Her words echoed off the gleaming new tile, the heaviness in her voice palpable at the mention of her oldest son.
I crooked my elbows before twining my fingers behind my neck. “Amos and I will keep an eye on Jayden,” I said.
Gloria nodded, gesturing to the casserole dish. “It’s lasagna. My specialty.”
I barely had a moment to say thank you before she tapped my cheek again and walked out.
Afterward, I registered the wild thumping of my heart.Dios. I loved construction, but the confirmation I’d done something meaningful for Jayden felt like the sweetest high. No wonder Marisol loved her job.
No wonder Cori couldn’t sleep at night, worrying about the Center’s finances.
The month and a half beforethe gala passed quickly. I worked nonstop trying to help Juan at J&D and finish my projects at the Center before the big night. When I could, I got together with Cruz. I worried about him. He was living alone in his dad’s old house and had started at a warehouse job working the nightshift. He’d meet up with me but never said much. I consoled myself that it was a start.
Cori threw herself into event preparations with a vengeance. She told me she, Ana, and Quincy were doing everything they could to get more people to the event. Much of the gala’s success hinged on having a full house. The hope was that the small-dollar donations would add up and put them over the top. I saw the stress on her face and did my best to ease it, letting her vent about sponsors who were late with their contributions or the stage rental that was costing an arm and a leg.
Because of everything going on, the air between us always felt anticipatory and thick with urgency. But we’d turned a corner because now we were each other’s safe place. We still weren’t public with our relationship, but I was fairly certain everyone around us had figured it out.
At the end of November, Marisol invited Cori to Thanksgiving at our parents’ house, which saved me from having to figure out a way to get her there without giving away the game. Except that cover did nothing to disguise the way I looked at Cori across the table, or how I kept inadvertently caressing her lower back.
But Cori had been dead-on about one thing. Not declaring our relationship gave our loved ones the message that it wasn’t something we wanted to discuss right now. Not openly. My family knew I’d been avoiding Cori since I’d gotten out, but didn’t press for explanations as to why I’d finally come to my senses.
I didn’t mind working with whatever timeline Cori needed. As long as I got to hold her in my arms every night, I could be patient. And, whether at her place or mine, we made those nights a priority.
We had so much external crap to stress about, but in the bedroom, it was as though we’d created the most impenetrable bubble around us. Inside that cocoon, we built layers of intimateknowledge that would fortify us when we inevitably took those walls down and invited the rest of the world to know us as a couple. We also discovered that, even after decades, we still had things to learn about one another.
She asked about them in the hush of the dark. The minor burn I’d gotten on my torso the day of the fire, when I’d used my body to cover Marisol’s. The overly round knuckle from a broken finger that hadn’t healed right after an altercation in prison. And the small silver scar on my arm, from the glass on the ground when I fought Chi-chi—a scar that matched the one on Cori’s foot.
Being with Cori was like coming home in a way I hadn’t been prepared for. Both the end and the beginning of a path. There were twelve-and-a-half missing years in the middle, but I couldn’t regret them entirely. They’d prepared me to accept that this was not only exactly where I wanted to be but also where I was meant to be. Where I deserved to be.
Now that the gala had arrived, I only hoped it would go well, and then we could move on to our next chapter.
Chapter thirty-five
Cori
Deck and I got ready for the gala at his house. I’d helped him unpack all his U-Haul boxes and replace them with actual furniture over the past month, including the small vanity I was sitting at in the corner of the bedroom. Staring at my reflection in the small makeup mirror, I thought I’d done a passable job with my contouring, but no amount of concealer would disguise the worry lines in my face.
Despite Ana, Quincy, and me calling at least two hundred former donors, we hadn’t pre-secured all the funding for tonight. I had a lot of folks from JBC and TremMark attending, and I hoped they would be generous, but by my calculations, we were still two hundred thousand shy of the commitments we needed. And that included Jason’s, Brad’s, and Graham’s confirmations that they’d be raising the paddle for twenty-five thousand each.
We had close to two hundred folks coming tonight whose donation amounts I didn’t know ahead of time. I hoped they’dpush us past our target. But that was a long shot. I’d received a crash course in nonprofit events from Ana over the past few months and learned that a handful of generous patrons primarily achieved fundraising goals, while most attendees gave at a lower level. Historically, the Center’s gala averaged gifts of two hundred and fifty dollars, so quadrupling that would be a stretch. Then again, I’d brought a lot of new energy and supporters tonight. Maybe it would be okay?
Deck came out of the bathroom, tugging on his tie.
“Wow,” I said, admiring the snug fit of his dark blue suit. He’d insisted on buying one for the event, the first suit he’d ever owned. Last weekend, he’d gone into Seattle with Emilio to buy it.
Over the past few months, Deck had been doing his best to spend as much time with Cruz as possible, but he’d also been hanging out more with Emilio and Marisol. It was gratifying to watch the siblings reconnect, to see Deck allow himself to have a closer relationship with them. I thought of it as him unpacking metaphorical boxes, along with the ones we’d finally gotten rid of in his living room.
After tonight, no matter what happened, our relationship would be “official.” It had been necessary to build it in secret. We’d needed that space, but I was done hiding. We weren’t going to announce it or anything. But I’d be on Deck’s arm, and that would be enough of a signal to everyone we cared about.
“Back atchya,” Deck said, taking in my close-fitting metallic purple dress. He came up behind me as I applied mascara. I’d coaxed my hair into loose waves and pulled them back on one side with a sparkly barrette. He pushed the strands over my shoulder and kissed me delicately on my neck. “Baby, you are the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Thanks, babe,” I said, glancing down shyly. There were still moments when I mentally pinched myself that Deck and I were together.
“I’m going to feed Bastardo so he doesn’t destroy the house while we’re gone… Also,babe?” He smiled.
“Just trying it out,” I mumbled.
He coaxed me to stand so he could wrap his arms around me from behind. “I like it,mamí,” he said in a voice so low and sexy my knees wobbled. “Another little reminder that I’m yours for real now.”
