One, I wondered what my dad would do in this situation. He would say, do what you have to do to keep your position. I know he would.
Two, I was starting to think I wouldn’thave tolie too much when it came to Dustin and me.
Our marriage obviously wasn’t traditional. But there was also a palpable attraction—no, somethingbeyondattraction between us. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what that was.
Maybe it was a pleasant thought of what we could be. Maybe it was his arm wrapped firmly around me.
But I slept like a baby.
The next morning, we sipped coffee and I showed Dustin pictures of my family back in Spain, to get him prepped for the morning’s Skype call.
The picture was of my family from when I was six. Coincidentally, it was the day before my dad had gotten the diagnosis that changed everything. We had just driven to the Pyrenees to go mountain climbing, and my parents had regretted bringing us, in a way. You could see it in their eyes, the way they smiled in a tired manner, while I smiled exaggeratedly and my little sister cried while being held by my aunt. My father looked ominously exhausted from the hike. The next day, we would find out why.
Dustin held the frame in his hand—I always carried a framed copy with me wherever I went.
“So that’s your closest family?” he asked. “Your mom, your aunt, and your sister?”
“And my Grandmother on my mother’s side,” I said.
“So . . . no men?”
I shrugged. “Not really. I visited my dad’s family in Ireland years ago, but we’re not as close.”
“I’m sorry you had to lose your dad so early. I mean, I know people probably tell you that all the time, but that really sucks.”
I felt a ball of emotion welling in my chest, but I pushed it down. “Thanks,” I said softly. “I actually don’t talk too much about this stuff to most people.”
He wrapped me up in a big hug and held me for a few moments. A tear rolled down my cheek while I rested my chin on his shoulder.
“You’re not as big of a dick as you pretend to be,” I eeked out, wiping the tear so he couldn’t see it. I took a deep breath. “You know what’s funny? I went to a therapist once, who told me the reason I’ve never had a real long-term relationship was because since my dad died when I was eight, I unconsciously decided to back away from relationships just when they get close.”
“That’s perfect. Because I do the exact same thing. It’s like we’re a match made in heaven.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s how this works.”
“It’s nine thirty-one,” he said, looking at his watch. “Aren’t we supposed to be Skyping with your family right now?”
“Oh, crap,” I said, then pulled up Skype on my computer. Spain was seven hours ahead right now, so it was around the siesta time there. My heart beat a little faster than normal as we listened to the ringer, waiting for them to pick up, watching ourselves in the screen.
“We look so cute,” Dustin remarked. “You in your glasses. Looking all smart.”
“With my big brain,” I grinned.
“I mean, how can you miss it?”
“You, with your big muscles.”
“And that’s not all.”
Before we could keep going back and forth, my sister Norma answered the phone.
“Hola! Hello!” she said in Spanish and English.
“Hola! Me llamo Dustin,” Dustin said. “Un placer.”
My grandmother, mother, and sister all blushed feverishly. They all knew English, thanks to having been around my Irish dad, so we had decided to conduct the call mostly in English, for Dustin’s benefit.
“Wow! His Spanish is so good!”
