“Kelsey’s pretty upset,” I say.
“Yep.” Another monosyllabic response, nonchalant and matter-of-fact. Also without looking at me.
“Is Adrienne also upset?”
Victor gives a half-shrug and takes another swig of wine. “Dunno. I think she mostly feels like she has to support Kelsey.”
The sun dips below the tree line on the other side of the valley. The sky is a gorgeous watercolor of pinks, oranges, and purples. Every other day this week, Victor has led a sunset yoga session. I glance at him and see that he’s dressed for it—loose shorts and a tank top that reveals his muscular shoulders and quite a bit of his chest—but he’s made no move to stop drinking wine and get up to leave. “No yoga tonight?”
“Nope.” No further explanation, just another swig of wine. He’s drunk about a third of the glass now. His third? Fourth?
I try to settle into my own chair, sip my wine, and enjoy watching the sunset. Live in the moment, like Victor seems to. But the need to deal with this problem nags at me and prevents me from being able to relax.
“What are we going to do?” I’m not really sure what our options are. Or what I want them to be.
Victor blows out a big wine-scented breath. “I have no fucking idea, Jason.”
He doesn’t sound all that disturbed by the turn of events. Almost like it doesn’t matter to him what we do or don’t do. He just drinks more wine and continues staring at the valley below us.
“Victor,” I start.
“The fuck do you want from me, Jason?” There’s no venom in his voice, but I’m caught short anyway. He sounds more resigned than anything else.
“What do you mean?”
He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath in, then out, and opens his eyes again. He still doesn’t look at me. “Yesterday afternoon, you were the one who suggested we have this week together. Then you lost your shit when you only thought Kelsey might find out about anything happening between us. Then you asked me for one more night, still insisting that Kelsey not know about what happened between us before, and you wouldn’t commit to anything more than last night.
“So now that Kelsey knows we’ve fucked at least once, what’s the plan? You want to tell her it was a mistake? Keep her in the dark about what happened fifteen years ago and tell her you just tripped last night and fell on my dick? But it didn’t mean anything, you’re still wedded to the memory of her dead mother, and the two of us are back to being her dads who only interact with each other when it’s about her?”
“I…” I don’t know what to say. “That’s not…exactly my plan…”
“No? Well, be sure to let me know what your plan is when you come up with it.” Victor doesn’t storm off the balcony. He doesn’t move at all, actually, except to lift his glass to his lips and back down again. He’s radiating go the hell away, I’m sulking and I want to do it alone, though. He reminds me of Kelsey when she was a teenager.
“I don’t want that to be the plan, Victor.”
“Jason,” he sighs. He lifts his wineglass again, squints at it like he’s surprised to find it empty, then sits forward with a thump of the front chair legs to pour himself another. “Never mind.”
I can’t decide what the right thing to do here is. We’re sharing this casita and he knew I’d be back from today’s hike by sunset, so if he really wanted to be alone, he could have found another place in the resort to hang out until he gets over whatever mood he’s in.
On the other hand, he has just as much right to be in the comfort of our suite as I do. And he clearly didn’t want to run into anyone else in the wedding group, or he’d be at the bar or restaurant or pool or any number of other nooks and crannies set up for lounging and socializing at the resort.
But I’m not ready to have this conversation. About what we mean to each other, what we want from each other after this week. Starting a relationship with Victor that’s more than just a string of nights while we’re in a foreign country is…well, it’s not something I’ve let myself contemplate yet.
Kelsey wouldn’t talk to me on the van ride back to the resort. How in God’s name am I going to sit down with her and discuss anything about Victor and me like an adult? It’s none of her business now that she’s not a child anymore and she’s about to start a life with her own spouse, but that’s far easier said than felt, on either of our sides.
It’s been just us for so long. And separately, just her and Victor. And I think maybe that’s the root of her reaction. Only when Leah was sick were Victor and I a team. After Leah died, after my guilt and shame drove him away the night of her funeral, I set up the way we’ve been ever since. Kelsey lived with me until she left for college and she could spend as much time with Victor as she wanted or as he had available, but Victor and I barely spoke. We communicated through Kelsey on things like permission for school trips, doctor’s appointments, and extracurricular activities. She spent Thanksgiving and Christmas with me and summer vacations with Victor.
She’s needled me about being “weird” around Victor for years—up until the day of my fitting for the suit—and now I’m wondering whether, all along, she’s wanted nothing more than for her dads to get along.
Except maybe not this way. Maybe not by having a relationship with each other that’s separate and apart from our relationship with her. It’s not a very mature attitude, but how mature can a person be about their parents, no matter their age? I know I’m still incapable of being mature about my own father.
“Should we go to dinner?” I finally ask Victor.
He shakes his head. “Nah, I’m good.”
I don’t really want to try to force conversation with Kelsey and Adrienne right now, either, but I think Victor probably should have some food to soak up all the wine he’s been drinking. I’m feeling a little buzzed myself and I haven’t had nearly as much. “What if I go get some food and bring it back here?”
Victor shrugs. “Whatever you want, man.”
