“I’m fine. Give me a call when you get a chance.”
“Bye.”
Was Tiburón really going to move up there to be with Blanca? Tiburón knew she couldn’t move down to San Diego unless they were married. Enrique just wanted to get off this crazy train and go back to hanging out with people who made sense and who weren’t affected by someone else’s rules when it came to their relationships.
Had he been so desperate to find a deep meaning and someone special that he had projected those feelings onto Carolina?
He really didn’t want to be alone tonight.
He called a few friends, but they didn’t answer. He went inside and looked around his empty house on the beach. He called his mother, who also didn’t even answer.
There was only one place left to go.
He got into his car and drove to his father’s house.
Enrique and his brothers lived less than a mile away from their father, but Enrique hadn’t seen him in half a year. Papá had reached out a few times, but Enrique didn’t know what to say. His father had behaved horribly when he was attempting to take over the block in Barrio Logan, especially when it came to light that he’d stolen Julieta’smom’s recipe years ago, basing his entire fast-food empire on the woman’s fish tacos. His actions were reprehensible, to say the least.
He pulled up in the long circular driveway and stared at the perfectly manicured lawn. He was so used to seeing maintenance workers toiling around the home that the house seemed empty without them. For years, he had aspired for his father’s approval. But he no longer wanted that. He just wanted advice. But was this even a good idea? Who was his father to give out relationship guidance?
Well, he was already here. He rang the doorbell.
Papá answered the door. His mouth had more lines than it had the last time Enrique had seen him.
For a second, Papá studied Enrique. Confusion clouded his dad’s eyes as if perhaps he had seen a ghost. Then he rushed forward, embraced his son in a long hug. “Mijo! What are you doing here? I thought you went to Montecito.”
“We did. But I’m back.” He paused. It was easy for him to be open with his feelings to anyone but his father. It wasn’t just the childhood neglect. As an adult, Papá had always focused on Ramón’s role in the business and had brushed off both Enrique and Jaime. Enrique often felt that there was no need to try hard because no matter what he did, he was compared to Ramón and found lacking.
He had come here for counsel. But now, in the arms of the man who had not been there for him through his childhood, he changed his mind. He pushed through his old pain and tried to forgive him. “I’ve missed you, Papá.”
Arturo hugged him again—and then burst into tears. “I’m so sorry, Enrique. For what I did in Barrio. For how much I was absent when you were a child. For every soccer game I missed. Forgive me.”
Enrique pulled away. “Thanks, but it’s not that easy. And I’m not the only one you need to apologize to. The childhood trauma is badenough. But you caused irreparable damage to our company and wanted to destroy Barrio Logan. It’s not as easy as saying sorry.”
“I know nothing I can say will fix anything. I’m just glad you’re here. Come on in.”
Enrique walked into his home that no longer felt like a home. He sat on the leather sofa in the living room.
“A drink?” his father offered. “Another pillow? That couch is too uncomfortable. I said so in the shop, but the sales associate said it was the best one.”
“It’s fine. I’ll have a bourbon.”
His father poured him a glass and then handed it to him. He then poured himself one and sat in a reclining chair. “I have wanted to reach out to you all, but I know Ramón will never forgive me.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure if he will.”
Papá shook his head. “I know, I know. I’ve been racking my head on how to fix it.”
“Sometimes you can’t fix things. Ramón did a pretty good job of mitigating the damage. A formal apology is the first step. To Linda and to the residents of Barrio Logan.”
“I will never apologize to her,” his father sneered, anger threaded through his tone. His fist slammed into the coffee table.
“You can’t keep bottling up this anger. You need to talk to someone, a professional, and work through it.”
His father nodded. “You’re right. I know. I should go to therapy. I messed everything up with this deal. I was so stubborn about Barrio Logan.”
Enrique stood up and walked over to a huge Christmas tree that was in the center of the room. Enrique crouched down and looked at the presents. There were ones for each of his brothers. But most interesting was one for Julieta.
“Dad,whywere you so stubborn about Barrio? Ramón told you for months that what we were doing was wrong. Why didn’t you listen to him?”
