I eyed my closet and changed my solo reservations to two, which felt pointless as I wasn’t sure if Tyler would even show up. What the hell was I doing? Mom was right—we never could occupy the same space without arguing. There were times I’d actually started out trying to be nice, and then I’d spot his disdain for my presence and couldn’t help egging it on.
Tyler and I were in our mid-thirties, yet when we saw each other, we turned into petulant kids. I did want to make his cousin’s wedding better for him, but the more I’d thought about it—or obsessed since we left the bakery—the more I thought I should just text Tyler and call the whole damn thing off.
I plopped onto my bed, falling back and covering my face with my hands. I was Olivia fucking Sanchez. I never backed down from anything. When I wanted to start my own freelance business because my company wouldn’t promote me like I deserved, I found a way. I was never intimidated by new clients or being the only woman in a room full of men at a business meeting at my old job.
Maybe that was because, during all of that, I knew I wouldn’t lose. Or if I did, I didn’t care. There were always more clients, more opportunities. Why waste my time if one didn’t work out?
This was a no-win situation, and the worst part about it: now it did bother me to lose. But what other outcome could there be?
“Hey,” Mom called before cracking open my door. “You left me to eat all these cookies by myself,” she teased, peering at me from the doorway. “Come sit with me.” She motioned toward my small dining room table. The space could fit a much bigger one, but it just fit in my old apartment. I’d considered getting a bigger table, but I never had more than three people over at a time.
I slid into a chair across from her as she pulled the string off the box, the sight of Tyler’s bakery logo souring my already terrible mood. Mom gingerly shook the box until she plucked out the chocolate chip cookie I knew she was searching for.
“Did I ever tell you how your father and I got together?”
I rolled my eyes, grabbing a half-chocolate-covered cookie despite myself.
“Of course. He was Uncle Frankie’s friend. Classicolder brother’s best friendsyndrome.”
“No,” Mom scoffed. “That’s how Iknewyour father, not how we got together. That happened much, much later.”
I sat back, squinting at her. “Okay, then I guess you didn’t. How did you get together?”
She grabbed a napkin and placed the cookie down after swallowing a bite.
“Javier and Frankie were inseparable from the time they met. He was over at the house all the damn time.” I laughed at her heavy, annoyed sigh. “All my friends were like, ‘Javier Sanchez was at your house—you’resooolucky.’” She pressed a hand to her chest. “‘He’s gorgeous.’” She rolled her eyes, breaking off another tiny piece of cookie. “But they didn’t know that he was a gorgeousasshole.”
“What?” I shrieked. My father was the best person I ever knew. When I got into trouble, which when I was little was often, he was stern yet loving. I couldn’t see my dad ever being an asshole even when he was young. “I can’t believe that.”
“Believe it. I dreaded when I’d hear him in the backyard with your uncle when I came home. He always had something to say about my friends, the guy I liked, the clubs I was in at school,everything. It was like his day wasn’t complete unless I stalked away from him with steam billowing out of my ears like those cartoons.”
“Uncle Frankie let him do that?”
I cracked up at her pursed lips.
“Your uncle was a different kind of asshole, and that’s a different conversation.”
“Okay,” I said, another laugh escaping and surprising me. Talking about Dad was still painful, but this was one of the only recent times I was able to enjoy a memory of him. “So how did he go fromassholetothe love of your life?”
Her smile faded a minute before she sucked in a breath and continued.
“Frankie worked late and your grandparents were out, so when Javier showed up at our house, I had to let him in as I was getting ready for a date. But this time, he didn’t try to agitate me, just grumbled. I asked him what his damn problem was, and he said he hated seeing me go out with guys who didn’t deserve me. I asked him who I should date instead, and he said him.” Mom’s eyes were glossy as she chuckled to herself. “His hair was longer then, so he kept running his hands through his curls, all flustered and strung out.”
“Is that when you fell in love?” I asked, my own eyes getting wet.
“No, I told him he had some nerve being a jerk all this time and now all of a sudden saying he wanted to be with me. I stormed out the door, met my date, and was miserable as hell the whole time. I came home early, and your father was still waiting for me on our stoop with an entirely different attitude. He confessed that he liked me too much and thought if I hated him, then he wouldn’t be so tempted to love me.”
I swallowed the lump growing in the back of my throat. The memory of how much my father adored her and what he said all those years ago pierced my gut with unexpected resonance.
“Then he started to show me who he really was. I wasn’t the easiest sell. After years of him being a jerk to me, one night of sweet words didn’t cut it, but when I got to know him, therealhim, he was the best.” Her voice cracked as she took the last bite of the cookie, not bothering to wipe the tear streaking down her cheek.
“Some people embrace the love they feel for someone else, some get spooked and fight it. And then just keep fighting until they make everyone involved miserable.”
“Mom,” I breathed out, running a hand down my face, “that’s a sweet story, but I don’t know why you’re telling me this.”
“I think you’re smart enough to know why.” She leaned in and squeezed my arm. “I’ve watched the two of you fight since you learned how to talk, and as much as we told you to just leave Tyler alone, you never could. Poor guy.”
I had to laugh at that. I never gave Tyler a moment’s peace when we were kids and did nothing but go out of my way to annoy him as we got older.
