by Royal Blue
“You say that about everything,” I say, humor lacing my words.
“It’s the truth. In my day, you valued your sport. You put work into it. Now—” He waves his hand. “There’s no dedication.”
“I can see that,” Beau says. “Things weren’t as easy back then. A lot of entitlement colors multiple professions these days. I try to teach my fighters better.”
“You’re old-school. Your father raised you the old way. I can tell. It makes a difference, you know. A pitcher, boxer, driver, it doesn’t matter. Your values show in your performance. I like a boxer with integrity. It makes for a better fight,” Papi says.
“I hear you,” Beau adds, placing his arm behind me on the back of couch.
“Four weeks. How are you feeling about this fight?” Papi asks.
“I honestly don’t know.” The words pour out of Beau’s mouth, seeming to surprise even him. “I mean, physically I’m ready. I don’t think I’ll have a problem going twelve rounds. Beyond that, I’m still working some things out for myself.”
“I will tell you like I’ve been told and like I’ve told every fighter I’ve worked with. A man decides a fight’s outcome in his heart before he steps in the ring. Your heart will guide you to the end of the fight. We will all be here to see what that outcome will be,” Papi says.
The struggle happening within is written all over Beau’s face. I didn’t bring him here to stress out about the fight. This was supposed to be a day to chill and relax.
“Come on, I’ll show you my old room,” I say to Beau. “We’ll be back.”
Papi waves us off and turns back to his game. Beau and I go upstairs. I smile at the memories lining the walls. Photo, awards, and degrees are all displayed proudly. Beau stops midway up to the landing.
“You have a master’s in social science?”
“Yeah, that would be me,” I say. “World of good it has done me.”
“What else don’t I know about you?”
“Come on.” I wave him forward. “Let’s see what you can learn about me in my room.”
I have my fluorite stone in my hand as we step into my old room. I think I’m more anxious about having him in here than I am about being in the tightly spaced house. Although my room seems so much smaller with the two of us in here. We can fit this room into our bedroom at least four times.
“Check you out. You were a lady’s man in high school,” he teases as he looks at old pictures tacked to my wall.
“How do you know that’s me and not Andres?”
There are a number of pictures with me and my twin, but there are some that are of one or the other. Most people have to ask which of us is in which. The picture in question is one I’ve been asked about a million times. Most people assume it’s Andres.
He shrugs. “I know you. It’s… I don’t know how to describe it. You just have this way about you.”
He turns and looks me over from head to toe. The desire in the appraisal is palpable. I move closer and wrap my arms around his waist. “You’re the first boy I’ve ever had in my room,” I say and bite my lip.
“Your father still has a great right hook. You’re not getting my ass kicked and my mama called,” he says with mirth dancing in his eyes.
“Whatever.” I laugh. “I have a few photo albums. Come here.”
I lead him to sit on the bed, and we get lost in the albums. We’re laughing about a few old photos of Andres and me, when music starts to blare up the stairs. Excitement hits and memories flood my brain. Good memories.
“Come on, you have to see this,” I say, closing the album and tucking it away.
I jog down the stairs as Marc Anthony’s version of “Mi Gente” plays. Just as I knew I would, I find Papi dancing Mommy around the small living room. They still have it. I’ve loved watching this since I was a little boy.
Papi twirls Mommy and it’s like watching them fifteen years ago. They haven’t aged in my eyes. Mommy bursts with laughter and joy as she stops spinning. Of course my father shows off, dipping my moms and kissing her throat.
The song changes and my parents really show off as they start to bachata to Prince Royce singing “La Carretera.” It’s a beautiful song of a lost love and seeking that lover once more. My parents do the melody justice as they move in a sensual dance like only they can.
“Come on, m’ijo. Teach Beau how it’s done,” Papi croons.
I laugh, but I reach for Beau’s hand and pull him to me. Beau’s cheeks turn pink as he starts to stumble through the first few steps. He’s adorable.
“Let me lead,” I say as I place a hand on his hip and guide him.
“Ay, no, no,” Papi says, coming to stand behind Beau. “Move with the music, hijo mio.”
In this moment my heart swells. My father just called my husband his son, and he’s legit showing Beau how to bachata with me, moving his hips to the alluring rhythm of the music and everything. I turn to my moms, and she has a shaky hand covering her mouth as tears well in her eyes.
“Now you have it. Sí, si, you’re a Hernández yet,” Papi says, cupping Beau’s face and kissing his check. “Síguele, síguele.”
“Good job, Beau,” Mommy says. “Very good.”
“Not bad at all, cowboy,” I tease.
“You’re not bad yourself,” he says, wiping at the tears that have slipped free. He leans into my ear. “He has always been proud of you. No matter what. Have no regrets, your choices brought you to me.”
I purse my lips and nod. Beau kisses me, and I spin him, not able to say all the things I’m feeling. We dance in the small living room, with my parents, and for once, I’m present in my childhood home. Nothing else can tear me away.
Beau
“Ready to get into some real trouble?” Angel asks, placing the car in park.
I lean in to kiss his nose. “As long as it’s with you, I’m ready.”
Angel gives me that breathtaking smile that I’ve had the pleasure of seeing all day, and gets out of the car. When he leads us into our next destination, I’m a little caught off guard. I wasn’t expecting the next stop to be a tattoo parlor. I turn to Angel with a mix of amusement and curiosity.
Angel’s smile turns mischievous. Before I can question him, a guy comes from the back, heading for us. The two clasp hands and pull each other in for a shoulder tap.
“What’s good, Angel? I was hyped to get your text. Good to see you, bro,” the guy says.
“Nothing much. Good to see you too. Beau, this is Dexter. He did most of my work,” Angel says.
“What’s up? Nice to meet you,” Dexter says, giving me a knowing grin and clasping my hand to pull me in for the same shoulder bump he gave Angel.
“Nice to me you too,” I reply.
“I have that artwork if you’re ready,” he says to Angel.
“Let’s go.”
Angel locks our fingers together, and we follow Dexter to the back. Once in the private room, Angel pulls his shirt off. My gaze follows the fluid ripple of his muscle. I’m surprised when Angel sits in the chair with his back to Dexter. I’d assumed he was getting something on his chest since his back is covered.
“You can have a seat right here, bro.” Dexter points to the seat placed next to where Angel is.
I sit, searching Angel’s grinning face. Dexter moves to get to work. Angel winks at me but doesn’t give away what he’s up to. I cock a brow at him, and he shrugs.
“I’m going to need you to loosen your jeans and push them down a bit,” Dexter says.
Now I’m really curious. Angel releases his belt and pushes his pants down his hips a bit. Dexter bobs his head to himself as he places the sheet of paper with the design on Angel’s lower back.
“All right, you want to take a look at the position and design before I get started?” Dexter says.
Angel gets up and turns his back to the mirror, looking over his shoulder. Dexter holds up a second mirror to help Angel see it better. When I see what the design is, I can’t stop smili
ng.
“You’re getting my name tatted on your back?”
“Pretty much,” he croons. “You’ve been my strength. You always have my back, my support when I need it most.”
I just sit and stare. Today has been a day full of simple things that have meant so much. It encompasses the simplicity of who we are. But this… in all its simplicity has driven home our love in a new way.
“Can you put his name in that exact same style?” I ask Dexter.
“Sure can. Same spot?”
“No, mine belongs over my heart.”
Chapter 42
Completion
Beau
“You guys ready for this?” Emma says, holding her hands over her little baby bump as she walks over to me and Angel.
My sister is glowing. Pregnancy looks good on her. Across the open apartment a happy Andres is tickling both Billy and Aryanna. Our home is full of family, making the vast open space seem warm and cozy. Even with the view open to the city skyline, the setting has become intimate and homey with all of our loved ones.
I couldn’t be more ready for today. It seems like it has taken forever to get here. Yet we made it.
“Are you kidding? We’ve been waiting for long enough,” Angel says, speaking my exact thoughts. He moves to throw an arm around Emma’s shoulders. She moves her hand to allow him to rub her bump, bringing a smile to my face.
“I know, but you guys have been a family since the day she moved in,” Emma says.
Her words hit home. We have. No court, no judge, no documents can change what we’ve known in our hearts. We’ve been a family from a lot longer than the day Billy moved in.
“What about you? Are you getting ready for this little one to arrive?” Angel asks, releasing her.
“Ugh, I’m just happy the morning sickness stopped. Like, it came out of nowhere. As soon as I told everyone, it was like bam.”
We laugh at her as she rolls her eyes and shakes her head. Morning sickness or not, we both know that hasn’t slowed my sister down. She has been planning her wedding full steam ahead.
“You just let me know if there’s anything we can do for you,” I say, tucking her under my arm and kissing her forehead.
“Oh, you guys are totally babysitting. No worries. I’m making a schedule for rotation,” she says.
“Darlin’, I’m there. Just call.”
Mama walks over with a glass of ice-cold water for Emma. I don’t think my mama could be happier with the new additions to her life. I do believe Billy’s cheeks have gotten chubbier because of Mama.
“She’s having such a great time,” Mama says as she beams.
Billy is now talking animatedly to Kyle and Andy across the room. She’s probably talking them into another game. I think we’ve been playing once a week now.
“She’s going to be so excited when you guys tell her,” Emma says.
“You boys make me so proud,” Mama says. “I think we should go ahead and cut the cake. How about you?”
“I’m ready,” I say and look at Angel. “You ready, baby?”
“Let’s make this official,” he says.
Mama rushes off to get the cake she baked for Billy. She insisted we let her make it and not buy one like we wanted. When Angel and I couldn’t decide if we wanted to get a princess cake or one shaped like a basketball, we relented and let Mama take care of it.
“Showtime,” Angel says and goes to get our gift to Billy.
Before he can get too far, Billy runs over to him and wraps her arms around his waist. Whatever Angel says to her makes her laugh that beautiful laugh. I take out my phone and capture the moment.
“You’re going to run out of space soon,” Emma teases. “I love the photos you text me. I can see how much you love her. Daddy would be so proud of you.”
This time as my sister says those words, they don’t have a bitter taste. I feel them and take them to heart. I think my daddy would’ve been proud of my family. Although it aches that he’ll never meet Angel or Billy, I can honestly say I’m doing right by my daddy.
“I think you’re right,” I say and cover her bump with my hand. “He’d be proud of you too.”
“Yeah, I think so,” she says as she tears up.
“Come on, everybody, let’s sing Billy happy birthday,” Mama says as she comes out with the candles already lit. “Get over here and have a seat, sugar.”
Billy releases Angel and runs over to take a seat. As she runs over with her ponytails bouncing, I swear I can see the years play forward: her sweet sixteen, her prom, graduation, her wedding day, the day she becomes a mom—I want to be there for them all. I send up a prayer that I am.
Angel
“Happy birthday, dear Billy. Happy birthday to you,” we all sing as we surround a smiling Billy.
She blows out her candles and everyone cheers. Beau and I move to her side, and I hand her the envelope we put together for her. I stand with bated breath as she opens it, Beau clutching my hand tightly in his.
“Dear Billy,” she reads and looks up to grin at us. “We couldn’t be happier to announce that you are officially Bienvendia Desiree Hernández-Dalton. Our Billy. Happy tenth birthday, baby girl. Welcome home for good. Love, Angel and Beau.”
Bienvenda.
Billy’s given name means welcome. It’s fitting for who she is and what she means in our life. With a shaky hand, she flips the page to the officially signed documents. My heart melts when her nail polish catches my eye. I painted her nails for her this morning. I also did her hair. I puff my chest out. I’m learning, and I did a damn good job.
Billy lifts her head to look at the two of us. Tears roll down her cheeks. She stands in the chair she’s been sitting in and wraps her arms around our necks.
“This is the best birthday present ever,” she chokes out.
“You’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to us,” I say.
I give her a gentle squeeze and bite back my laugh as Emma sobs ridiculously loud. Yeah, those hormones are getting to her. Mas has a mix of emotions on his face. I look away from him so my laughter doesn’t slip free.
I take in everyone, and I’m breathless. This is our huge corky family. I have a little girl and a husband I love to life and beyond.
This… is my normal. I’m living again.
Beau
“This was the best day ever,” I hear Billy say in the living room as she sits with Angel.
I’m trying to tend to a few contracts I need to get out first thing in the morning, along with documents I want to get in order now that Billy’s adoption is final. I learned from my father that you take care of business and make sure those you love are always taken care of. Even after you’re gone.
With the planning of the birthday party, I got a little behind on a few things. I’m trying to finish up to join them, but I pause at the change in conversation. I’m not expecting the words that come out of Billy’s mouth.
“The fight is coming. Do you think he’ll show up?” she says to Angel.
“I don’t know, kid. He’s been looking good lately,” he says.
“But not as good as you guys want him too,” she replies. “He’s holding back on the right-handed punches. Where all his power is.”
“You’re a smart kid, you know that?” Angel says. “Yeah, he’s still holding back.”
“Is that going to be a bad thing? Do you and abuelo still think you should call the fight?”
I blow out a breath and place my pen down. Paperwork forgotten, I go to sit with them. Angel reaches to run a hand through my hair.
“They won’t have to call the fight off. I’m going to be fine,” I say.
“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want,” Billy says.
I laugh. “No one is forcing me to fight. It’s something I need to do for me. It’ll be fine.”
She eyes me warily, her little face twisting as she thinks. Moving to wrap her arms around my neck, she holds me tight.
“Estás listo
,” she whispers.
Chapter 43
Heavy Minds
Beau
“You having a bad night?” I say into my pillow as Angel goes to climb out of the bed.
“Yeah, sorry,” he replies, leaning to kiss my shoulder before he gets up.
I turn onto my back. His naked body comes into view. I smile when my gaze falls on the tattoo of my name at the base of his spine. He bends to step into a pair of shorts, and I groan.
“Dude, carry your horny ass back to sleep.” He laughs.
I grunt and squeeze my cock. It’s not like we didn’t fall asleep after making love already. I’ve just had more adrenaline pumping through me the last few days as we draw near the fight. It feels like my entire fate will be determined in two weeks.
Although, as I watch my husband stretch his arms over his head, I can’t just blame wanting him on my building anxiety about this fight. How can I not appreciate this sexy-ass man? Every inch of him is perfect in my eyes.
He walks out onto the balcony and drops down into push-ups. I sigh. It’s one of those nights. His dreams are riding him. He doesn’t have the nightmares often, but when he does, they take a toll.
It’s interesting. We’ve come a long way, but that doesn’t mean that all of our problems have just magically gone away. There are nights I still wake in a cold sweat. Before Angel can comfort me, Billy’s cries pierce the air. We haven’t had a mess like that one night. The earbuds Eric gave Angel help.
Still, even that was our mess, and I wouldn’t trade either of them for the world. We’re learning to cope as a family. Billy is happy, and that’s our main concern. I smile as I stare at the ceiling, trying to go back to sleep. Only it doesn’t come as easily tonight.
I stand and pull on my own shorts. I walk toward the balcony and lean in the doorjamb. Angel is now leaning on his forearms against the railing, his hair blowing loosely in the wind. I take a few moments to relish watching him.
