Love: Not Until You, Part 8. Roni Loren

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СКАЧАТЬ sense of loss filled me. Everything has stayed the same except us.

      Life had tarnished that dappled sunlit photograph of a doting father and the daughter that worshipped him. The long afternoons of discussing the wonders of nature and the animal world had shifted into butting heads and growing distant. I didn’t even know who those two people were anymore.

      Papá stopped at the small clearing where two picnic tables had sat for as long as I could remember. He set down our coffees and bent over to check beneath the tables. A smile touched my lips. I didn’t have to ask what he was doing. Ever since the day I had a very unfortunate encounter with a pissed off yellow jacket, my dad had always checked for nests before we sat down.

      He stood and patted the top of the table. “All clear, mija.”

      “Thanks.” I set the bag down in the center of the table and climbed onto the bench. “You want the brisket or the chorizo?”

      “Give me one of each. I haven’t had them in a long time. Your mamá has me drinking smoothies in the morning. Green ones.”

      I cocked an eyebrow at him, having a hard time imagining him drinking such a thing. “Do they have bacon in them?”

      He laughed. “I wish. She puts kale. Have you ever heard of such a thing?”

      “I think I’d rather eat a salad.” I unwrapped two tacos for each of us, spreading the paper out on the table.

      We ate for a few minutes, the chirping birds providing the soundtrack, and I began to wonder if we were going to share the whole meal in silence. But as soon as my dad polished off the brisket taco, he took a long sip of a coffee, then pinned me with his patented don’t-lie-to-me look. “So you think you’re in love.”

      I picked at a piece of egg that had fallen onto the grease-speckled paper. “I think I may be.”

      “But you were out with the Ruiz boy last night before Romeo showed up?”

      I frowned. “His name is Foster. And yes, I was, but Michael and I are only friends. I was out with him … trying to forget about Foster.”

      He balled up the wrapper from his first taco and tossed it in the bag, his thick brows low over his eyes. “I see.”

      I huffed a breath and peered out toward the trees, not sure what to say to my dad to make him have any sort of understanding.

      “You know,” he said, following my line of sight, “when we used to come out here, I’d break the rules and feed the animals.”

      I turned to him. “What? No, you didn’t. You were always careful. You told me we couldn’t mess with their natural diet.”

      He shook his head. “I would carry dried corn in my pocket to drop along the way so that you’d get to see the animals.” He smiled warmly, and I could tell he was looking back in time, seeing the past like I had a few minutes ago. “Your little face would light up anytime you saw the simplest thing—a squirrel, a robin. The few times we saw a deer, I thought you were going to explode with excitement. I couldn’t bear the thought of us making a trip out here and you not getting the chance to see anything.”

      “Papá,” I said, the admission touching me. “I always thought that we were lucky, that the animals happened to like us.”

      He looked at me then, his dark eyes a little glossy. “We were lucky, mija. We had a happy family then. I had kids who were on the way to making good lives for themselves. And I had you, who by some miracle, liked the same things I did and wanted to walk in my footsteps. I didn’t want anything to touch that bubble.”

      I tucked my hands in my lap, food forgotten.

      “But I let you all down,” he said, staring back out at the forest. “I was cocky to think nothing would change. I thought I’d done my job well and all would be fine. But as you all got older, everything changed so fast. All of a sudden, I didn’t know how to connect with you in the same way. I became someone to argue with instead of someone you came to with your problems. And I didn’t know how to handle that. I knew what dangers lurked out there in the world, the things that could derail good kids from their path. But even knowing it, I couldn’t seem to stop it. Luz had so much going for her, so much talent, and look how she tossed that away. For a boy. For so-called love.”

      “She made a mistake,” I said gently.

      “We both did, and it ruined everything,” he said, a bitter edge to his voice. “When I kicked her out, my happy family broke apart. Your mother has never truly forgiven me. She was already sad that Marco had decided to go into the military and was so far away. But losing Luz crushed her. She was never the same and neither were you kids. You began to see me as someone to fear, and Andre couldn’t move away fast enough. I went to Luz a few months afterward, wanting to make amends and help her, but she was too angry. She said she never wanted to see me again—that I was the coldest, most horrible father she could ever imagine.”

      I blinked, the news a shock to me. Luz had never mentioned that he’d ever reached out to her again.

      “I swore to myself then that I wouldn’t let anything like that happen again, that I would make sure you and Andre didn’t get off track.” He shook his head. “And here we are again. All my adult life, I’ve looked forward to the day when I could work side by side with one of my children, when I could pass on the family business to you. I know I’m tough on you, but the last few weeks have been some of the happiest I’ve had in years. To see you so confident, so professional. I swell with pride every time I see your name on the door next to mine.”

      “Papá,” I whispered, tears getting caught in my throat.

      He reached out and laid his hand over mine. “I want you to be happy, mija. But I also want you to be successful and follow the dream you’ve worked so hard for. No man is worth giving that up for. Don’t you think you can be happy here?”

      I stared down at our joined hands, his big one swallowing my small one, and a desperate, aching regret pinged through me. No man was worth giving up my happiness for. Not even my dad. I slid my hand from beneath his and back into my lap. “Papá, I am so thankful for everything you’ve given me and all your guidance. I wouldn’t be where I am without you. You’ve been a good father and mentor to me. And you need to know that I would never give up my career. I love what I do.”

      He nodded. “I’m glad to hear it.”

      I lifted my gaze to his. “But I don’t know if I need to be doing it here.”

      “Oh, Marcela.” He rubbed a hand over his forehead.

      The anguish in his voice almost did me in. A big part of me just wanted to make it better, wanted to tell him what he hoped to hear. But I’d spent so long trying to be who he wanted me to be, and it wasn’t fair for either of us for me to keep doing that. I wanted a good relationship with my dad, wanted to recapture the bond we used to have. But I knew that probably wouldn’t be possible with our working together and living so close. He was who he was. Turning off that overbearing side would require a personality transplant. And the more he smothered me, the more I’d resent him.

      And I could analyze to death my feelings for Foster and worry about the nature of our relationship and if it would last and on and on. But the truth of the matter was that I loved him. And maybe it would work. And maybe it wouldn’t. But I wasn’t going to spend СКАЧАТЬ