Marco (The Men of Indecent Exposure #1) (10 page)

“And it looks like it,” Rosalina added under her breath. “Ow!” she yelled out when Lucia pinched her beneath her arm for getting smart.

Isobel laughed at that, showing the food in her mouth in the process.

“You can hold on to the Cutlass for
me
, Dad. My car’s been giving me trouble,” Marcela said, sipping lemonade right after.

I cocked my head to the side. “Why didn’t you say you were having problems with it? I could’ve taken care of it for you.”

She was shaking her head, protesting before I even finished speaking. “Because you already do too much. For me. For everyone. I knew if I said something you’d come to my rescue,” she added, flashing me a soft smile. “Besides, Dad’s…
‘gross, ancient’
car will suit me just fine until I can afford better,” she concluded.

All eyes were on me and I knew what they were thinking. They had all, on separate occasions, made it known that they often didn’t tell me about things going on in their lives because they hated that I always felt obligated to fix them. But, to me, that’s what family was for. I worked hard for a reason. Growing up in the Second Ward, we had it rough. As soon as I could get a job, I did, and as soon as I could work two at the same time, I did that, too. My family, everyone in it, was hard working. So it wasn’t like I was supporting a bunch of lazy adults. No, they were all working toward something and the way I saw it, I was in a position to help, so I always did.

Wiping my mouth, I stood from the table and reached down inside my back pocket for my wallet, ignoring my sister’s previous statement when I asked, “How much?”

“Marco, no,” Marcela said calmly, placing a hand on my wrist to stop me. I looked at her, seeing it in her eyes that she really didn’t want this. “You’re already doing enough,” she said, adding, “Actually, you’re doing
too
much
.”

Everyone around the table agreed, some with silent nods others vocalizing their opinions.

“We love you,” Lucia spoke up as I took my seat again, feeling off about not helping Marcela when I was perfectly capable of doing so. “But none of us feel good knowing that… you do what you do… basically because of us. I mean, hell… wanting to carry all of us was the whole reason you started working at that godforsaken club in the first place.”

To the average person, those words would’ve sounded judgmental, but not to me. I knew where Lucia was coming from because my family was very open about
everything.
They knew some of the things I’d seen working at
Indecent Exposure
over the years, but I kept myself away from that side of the industry. The guys I was close to weren’t involved in it either so, for me, it was sometimes like those things didn’t go on. I learned to be blind to them. So, while I heard my sister loud and clear, I didn’t hate my job. Never had. The money was good. The money was
easy
. And I was damn good at what I did.

The room was silent. Completely. When I glanced up, my father’s head was down and he wasn’t eating anymore. When he excused himself from the table, I was pretty sure I knew why. He, too, hated what I did for a living, but for different reasons than the women in our family. To him, my occupation meant he’d failed. When Lucia made the statement that I only got into dancing to take care of them, that was one-hundred percent true.

Years ago, our father had a pretty heavy dependency on alcohol. He gambled hard, too. Between those two vices, he wasn’t much of a provider
or
father. He went for help when I was about nineteen, but I’d already started dancing by then. I got tired of my mother and sisters always needing something and no one being able to give them those things. My father tried his damnedest to be the one to be there for them, to get back on his feet, but it took time.

We’d all forgiven him a long time ago for the hell he turned our childhood into, but he hadn’t forgiven himself.

“I’ll go check on him,” I announced, standing from my seat.

As I crossed the kitchen, the back door closed and I opened it again just as my father was stepping down from the porch. He stopped in the grass, folding his arms across his chest while he thought. I approached slowly, shoving my hands deep inside the pockets of my jeans.

My dad and I were close despite all our family had been through. We weren’t people to hold grudges or dwell on one another’s past mistakes, but like I said… this all still weighed very heavily on him.

“You all right?”

He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of my voice and forced a dim smile. “Ah, don’t worry about me,” he said, dropping his gaze to the ground.

I closed the last of the distance between us and stood at his side, staring at the fence.

“The past is the past,” I reminded him, thinking he might just need to hear it.

He nodded. “Yeah… I know. I just wish I’d been better for you kids. You deserved me at my best.”

I wouldn’t lie and pretend like things weren’t hard growing up, because they were.
Damn
hard. However, the man I was standing next to today didn’t deserve to pay for things the man I knew several years ago had done. The two had very little in common. They were almost separate people.

I placed a hand on my father’s shoulder and shook him a little. “Despite whatever you think you did wrong, we all came out all right,” I assured him, smiling a bit.

He chuckled. “Yeah… I suppose you’re right.” There was a long pause and then he added, “Thank you.”

I glanced at him, confused. “For?”

“For taking care of your sisters, your mother, when I couldn’t.” Those words hit me hard and I didn’t respond. “Sometimes, I wonder where they’d all be if you hadn’t stepped up to be the man of the family.”

We’d had several discussions about this, but he’d never said these things to me.

“Thank you. That means a lot,” I replied.

“And I know it’s not the same, but I do everything I can to be the best grandfather I can to Rosalina and Isobel. It won’t change the past, but it’s the only second chance I have, you know?”

I nodded, understanding what he meant.

“And one day when you and Lorna decide to start families of your own, I’ll be there for your kids just like I am for Lucia’s and Marcela’s girls.” He looked over to make sure I heard him. “That’s a promise, Marco. I mean it from the bottom of my heart.”

There wasn’t a doubt in my mind.

Seeing as how the subject of me having children came up all on its own, I decided to let my father be the first person I told my news to.

“Well, what would you say if I said you might not have to wait long to make good on that promise?”

Confusion filled my father’s expression and lingered there for a moment, but when I smiled at him, a look of knowing spread. His large hands clasped together as he scanned my face and I nodded, letting him know I meant exactly what he was thinking. His eyes tinged with pink where white should’ve been and I was sure they watered a little, but he was too proud a man to cry.

The tightest hug I’d ever received in my life was his reaction. I gripped him, too, hearing a gruff laugh bellow from his mouth. He stood back, holding both my shoulders in his hands. He looked me over with disbelief in his eyes, smiling big.

“Yeah?” he asked, not finding any other words at the moment.

I laughed and nodded. “Yeah. Just found out for sure a couple days ago.”

He embraced me hard again and then let go.

“I uh… I’m
shocked!
We didn’t even realize you were seeing anyone.”

I shrugged and scrubbed a hand across my chin while I thought of how to tell him that I
wasn’t
seeing anyone, but then he grabbed me again, only my shoulders this time, pride behind his eyes. “I’m happy. New additions are always welcome in the Rios family.”

I couldn’t have asked for a better response. I knew he had several questions, but he didn’t ruin this moment by asking them. They could wait for later; besides, I was sure Ma and my sisters would ask them all in a few minutes anyway once I broke the news to them, too.

My father and I headed back inside to face the women, but I felt better knowing he had my back.

“Val? Girls? Max?” he called out, closing the door behind us with a huge grin on his face. “Marco’s got something to share.” He placed a hand on my back and walked me toward the dining room where we’d just eaten. “And I sure hope you’re still sitting down.”

*****

My nieces were excused to the living room where they ate dessert in front of the television so the rest of us could talk in private. I waited until they were out of earshot before telling my family about Brynn, about the baby. My father stood beside me the whole time, nothing but supportive. When I finally got it out, I honestly expected
all
of my sisters to get on my case to some degree, but mostly there was just silence after my announcement.

The facial expressions around the room ranged from shocked to upset to confused, but no one really had much to say. I knew this news came as a surprise to them; however, what’s done was done by this point. The only thing
any
of us could do was move forward.

There were weak words of congratulations, but whatever they were
really
thinking they kept to themselves. Maybe they were waiting until later to discuss me over the phone, behind my back, instead of to my face.

I left there that night feeling like things went about as well as could be expected. However, a call from Marcela came through the second my head hit the pillow, letting me know I’d been naïve to think that. Apparently, her convictions were too strong to let her sleep, hence the reason my phone was ringing at midnight.

“Whassup?” I answered, yawning.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Now I was wide awake again, staring at the ceiling, apparently on the verge of getting cussed out.

“Maybe I could answer that if I knew what you were you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb, Marco,” she scoffed. “You know good-and-damn-well what this is about. A baby?” She screeched, making me move the phone away from my ear a few inches. “Do you even know this girl? I mean… I can’t believe you got yourself into this!”

I ran a hand down my face and breathed deep. I didn’t go into detail with them about how all of this happened, but they weren’t stupid. Their questions were minimal when I disclosed everything, but they knew I hadn’t been involved with anyone, so I was pretty sure they jumped to their own conclusions; probably the
right
conclusions. Still, I wasn’t expecting Marcela, the baby, of all people, to call and check me.

But here we were…

“And what’s your plan?” she asked next. I pictured her standing with her hands on her hips like our mother used to do—and still does on occasion—when she’s trying to let us know we messed up.

The answer to her question came easily, though. “I’m gonna be there.”

“Oh really,” she scoffed. “So, you think it’ll be that simple?”

What the hell did she want from me?

“Marcela—”

“How could you be so stupid?”

My knee-jerk reaction was to defend myself, but then I considered the source; considered who these harsh words were coming from. Marcela, being a single parent, probably saw all of this from an angle no one else in my family could relate to. When I made the connection, I chose not to react and just let her talk.

“I did the single parent thing,” she started. “It’s not gonna be easy. For you. For her. And if the two of you aren’t careful, the kid stands to be the most screwed up out of
all
of you!”

I took a deep breath and let that sink in.

“This just isn’t what I wanted for you,” she added. “And I don’t know this girl, but… if this all happened how I
think
it happened, then I can only imagine what
she
must be thinking and feeling right now, too.”

The silence on the other end was incredibly loaded. Marcela hadn’t had it easy, even with all of us doing what we could to help. It wasn’t just about having a support system and finances for her; she struggled with the emotional scars of things not working out like she wished, too.

“This is a full-time gig, Marco,” she said solemnly. “It’s a job you can’t clock out of. It’s day. It’s night. It’s when you don’t feel like doing it. It’s never-ending and I hoped that seeing me go through it
would’ve been lesson enough.” She paused. “I mean… I know I’m the youngest, so I don’t have a whole lot of life experiences I can teach the rest of you about, but this one I definitely can,” she added. “Trust me when I say parenting alone is probably the hardest thing I’ve ever faced.”

I hated that my actions had her worrying like this. I imagined the other two and my mother had similar thoughts, but hadn’t shared them. Marcela, given her circumstances, couldn’t hold all of this in and I respected that. I also respected that she waited to speak up until now. Frustration brought on by the familiarity of the situation could’ve easily caused her to lash out in front of everyone instead of doing this in private.