But Arturo Decker had been the first person to put on a tiara whenever Marisol wanted to play princesses. Anytime he saw me walking home from school, he came up next to me and slipped my backpack onto his shoulder. He helped my mom stir pasta when her hands shook too badly to do it, and he stuck up for Eliazar whenever someone uttered homophobic nonsense.
Sure, Deck had made mistakes, but if I wasn’t defined by that terrible night with Chi-chi, then neither was he.
Despite his tough exterior, at his core Deck was a big-hearted teddy bear with an instinct to protect people and an innate inclination toward kindness. No doubt prison had hardened him, but I’d gotten enough of a vibe over the past week to know that it hadn’t stomped out that part of his nature.
Which was good. Because I needed to convince that big heart of his to fix some toilets.
Chapter nineteen
Deck
Ipulled my truck into the parking lot in front of the Center and killed the engine. My fingers gripped the steering wheel as I stared at the toolbox resting on the passenger seat. I’d drag my ass into the building soon enough, but first, I needed a minute.
My older sisters and my brother Raymond had gone to the Center regularly as kids. So had Marisol once she was medically allowed. I’d always been too cool for it. I still knew Rosa from the neighborhood, and she and Mamá had grown closer since I got locked up, but the building itself was mostly a mystery.
There were snippets of connection, though. The front steps where I’d sat with Cori while she talked to me about school. The bike rack where Eliazar used to lock up his old BMX. The massive parking lot where Pop taught me to drive a stick shift.
The Center was part of the collective memory of all the kids who grew up around here. Whether you attended there your whole life or only went to play baseball or go to summer camp,you knew about it. At the very least, you knew other kids who went. This stayed true even as the outskirts of the neighborhood gentrified. Unlike the McDonald’s that turned into a fancy hot pot restaurant, and the old apartments they tore down to build boxy condo buildings, the Center had stood for generations.
That was why I’d agreed when Cori texted last week and asked me to help fix it up.
Her messages had been short and to the point. She’d spoken to Marisol and hoped I could do some free building repairs while she helped Rosa sort out the place’s finances. After talking with my sister, I got more details about what was going on. I’d known about Lupe’s illness from Mamá, but Rosa had done a great job concealing the Center’s money troubles.
Initially, I thought maybe Juan could do the work. But when I asked him, he reminded me of the conversation we had at Tubby’s, telling me again I needed to stop avoiding Cori.
“You need to clear the air with her,hermano,” Juan had said. “It’s not just about repairing the drywall.” Pointing to his head, he added, “You need to fix up here.”
“I know. It’s just… Sometimes it’s hard to know how we even got to this place.” I stuffed my hands in my pockets.
“Amigo, you know I have so much love for you, so I’m telling you this as your friend because I’m tired of having the same conversation. You need to move on. Figure this out. You’re so stuck blaming yourself for the past that you’ve barely been living since you got out.”
I glanced sideways at him. “That’s not true. I have our business. My house.”
“A business you let me make all the big decisions on. We’re supposed to be partners, and you act like I’m gonna walk if you don’t agree with me on everything. And you still haven’t unpacked those boxes in your house. You get up, work, go home. You’re still living like you’re in a cage—”
“Bien.Bastante.” I dug my fingernails into my palms. “I know.”
Juan put his hand on my shoulder. “You’re allowed to have a life, Deck. Go to the Center. Spend some time with Cori. See that she’s alright. Maybe get to know her again as grown-ups. Your baby sister, too. And do something good for the neighborhood while you’re at it.”
He was right. I’d been keeping myself from having to face her recovery. Her resilience. To admit it might be okay for both of us to move on.
I exhaled and got out of the truck. At the glass-walled entrance, I hit the button, and Marisol let me in.
“So good to see you, big brother.” She came around and gave me a hug, always holding on a little longer than anyone else did.
“Thanks, squirt.” I held up my toolbox as I glanced around the brightly decorated atrium. “Where should I start? I want to make a list of everything you need, but I’m hoping to knock some easy things out today.”
She laughed. “Glad to see you’re all business. Chuck should be here in about ten minutes, and he can take you on a walk-through. For now, why don’t you head into the office—last door at the end of the second hallway—and check in with Cori.” A vibrating sensation bubbled under my skin. Despite my decision to stop actively staying away from her, I hadn’t expected to face Cori five minutes after getting out of my truck. My hesitation must have shown on my face because Marisol added, “Deck, you need to rip the Band-Aid off. It won't help anyone if you two are awkward around each other. Go say hi. That’s all you need to do. Geesh.”
My annoying baby sister had a point. No time like the present. Heading to the hallway, I tried to act cool. Inside, my gut churned.
At the open office door, I saw Cori hunched over a laptop on the desk, humming confidently as she looked down at the screen and made notes on a yellow legal pad.
I knocked on the doorframe.
Her eyes lifted, and I swallowed down my instant reaction to her sky-blue gaze.
She was so beautiful.
