Deanna Roy - Forever Loved

“I feel like it.”

“Precisely.” He jerked on the glass door.

Rosa and Manuelito sat in a booth along one side. She had bought him a slice of pizza but not one for herself, and suddenly I worried she was here without much money or ability to take care of the boy. God, how was I going to manage this?

Mario headed straight for her and slid into the seat opposite them. Rosa seemed startled by this and looked to me with a question.

He said something rapid in Spanish to her, part an introduction but who knew what else. I disliked this a lot. I felt completely out of control now and wished I hadn’t brought him.

Rosa’s face bloomed red and she argued with him for a moment, pulling a card from her purse. Mario looked at it and gave it back, then turned to me. “So, she’s here on a borrowed border pass. We have her over a barrel if you need that leverage.”

“Jesus, Mario. I don’t want that.”

He shrugged. “Just saying it’s an option if it turns out the kid isn’t yours.”

Rosa clutched at Manuelito, who chewed the pizza slowly. “Who is this friend?” she asked me. “Some sort of policia?”

“No. He works with me.”

“Why you bring him?”

“He’s just a friend helping me out.” I glanced over at him. “And being a jerk about it.”

Mario laughed. “I’m not nearly the jerk you are. And Rosa here can handle it. She spits fire.”

“You should see her with a Glock.”

Mario whipped his head around to stare at Rosa again. “Damn.”

Rosa released Manuelito, seeming to understand the situation now. “So you are not policia?”

“Hell no,” Mario said. “I just wanted to know how you managed to get over here to disrupt my friend Gavin’s life.”

“You are a tricky man,” she said.

He chuckled. “I am indeed.”

I wanted to know what was next. “So I guess we need to find a place that can test him.”

Rosa nodded. “Yes, that is good. How long it take?”

I shrugged. “I can ask.”

“I don’t know either,” Mario said. “You may have to go back across and return. Not sure they can do it in 72 hours.”

“I take the risk,” Rosa said. “I stay. When they see my boy is his, we can stay.”

“Still have to do paperwork,” Mario said. “Unless lover boy here marries you.” He elbowed me.

“He has girlfriend now,” Rosa said. “Too busy for marriage.”

Mario’s expression changed. “So why are you here then, if not to try and snag him?”

Rosa looked thoughtful. “Snag. What is snag?”

Mario said something in Spanish that sounded like “tramp.”

Rosa pushed back on her hair, smoothing the wild tresses away from her face. “Dios mio.”

“You come here. You force the boy on him.” Mario waved a waitress away. “What else should we think?”

Rosa pushed Manuelito out the end of the booth. “You are a bad man,” she said to Mario. Then to me, “You have my number. Tell me where to go to test. I will be there.”

She shoved the boy’s arms into his jacket and snatched up hers. I sat there, stewing, not sure what I was more angry about, Mario’s heavy-handed behavior or the situation itself. When the door jangled, I jumped up and ran after them.

“Wait, Rosa,” I said, catching up with them on the sidewalk. “Halto or alta or whatever.”

She stopped and turned around with eyes that were wet and glistening. “You never learn Spanish well at all, Gavinito.”

“I’m sorry Mario was so harsh. He’s looking out for me.”

Manuelito tugged on her hand. “¡Paleta! ¡Paleta!”

Rosa reached into her bag and produced another round lollipop. Manuelito grabbed it and struggled with the wrapper.

“I do not like him. He act like he would send me back.”

“It’s not an easy situation to explain to people.”

She took the lollipop back from Manuelito and tugged off the plastic. He stuck it in his mouth and laid his head against her leg.

“You must see him a lot for him to be so close to you.”

“He is a very happy boy. He trusts people.”

“Are you okay for money? Where are you staying?”

“I have a cousin.”

“Is it near here?”

“I can take bus.”

All I had was my bike, and I couldn’t exactly put both of them on it. “Okay. I will call you later, when I find a place to do the test.”

“Okay, Gavin.” She hesitated. “I do not wish to…snag you.”

“I know.”

“I just want the boy to have a father. His father. Letty’s man was no good.”

“I get it.”

“I know you have girlfriend.” She stared at the ground, and I remembered her telling me she was not a prostitute for anyone but me.

“What about you? No boyfriend? No one?”

“I have not. This—” she patted Manuelito’s head. “This is hard enough.”

“What about that cousin guy? Has he bothered you?”

She shook her head. “I leave my place. My family is to be outraged when they hear Letty say what happened.”

“Rosa, I wish I could do more.”

She caught her billowing hair with her hand. “Do the test, Gavin. Then we know what to do next.”

I nodded. She turned and headed up the street toward a bus stop. I’d done all I could do for now.

When she was well away, Mario came up from behind. “So what’s the plan?”

“Damn it, Mario, you scared the crap out of her.”

“Nah. She was up for it. But she’s going to be a problem if that kid is yours.”

We headed toward the garage. “Well, yeah. I have no idea what we’ll do.”

“I mean, that girl is totally over her head in love with you.”

I halted, turning back around to stare at the distant shapes of Rosa and the boy standing near the bench. “She was paid to like me.”

“I call bullshit on that. It’s all over her face.” He kicked at an acorn on the sidewalk. “So what’s the likelihood this kid is yours? Did you do this chick balls out?”

I sighed. “Apparently. The first time. It just happened.”

“You are one crazy idiot,” Mario said. We crossed the street to the garage. “You tell your girl yet?”

“I’m heading there now.”

“Better do it before this blows up in your face.”

“I’m on it.”

He stopped several yards from the open bays and clapped me on the shoulder. “Good luck, man. You’re going to need it.”

Rather than cutting through the garage, I walked along the front to where my bike was parked on the other side. Time to head to the hospital, wait out the parents, and try to get Corabelle alone. I hoped she was doing better, or I didn’t know if I could shock her with this news. But it was definitely time to confess.

Gavin looked like hell when he poked his head in the door. He faked a smile, but I could still spot his moods, the real ones, not the facade he put on.

Mom had given up on knitting the galaxy-sized blanket and taken up a book instead. Dad was watching the TV on silent, an old Western he probably knew by heart anyway. They looked up when Gavin came in, and Dad may have tensed up, but they greeted him congenially.

“How did today go?” Gavin dragged his chair closer to the bed.

“Good. I walked to the bathroom and back, so I got free of the pee pipe again.”

“That’s good.”

“I won’t go wandering this time.”

“Also good.”

I bit my lip, wondering what else I could say with my parents so close. I squinted at my father’s watch. Just after five. They could be here for hours still.

“Can you eat regular things yet? Could I get you something?” Gavin enclosed one of my hands in his.

“I got a lovely colorless broth for lunch. So yeah, bring me an entire pepperoni pizza, extra cheese, a burger from Dan’s, and a hot-fudge sundae.”

His grin this time seemed genuine. “I’d totally do that, for you.”

“And hold my hair back when I puked it all back up?” I touched my head where the tangled knot still sat, squat and frizzy. It hadn’t been washed in days. I was beyond feeling humiliated at this point.

“Just like when you were pregnant.”

My dad’s eyes flitted over to us at that, and I sensed my mom’s attention on her book had been diverted. I wondered what they would think if they knew about Gavin’s vasectomy. Maybe we could avoid ever telling them. If it couldn’t be reversed, we could just let them assume the infertility was my problem.

I picked up my cell phone from the side table and tapped out, “How do we lose the ’rents?”

He looked panicked when his phone beeped, a reaction that seemed totally out of proportion to the situation. When he ignored it, I held mine up. He still didn’t get it, so I tapped out, in front of him, “HELLO!” and pressed “send” with exaggerated motion.

He nodded and took his phone out, smiling when he saw the message. “Fire alarm?” he typed.

“Too many casualties.”

He looked thoughtful, then frantically tapped in, “Dress in drag and do the hula?”

I laughed out loud, snaring my parents’ attention. We had seen The Lion King in kindergarten together, and I had been traumatized by Scar. But later we reenacted the “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” scene, starting a long tradition of reliving favorite movie moments. Even when we were teenagers, I would still randomly knock him over and pin him like the two cubs had.

This was a safe enough topic. “I would love to see that movie right now,” I said aloud.

“We could put it in your laptop,” Gavin said.

“The TVs have DVD players.” I pointed at the screen.

“What movie is that?” Mom asked.

Bingo.