Melanie always knew. I don’t know how she knew, but even eight hundred miles away, she knew and that's why I didn’t answer her phone calls. She knew something was up from just my voice.
“I met someones,” I said softly.
“Someones?” she asked, not really surprised. “Let me guess, you’re running away.”
I scowled, knowing another verbal lashing was coming my way. The women in my life were not holding back.
“Tony, you're almost forty, don’t you think you're a little too old to be running away?” She didn’t care about my feelings. Don't you love your family? “You can't run away from Jorge’s memory no matter how hard you try. Haven’t you been running long enough?”
The mention of my ex made my stomach sour.
“He doesn’t deserve any moment of your time thinking of him, and you're still letting him ruin your life,” she said, even though I huffed. “Hasn’t he taken enough from you? Porque este pinche pedaso de mierda?—”
“Melanie,” I interrupted her before she went on an even longer rant cussing him out in Spanish.
“Sorry, you know how I feel about him, but seriously, Tony, how long are you going to run for?”
“I don’t know, but I’m terrified.” I exhaled, running my hands over my face. “My life imploded after Jorge. It wasn’t just my heart, every part of my life went to shit and I… fuck, I can’t do that again.”
“Well, at least you don’t have the future of our dairy farm on the line and an arranged marriage that will bring two families together to unite the largest producers of asadero cheese,” Melanie chuckled.
I did not chuckle because she didn’t have to remind me. I never forgot that at twenty-seven, my family told me I had to marry the other dairy farmer's daughter because they wanted to combine the farms. She was five years younger than me, I had never met her before and because I wasn’t married, it was my duty to the family to do this.
What my family didn’t know was that I was in love with a man named Jorge, who worked with us. I grew up in a conservative family. I kept my sexuality to myself because I was terrified of what they would say or do. What started as something to pass time and have fun, turned into love. Jorge and I talked about telling our families and possibly starting a family of our own. He talked about moving in with me when the house I was building was finished. We talked about him going back to school to get his degree in business to help the farm, that way he could help me run it when my parents retired.
We had our whole life planned out when they dropped the bomb and I refused to marry her. My father and I argued for weeks until he told me I would have to marry her or lose my place at the farm. It was a bluff he didn’t expect me to call, but when I called it, I didn't expect to be on the losing end too. Jorge didn’t leave with me like I thought he would. He left the farm without a goodbye, and I never heard from him again.
“Too soon?” Melanie said, pulling me back from memory lane.
“Their names are Jude and Sam,” I said, moving the conversation from the past. “Jude’s a firefighter, and Sam is a professional hockey player.”
“Damn. Forest had to go and one up yourself,” she said giddily. “A firefighter and a hockey player!? Of course you’d hit the jackpot. Can I see a picture? I’m sure they are gorgeous. Where did you end up?”
I put her on speaker while I looked through my phone for a picture. “I ended up in Sterling Ridge, Colorado.”
“Colorado? I thought you were heading up to Montana? I guess that doesn’t matter. Come on, cough up that photo,” she said, as I sent the most recent photo I had of us at the Christmas Village.
One particular picture caught my eye. I was looking at the camera, one arm around Sam and Jude as they looked at me. It was slightly out of focus, I could still see their expressions and they were solely focused on me.
“Ay, dios mio, Tony,” Melanie gasped, like the dramatic diva she was. “And you left them?”
“They scared me. I?—”
“You what, had two men who loved you?” she huffed.
“What if it's like before, what if they are just like?—”
“Jorge? That hockey player makes more money than you and I can imagine having at one time. You barely have two quarters to rub together,” she said. “Jorge wanted you for the life you could give him. These men have lives they have built already. They don’t need you to provide for them, they want you in their lives because they love you.”
“Fuck,” I groaned. “I know that; I know they are nothing like Jorge, but…I just…can’t go through that again.”
“You’re already going through that again,” she said. “You don’t think you're hurting now?”
I stayed silent, stunned into submission.
“No one is hurting you, except you,” she said, making me feel even worse. “I love you, Tony, but sometimes I want to smack some sense into you. You've been running away long enough. I think it's time for you to stop and live your life. Enjoy those men, pop out a few babies and come home.”
I laughed.
