“Thank you. And so you know, you don’t have to call me Miss. It can just be Alice.”
“Okay,” she says as a tiny smile pulls at the corners of her lips. “And one day I’ll get to call you Tia, too, since you also found your pickle.” I don’t understand what she means, but Charlie seems to, as she clears her throat next to me. Cece’s brows furrow as she continues, “I’m not sure if Tio Arthur knows he’s your pickle yet. He seems sad today He’s talking to Vô in the living room now, and they both sounded not happy. That’s why I came here.” Her words have me instantly pushing to my feet, and I look at Charlie. I need to move quickly, but I hate to leave Cece like this.
“Go. I’ve got this.” Charlie sends me off with a nod, and I take off running toward the house. When I reach the kitchen, everyone is there, quietly setting the table or preparing something, while elevated voices come from the next room. I can’t make out the words, but the tone isn’t friendly.
“You shouldn’t be here, Arthur.” This time, Ivan’s voice is crystal clear, even through the wall.
I look around, wondering if anyone is going to do something, and when they don’t, I don’t ask for permission. I leave the kitchen and walk into the living room.
I hardly recognize the man I’ve come to know so intimately. He’s practically curling in on himself, making himself smaller and smaller with every word his father says.
I can’t stand here and do nothing.
I promised to support him, so that’s exactly what I’m about to do.
THIRTY-ONE
you do not deserve that woman
Arthur
“Arthur?” Alice’s sweet voice breaks the awful silence that took up all the air in the room after my dad told me I shouldn’t be here. Maybe he’s right. I know everyone out there can hear us. I’m sure it’s why Alice is here now.
Her small hand slides into mine, holding on tightly. Keeping my eyes on the floor, I can hardly bring myself to squeeze her hand back. “Maybe we should go,” I whisper so low, I’m not sure she hears me.
“No,” she responds clearly. “No, I don’t think we should go. I definitely don’t thinkyoushould go, Arthur.” She adjusts her stance, like she’s readying herself for battle. “Mr. Machado, it’s not my intention to disrespect you in your home, but I need to say this. You’re wrong. Arthurshouldbe here. Cecilia asked for him to come, and despite the hours he’s spent second-guessing his decision, he’s here for her. Because she’s family. I’m no expert on what a loving family looks like, believe me, but I can give you plenty of examples of a crummy one, if you need them.”
She pauses, taking a breath before lifting her head higher, meeting my dad’s eyes. “I don’t know you, but I’ve been lucky enough to get to know your son. He’s a good man. You must know that because you raised him. He’s loyal and kind, he’s hardworking and honest. I’ve lived and worked with him for weeks, and I have yet to find any fault with him. I don’t know what happened between the you of two, but is it worth all of this? Is forgiveness harder than not having Arthur present at family events, Mr. Machado?”
She twists to face me, and I wait with rapt attention for whatever is coming next. “And you. Is the pain you’re putting yourself through worth it? Are you going to carry all of this guilt around with you forever and let people believe what they want. Or are you going to let them see who you really are? Because I see you, Arthur Ivan Machado. I see you, and I know you’re made of pure, solid gold. Regardless of your past.”
She takes my face in her hands, those amber eyes I fell hard for on day one, grounding me in a way I’ve never known before her, and that I don’t think I’ll find after her, either. “Show him who you are. Talk from a place of love, not of guilt or shame or stubbornness. Don’t let this drive a permanent wedge between you, Arthur. You have a family, and it’s a really good one. Don’t let that go to waste, because people like me wish we had even an ounce of what you’ve got here. Okay?” Her words are whispered softly, but they hit me like a freight train. She seals her words with a kiss, then walks out of the room.
I chance a look at my dad, and he’s as awestruck as I am, but he wipes the look away quickly, replacing it with the disappointment I’m so used to seeing.
“I’m sorry,” I say lamely, and he scoffs, the sound putting another crack in my heart.
Shaking his head, my father pinches the bridge of hisnose. “I wish I knew where I went wrong with you. I thought we’d done all the right things, showed you we loved you, but then you—” He stops short, as if finishing the sentence causes him physical pain.
“Then what, Pai? I showed you I’m human? I get it, you never planned on having a son addicted to narcotics. I never planned that for my life either, but that was the problem. I planned everything, until it was all I did, and when I needed an escape from it all, my brain wouldn’t let me rest.” As my voice gets louder, the room starts to feel smaller. “I know I messed up. I’ve beaten myself up about it for years, but how am I supposed to forgive myself if my own dad won’t forgive me?”
“I did that, Arthur!” he yells with more hurt than I’ve ever seen in his eyes. “I forgave you, and I helped you, and I loved you through all of it.” He looks up at the ceiling, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. When he levels me with his stare again, he doesn’t say anything for several never-ending seconds.
Finally, he speaks, his voice low. “You do not deserve that woman.”
I nod in agreement. “You don’t need to tell me that. I already know I’m not good enough for her.”
“Let me finish,” he says, walking closer to me like he’s approaching a wounded animal, so cautiously. “You don’t deserve her like I never deserved your mother. Decades later, I still don’t think I’m good enough for her. But you know what makes me feel like I got it right? Like I could do anything, be anything, and even maybe be worthy of her?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Her love. The fact that she thinks I hung the moon, even when we both know I’ve never even come close. That she chose me as her partner.Me. And she chooses me every day. The only other thing that makes me feel like I’m doing things right in my life iswatching my children thrive and be happy. I failed you, Arthur. I know I did.” He hangs his head low, wiping a tear from his cheek.
“You failed me? Pai. Come on. I’m the one who failed. I fucked up. I nearly caused you to lose everything.” My voice cracks on that last word, and he looks up at me again.
“No, filho. Losing everything would have been losingyou. Money is just that. It’s just money. We can make more, we can figure it out. But you? If we’d lost you, I—” He breaks off on a sob, and fuck, nothing tears me apart more than seeing my dad cry. “I can’t stand the thought of that happening, so when I saw you at that bar, I decided I couldn’t watch you do that to yourself again. I wouldn’t survive it a second time.”
“What bar? What do you mean?”
He’s never told me any of this. I thought he was done with me after everything I had put them through with the debt I accrued, thanks to my addiction, and then the cost of rehab. He told me he never wanted me to pay them back, and he never wanted to speak to me again. And that was that.
“Someone told me they saw you at a bar in Ojai some time after you got back from rehab. Bob’s, or something? I don’t know. And I couldn’t believe it, but then I went there and I saw it for myself. It was you sitting at that bar, switching one addiction for another.” His face is full of pain. Pain I caused, but pain that’s unnecessary if he thinks I switched from drugs to alcohol.
