Mom opened her mouth, probably to come to my defense. Although, who knew? She’d been abnormally silent this evening. Christina saved me from finding out. “Oh come on, Caitlin. The Lair can survive without you for a few hours. So what if a tranny can’t find the right shade of lipstick to match her hooker boots?”
Caitlin’s face flushed nearly as pink as her hair, her arm jutting out, finger pointed in our oldest sister’s direction. “Number one, that term is offensive. It’s transgendered, which I’ve told you countless times. Number two, I had actual plans, not work. And finally, you should be irritated as well. You’ve had to take up the slack at Panaderia, and Ricky has to be late to the restaurant so he can stay with Peter and Saul while you help Mom and Cyn.”
Glancing over at Cynthia revealed her sinking farther into her typical cushions on the far side of the sofa, her long mahogany hair falling over her face and hiding her further.
Christina gave an uncharacteristic eye roll. “Your brother-in-law and nephews are managing quite well without yourconcern, thank you very much. You needn’t drag them into it just because you want more stones to throw. Finn has gone through a lot lately. We all pick up the slack from each other from time to time. I know he was certainly there for me when I couldn’t make myself get out of bed for nearly a month.”
“As was I! And a late-term miscarriage might be a touch more significant than a two-minute hookup coming to an end.”
“Enough! We’ve had enough mudslinging in this family lately. I can’t take anymore.” Mom’s voice was stern, even through the tremble. She looked thoroughly exhausted. Her shoulders slumped, her declaration zapping what energy she’d had. She made a “keep it moving” gesture to Dad. “Wendell, we can’t keep arguing.”
“I know, dear.” He gave his four children individual stern looks, his gaze lingering on Cynthia as she brought her knees up to cover her chest.
I hadn’t seen Christina and Caitlin fight since they were teenagers and I was a kid. Back then, they’d been able to make the house feel like World War III, screams and curse spells making everyone run for cover. The only two that argued anymore were Caitlin and I. I wondered what had happened recently that I’d been too oblivious to notice.
Dad’s sad eyes left Cynthia and returned to give me a hard yet loving look. “Finn, I am so sorry for your heartbreak. I wish I could take it away. That I could bring Brett back to you. It seems a parent’s job is to fight for their child’s happiness while having to admit to their own inadequate abilities.” Seemingly of its own accord, his right hand slid over to rest on Mom’s knee, giving a commiserating squeeze.
For a moment, I saw our family from a bird’s eye view. All of us crowded into the sunken living room, the dark wood paneling closing us in on two sides. A family typically so strong, now on the edge of sanity. Parents giving everything they could to help hold their family together. The oldest sisters glaring at each other from across the room. The youngest sister nearly a ghost. The baby of the family a red-eyed mess, letting everyone down because he misses his boyfriend.
Pathetic.
Just the word I would have used. First you chase off that demon of yours, and now you alienate every member of your family from each other.
Enough was enough. “I’ll be at Panaderia in the morning, Mom. I promise. Or any of the stores, wherever you need me most.” It was a genuine offer, albeit a safe one. Caitlin didn’t want me helping out at her drag/goth store any more than I wanted to help her. Dad was fine at Mascarada; he could run the disguise shop in his sleep. With Christina back to take care of the boys, Ricky would be free to run the restaurant. Taberna de las Brujas pretty much ran itself. Although now, with Rodrigo dead, that probably wasn’t as true as before Brett had shown up.
You’ve gone down this road too far to back up now. No way you can slip back into the model son and brother you fancied yourself before. Just tell them. Tell them about the Square, about the Spor. About all the sex you’ve been having. Maybe you can make a list of all the guys’ names. If you can remember. Hell, you wouldn’t even be able to remember how many.
It took all my strength to not scream out loud at the fucker. I tried to keep my face impassive. The last thing my family needed was to know their youngest was hearing voices.
Mom gave me a tired but genuinely warm smile. “No, come help Cynthia and me. We would love to be with you. Plus, there is healing in baking. You may start to feel like yourself again.”
I’d never been this out of touch with my family. Never. Even at the height of the worst of Cate’s and my rows, I’d never felt this estranged. Never been out of the loop. Never felt like I was on the outside looking in. Not that I could blame any of them, not even Caitlin. They had all reached out to me over and over again. I had only myself to blame. I’d shut them all out. Left them nearly as suddenly and drastically as Brett had left me. I couldn’t even blame Brett, as much as I’d like to. He’d only broken up with a boyfriend; he hadn’t left his family. Beverly’s face floated behind my eyes. I pushed her away. “I’ll be there.”
“If you’re not, I’m coming by your house again and dragging you out of bed.”
I glared at Caitlin, wanting to ask how that had worked for her the first time. I kept my mouth shut.
She held up her hands in surrender before Dad could get any words out.
With another eye roll, Christina stood and walked over to me, her hair brushing my cheek as she bent to give me a kiss. “I will see you soon,hermanito. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
“Why don’t you stay awhile, dear?” Mom looked up hopefully. “Call Ricky and have him bring over the boys. I bet my grandsons have grown into men by now.”
“You saw them yesterday, Mom.” Christina stooped to give her a kiss as well. “I’m sorry. I’m so tired. I just want to go home and crawl into bed.”
“Well then, take somemantecadosfor them. Your mom and Cynthia brought them from Panaderia this afternoon.” Dad pushed on his knees to lift himself up and headed to the kitchen.
Christina shook her head. “Goodness, no, Dad! I’m going to have the fattest boys in the city. No more sweets!”
Mom gave an adoring, proud smile. “Hardly. They are just like you were as a child. Stick thin and as quick as fleas.” It was true, both Peter and Saul were thin and small for their age. However, Saul wasn’t quite as athletic as his older brother. Not that he ever displayed any interest in finding out. I was pretty sure he had a little bit of his uncle in him. As sure as I could be of a five-year-old, at any rate.
Christina hadn’t even made it to the door before Dad rushed out of the kitchen, a bulging plastic bag in his outstretched hands. “Don’t even try to run off without humoring your father.”
Taking the cookies, Christina let herself be wrapped in Dad’s strong arms. I wished I hadn’t been so distant. I could really use his arms right now. Although that would probably bring on a crying fit that would make it impossible for me to show up at work in the morning.
The room fell into an awkward silence after Christina left. At least Cynthia had tucked her hair behind her ears at some point. She always reminded me of a hedgehog, poking out from inside its little needles to see if it was safe.
