“I’d love to meet her,” Marina says without hesitation, and I realize I’m thrilled to have another reason to see her.
“Great. She should be here Friday morning. She’s only staying a few days because she’s got to get ready for school, but it’ll be fun. She’s sixteen. She’s great. Funny. Smart.”
“You light up when you talk about her.”
I nod and grab another cookie. “She’s my favorite person on the planet.”
“You close with your brother?”
I chew and think about it. “I don’t know that I’d call us close. I mean, he’s my brother. I love him. But we’re very different people. If there wasn’t Chloe, I don’t know how often I’d see him or talk to him.”
She nods thoughtfully, like she gets it.
“What about you? Are you and Marco close?” I frown and wrinkle my nose. “I passed the office the other day when you were arguing.”
She smiles what looks to be a sad one. “Marco and I were veryclose growing up. Probably because I wanted to be a boy back then.” We both laugh softly, understanding how that happens to lots of us lesbians when we’re young. “He’s a little older and I followed him around like a puppy. He was my hero.”
“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”
She takes another bite of her cookie and chews for a moment before continuing. “But he can be kind of sexist, to be honest. It’s not a quality I love about him. Our father is very traditional, and instead of helping to educate him and bring him into a more modern way of thinking, Marco tends to…” She squints and does that searching-for-a-word thing. “Emalate?”
“Emulate.”
“Yes.” She snaps her fingers and points at me. “He emulates my dad. Which means he thinks I should follow in my mother’s footsteps and do the cooking and cleaning in the hotel. Women’s work.” She scoffs, pairs it with an eye roll, and grabs another cookie.
“Oh, that’s frustrating.”
“It is. And my little sister Valentina doesn’t help. She’s sweet but doesn’t have much ambition, so she’s perfectly happy to work in the hotel. It’s easy and convenient for her.” She turns to me. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my sister. She’s sweet and kind. But she has no drive. The hotel will be all she knows. It makes me sad.”
“It’s her choice, though, right?” I don’t like the worry I see in her eyes. I want to make it better.
“It is.” She lets out a soft sigh. “I know. Still.”
“You want more for her.”
“Exactly.”
“Well, that just makes you a good big sister.” I drink the last of my espresso. “What about your parents?”
“I love them. Wonderful people. My dad can be hard. And as I’ve said, he’s not exactly a modern guy. But he’s a good man.And my mother? She is the kindest person I’ve ever known.” When she talks about her parents, her expression goes soft, and there’s a tender smile that I wonder if she’s even aware of.
“I feel that way about my parents, too, though my dad is pretty modern.”
“When did you come out?”
“I was a freshman in college. I fell in love with my roommate. My very straight roommate. Such a cliché, just like my high school best friend.” I snort a laugh and shake my head. “She started dating a frat guy, and I was shattered. Which was…” I sigh. “Just so stupid of me. But I was eighteen and it was such a deeper love than before, at least to me, and so spent the second semester of my freshman year just crying and being heartbroken. I was a walking young adult novel. My poor mother had to put me back together. That’s when I came out to her. She said she’d pretty much always known, which kind of took the drama away.”
Marina’s grin is both amused and sympathetic. “We all have those kinds of stories, don’t we? I’m glad your mom knew. And your college roommate has no idea what she missed out on.”
I feel my cheeks warm, and it has nothing to do with the heat of the day. “I don’t know. We’re still in touch and she’s married to the frat guy now. They have three kids.”
“Ah, so, not meant to be, then.”
“Nope.” A beat goes by and I say, “What about you? When did you come out?”
“A bit earlier than you. I was still in high school. Played on the football team, er, soccer to you. Had a major crush on my coach.”
“Talk about cliché.” I laugh and reach over the small table to give her a playful shove in the arm. “Your coach? Seriously? So unoriginal.”
