Page 78 of The Intimacy of Control

“Sure, but you look like a wad of fart today, so.”

“Can you not be an asshole for, like, one second?”

River leaned back, looking pretty pleased with himself. “Afraid not. That’s the whole point of being a little brother.”

Their mom peered around, looking at me. She pointed to the smaller loveseat off to the side, ushering me over. “You’re Jack, hm? Sit. We were just talking about you.”

That didn’t bode well. I sat down anyway, and Forrest took the seat right beside me. “It’s really nice to meet you. I’ve heard great things about you both.”

River made a tsk sound. “I would hope so. I’m amazing and have no flaws.”

“Except for the part where you showed up at Jack’s bar and threatened him.”

Their mom’s eyes widened as she turned to River. “Mijo… You threatened him?”

I was ready to sink straight through the cushion we were sitting on and find my way to hell. Why did he have to bring that up? I wasn’t going to bring it up. It was fine. Everything was fine, and now it was a whole thing.

River put his hands up in defense. “I was merely trying to talk some sense into him. If he was scared, I scared him even more. Scary versus scarier.” He shrugged. “It obviously worked.”

Their mom let out a long, exasperated sigh before turning back to me. “I’m sorry that my son is an idiot. I am glad he didn’t scare you off.”

“No, no, he definitely didn’t. I needed that little push, honestly. It all worked out in the end.”

She gave me a soft smile. “Well, consider yourself a part of the family, then. Come, let’s go eat. I’ll make the bowls.”

“Let me help, Ma.” Forrest was up before she was, but she shook her head, making her way to the kitchen.

“You can help by sitting at the table.”

Forrest kind of looked like a kicked puppy because of that. Poor thing just wanted to help. We did as she said, though, finding seats around the table. There were all kinds of decorations on the walls, making everything as cozy looking as the outside of the house.

Right in the center of the back wall, though, was a single picture frame and nothing else. Inside the picture frame was a photo of a man holding two small kids with a big smile on his face. He had the best mustache I’d ever seen.

“Ah, you see my Ernesto.” Forrest’s mom slid a bowl in front of me.

I glanced from her back to the photo. “Ernesto?”

“Our Papi,” River explained.

“Mhm. The baby is our little rushing River, and attached to his leg is our big, beautiful Forrest.”

The look she had on her face reminded me so much of Grandma’s. Nothing but pure love and adoration with a hint of a sparkle in her eyes. It was a look I stopped seeing in my mom the moment she signed me up for swimming lessons.

Six-year-old me would be very jealous right now.

Forty-year-old me just felt sad. Really fucking sad.

I looked back at the photo on the wall. “His eyes look so kind.”

She settled in the chair at the head of the table. We all had matching bowls with some kind of soup or stew in them with corn, some kind of meat, chili peppers, and plenty of fresh garnishes on top. We were sitting around a table like a real family. A family dinner I hadn’t had in decades. “He was very kind. Very happy. He worked hard to provide for all of us. Which wasn’t always good.” She set her elbows on the table and peered over at the picture. “He worked too hard. He was a good man.”

I could see the hurt in her eyes and feel the despair in her words. Grief was never-ending. I’d made peace with Grandma’s passing, but that didn’t mean I was immune to missing her. It wasn’t as fresh as Callum grieving his Papa, and it wasn’t as distant as Forrest’s mom grieving the love of her life and father of her children. It was in the in-between.

Grandma and I hadn’t been the closest until I’d moved here. We became best friends during the time between me showing up at her house for the first time and when she went to the hospital and never came out. I’d grieve her until my own death, I think.

I needed to introduce Forrest to her.

I tried to shake away the pain for now. Just for now. Just long enough to keep going. “I’m glad you had him. It sounds like you two had very happy lives together.”