, but for the foreseeable future. What I’m saying is—” Fabian took a deep breath, let it out. “I’m saying we should sell the gym. Powell is ready to buy us out. We’re already in over our heads with one location. How are we supposed to handle New York too? And I know you don’t want to be going out there all the time for every little thing. This is the best deal we’re going to get, and I think we should take it.”
“Wait.” Gabe pressed a hand to his forehead. “Powell already approached you about selling?”
“Dude, Powell’s been on me about selling. For, like, two years. He wants to turn it into a franchise. I told him we weren’t interested. But after meeting you and your girl last week, he called me and sweetened the deal. Sorry to spring all this on you at once. I should’ve told you about Powell’s offer as soon as it happened. With everything going on, I haven’t had a chance to think about it myself, let alone tell you the details.”
“What’s the offer?” Gabe asked numbly.
Fabian recited a number that made Gabe’s stomach drop.
“Holy shit,” he whispered.
“I know. He thinks the New York location is going to be a hit. He’s offered to buy me out and partner with you, or he’ll buy both of us out and take it from there. If you did that, you’d be free. No more New York trips. No more calendar alerts. No more emails.”
Gabe blinked, lost in his own thoughts. A week ago, that’s all he would have wanted, a reason not to manage the New York branch, a way out of coming back home.
But deep down, he’d also wanted for it to be a knockout success, so he could finally prove to his father that he didn’t need him.
And maybe, finally, receive the validation he’d always craved.
It was all slipping out of reach now, his dreams turning to sand and falling through his fingers. Part of Gabe wished he could tell Fabian to figure it out, that they were in this together, that they couldn’t give up.
Another part of him wished he were strong enough to do this on his own, without Fabian, without Powell. If he didn’t need them so much, he wouldn’t be proving that his father had been right all along.
He couldn’t do it alone.
And he had to admit part of him wanted the excuse to visit New York more frequently. And while it was mostly to explore whatever he had going with Michelle, it was also so he could see his family. His parents, his sister and her kids, even his aunts and uncles. He’d missed them all. The party last night had shown him he had a lot of lost time to make up for.
But selling the gym hadn’t been on his radar. It was his, the closest thing he had to a baby. To sell it all off in one fell swoop seemed wrong. It felt like giving up.
Fabian had his family, a home, and now, his children. His life was full without Agility.
But it wasn’t Fabian’s name on the gym, it was Gabe’s—the proof that he’d made something big of himself, that he’d done what his father couldn’t.
That leaving New York—leaving Michelle—had been worth it.
“I gotta think,” Gabe finally said. “Go be with your famil
y. We’ll talk later.”
“Let me know. And Gabe—I’m sorry, man. I know this isn’t an easy choice.”
It is for you, Gabe thought. But he just wished his friend well and hung up.
It was easy for Fabian because he had something more important in his life than the gym. But for Gabe, the gym was part of his identity. Without it?
He’d have nothing. He’d be nothing.
But shit, it was a lot of fucking money on the table.
What else could he do? He couldn’t buy out Fabian’s share of the company himself. And the thought of running the business with Powell made him cringe.
Already, he could feel it slipping away from him. Fabian would sell. It was the right choice for him, and Gabe couldn’t fault him for that. With Fabian’s education and experience, he’d be able to book a consulting gig or pick up a teaching contract no problem, something with fewer hours and less responsibility.
Gabe, on the other hand . . .
He thought about Michelle’s presentation, and the truth he hadn’t wanted to see. Her observations had highlighted the glaring disconnect between what he’d envisioned for the business and what it had become.
A calendar alert beeped on his phone. He was supposed to visit his parents this morning, to “talk.” He’d come all this way to prove to his father that he was a success. And in the end, he was going to have to go over there and admit he was a failure. Because what else could he do but sell?
Sell, and be left with nothing to call his own. Or keep the gym and partner with Powell, who would steamroll him at every turn, or use him as the face of the company and nothing more. A poster boy. A diversity prop.
Fabian deserved an answer soon, so he could focus on his family. It wasn’t fair for Gabe to drag this out, to leave it hanging over Fabian’s head while he labored over the decision, pushing it off until he tied things up here with his parents and Michelle.
If only he could go to his parents for advice. His father had been in this position before, had made the hard decision to close his business. But what if he’d regretted it? He’d hated the retail manager job he’d been forced to take after closing the store. Maybe he’d advise Gabe to tough it out, to hold on no matter what. Or maybe he’d tell him to take the money and move on.
