Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 32375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
“Don’t worry about me,” I insisted, not wanting my father to stress over anything.
“Stop treating me like an invalid,” he grouched. “I get enough of that from your mother and sisters. Now, tell me about her.”
I hesitated, but my father was always the one I’d gone to for anything, so the story just spilled out. When I got to the part about hacking into her life, I cringed, worried he would tell me I was crazy and to get some professional help. But he’d laughed and glanced over at my mother.
“If they’d had that kind of technology available when I met your mother, I doubt I’d have done any different. Unfortunately, when she went away with her family, I had no way to watch over her.” He gestured to my face. “And now you see why I recognize your predicament.”
I nodded but tried to steer things away so he would rest. “We can talk about this later, Papá.”
“Do you remember when I took you for that drink after your mother made you so mad bugging you about grandchildren?”
“Of course,” I replied. It had always stuck with me.
I used to look to my father for help when my mother was on my last nerve about kids. He had never stepped in, and I just assumed he was as scared of my mother as the rest of us. Until one day, he took me out for that drink and explained.
“There is no one on this earth that I love more than your mamá. And when you love someone like that, you’ll do whatever it takes to make them happy.”
We’d always known our parents were deeply in love, and their relationship had set a high bar for us. None of us would settle for less. “So you keep quiet so she won’t be mad?” I’d asked.
My father had snorted a laugh and rolled his eyes, then taken a swallow of his drink before replying. “I didn’t say avoid making her upset, boy. I said make her happy. I strive to do that every day.”
I’d scratched my goatee and studied him as I tried to understand. “I fail to see the difference in this situation.”
“Grandchildren will make her happy, Diego. So no, I don’t stop her from pestering you.” Then he’d shocked the fuck out of me with his next statement. “I encourage it.”
I honestly hadn't known what to say.
The funny thing was, the one thing that stuck with me from that conversation wasn’t that he’d perpetuated my misery. It was the depth with which he loved my mother. It was one of the reasons I’d quit looking for a relationship. How could their love ever be replicated? I wouldn't settle for less, and it was unlikely I’d ever find it. So, I gave up before I could really even try.
Allison changed all of that in an instant.
“Do you spend every day plotting to make her dreams come true, Diego?” my father asked, pulling me from my memories.
“Yes.”
“Do you love her?”
“To the depths of my soul,” I answered without hesitation.
“Then stop worrying about me and go get your girl.”
“But—”
“Is she going to be the reason you finally give your mamá nietos?”
I grinned, but then it fell into a deep frown when I remembered why I’d been so agitated in the first place. “Soon,” I grunted.
“What did I say about actually making your mamá happy, son? Get a move on. And don’t come back until she’s pregnant.”
I looked around dubiously. We were still at the hospital for crying out loud. I couldn’t just leave. Who would take care of everything?
“I’m proud of the man you’ve become, Diego. And I know it’s second nature for you to step in and take charge, being so much older than your brother and sisters.”
My parents had conceived me shortly after their wedding and then hadn’t been able to get pregnant again. After ten years, they quit trying. Then a year later, my mother was pregnant. Two years later, my next sister came along, then one more after that. Each time, they’d chalked it up to a miracle and assumed it was their last. After four kids, three of whom were unplanned, they were happy with our family and had decided it was time to stop leaving it up to fate, so my father got a vasectomy. Four years later, my mother was pregnant with the twins.
I remembered that day vividly. My father had strutted around, puffed up like a peacock with a dopey grin on his face for days. “Can’t keep a good man down,” he’d told their friends, earning a laugh from me and a smack on the arm from my horrified mother.
As the oldest, it was natural for me to lead, to set an example, and be the one everyone could depend on.
My father continued, “It’s time to let them sink or swim. We’ll be there for them no matter what happens, but they need to figure life out on their own. Be the focus of your own life for a change.” He glanced at my mother and smiled with such love, it snapped things into perspective. I needed to get to Allison. When he looked back at me, he winked. “Go, go. What are you waiting for?”