“So. How is everything at home? Uncle Javier and Aunt Claudia okay?”
“Yes, although your uncle keeps bugging Ernesto to improve the diner, make it more modern. ‘Hip,’ I think I heard last time.” His eyes twinkled. “You know Ernesto wasn’t having it.”
“It would be better for business. Change with the times. One of the first lessons they teach you in business school.”
“Don’t they also tell you to think big? I still say you should expand, maybe a different type of store, like pizzas and pasta dishes.” His father examined the label of the beer bottle for a moment. “Something new and different.”
“You know what they also taught us? Don’t rush into expanding. Wait until you’re firmly established before even thinking of moving on. And in the restaurant industry, that’s at least five years. So we have a ways to go.” They’d had this discussion at least twice this year already.
His father gave him a thoughtful nod. “They did a good job with you at Wharton. I knew it was the right thing for you, even though you didn’t want to go at first. Sometimes you have to do what you don’t want, and it turns out to be the best thing for you.”
Taking a deep breath, Rico steadied his frantically beating heart and took that leap he’d been afraid to all his life. “That goes for you too, Dad. People don’t always measure up to what you think is the only or right way to live.”
“I know you’re upset with me over Gideon, but—”
“No. Not Gideon.” His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and that light-headedness had returned. “Me. I’m talking about me now.”
“What about you? You’re not sick, are you?”
“No, Dad. I’m fine. Unless you’re going to continue thinking that being gay is a sickness or something you can cure people of.” Their eyes locked, and Rico watched his father’s face whiten.
“What—” His father paused and licked his lips. “What are you trying to tell me?”
“I’m nottryingto tell you anything. I am telling you. I’m gay.”
“No.” His father shook his head, eyes darting from side to side, refusing to look at him. “No. You’re not. I knew hanging around with Gideon would change you. You were fine before you met him.”
“I am fine. I’m not sick. No one changed me.” He heard himself yelling but couldn’t stop the torrent of words pouring out. “I’ve always been this way; you never took the time to learn who I was. You never cared.” Angry at himself for losing control, he brushed aside the bitter tears. He gazed at his father, drinking him in, knowing this could be their last time together.
“I did care. I do.”
“Then look at me.” Rico stood and planted himself in front of his father. “See me for the first time. Does it matter who I choose to love? Does it make me less of a person, a human being?” He crouched down, forcing his father to view him at face level. “Love me for the man you and Mom raised. Love me for being a kind person, for helping others who need it more than I do. Love me for caring enough about the world to want to make it better so people don’t have to kill themselves for falling in love.” He reached out his hand. “Every part of me is a part of you, Dad.”
He waited, hand outstretched.
“Love me. For being me.”
Eyes wide and glittering, lips trembling, his father remained motionless, and Rico’s stomach churned, yet he felt better than he had in years. Whatever happened, from this point forward he was free. He dropped his hand.
“Dad?”
“All I wanted was for you to grow up a strong and healthy man. One who worked hard and made a success of himself.”
“At what price?” Rico returned to the sofa and sat. “And what about love? Nowhere did you mention happiness.”
Looking startled for a moment, his father’s jaw hardened. “With hard work comes respect, power, and a sense of accomplishment. I’m satisfied with my life.”
“I don’t want to be satisfied.” Sadly, it didn’t look as though his father understood him at all. “I want to be happy. I’ve met someone. Someone who makes me take a step back and enjoy life.”
“And while you take that step back, someone is pushing forward in your place.”
Frustrated, Rico pounded his hand on the arm of the sofa. “So what? What am I striving for? Money? Power? None of that matters to me if I’m alone. I’m tired of being alone. I want someone to love and who’ll love me back, and I found that.”
His father snorted, the derision obvious. “Love, love, love. That’s all I hear from young people. Let me tell you about love. I had your mother. I loved her with all my heart and soul, and when she left us, I thought I would die.”
Hearing his father’s admission of pain brought tears to Rico’s eyes. His mother’s death had ripped their family apart in so many ways. “You never said anything.…”
“Of course not; you were a child. I had to be strong. We’re a strong people.”
