Page 7 of Sweet T

“Will you please shut up?”

Pedro looked at the two of them, chuckling to himself. He’d first met them in the summer of 1995, introduced in the same spot at the same table—two four-year-olds laughing and playing around similar to the way they were now. They may have gotten older, but as the saying goes, the more things change, the more they stay the same.

“I’m not worried about my Sweet T,” he said. “When the right man comes along, it’ll happen. And we’ll host the wedding right here by the pool if you like. Just like me and your daddy next month.”

Shelly froze, mid-funky chicken.

“Wait,” said Tucker. “What?”

Pedro grinned, face glowing. “I came home for lunch, hoping to catch you two here. The Supreme Court just ruled in favor of gay marriage. I’ve been on the phone with your daddy, Tucker. We’re getting married.”

There was a moment of stunned silence, then—

“OH, MY GOD!” Shelly shouted, moving behind Pedro’s chair and wrapping her arms around him. “This is the greatest news! I’m so happy for you both!”

“It’s good news for everyone,” Pedro said. “Nationwide. I’m still a little in shock from hearing it.”

Tucker stared. He was smiling, euphoric, trying to process it all.

“I can’t think of a better place, can you?” Pedro asked.

“No,” Tucker said. “It’s perfect. We spend more time here than anywhere. Always have.”

“Well, you know I love you,” Shelly said. “But I still have to go. I want to know all the details, though. Keep me posted.”

“Will do, love. Go get that degree.”

Shelly kissed him on the cheek, grabbed her bag, and made for her car in the driveway. “See you at four, T.”

“Three-thirty,” he hollered.

“Whatever.”

They sat quietly for a while before Pedro asked. “Are you OK?”

“Yeah. Just a little stunned, that’s all. Have you told Javy yet?”

“No. Your father was going to call him.”

“What time would it be there? He may be asleep.”

“Madrid? No. They’re six hours ahead of us. It’s dinnertime.”

Tucker nodded. He didn’t keep track of such things. Ever since his stepbrother, Javy, had arrived from Mexico in 2005, he’d fallen in rank somewhat with his father, Titus. Javy had been all the things that Tucker was not... the star pupil, the athlete, the achiever, and now the scholar abroad.

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear the news.”

“Are you? I’m not convinced.”

Tucker looked into Pedro’s deep brown eyes, eyes that had been reassuring him for two decades now.

Yes, your father loves you. But we have to go to Javy’s—game, recital, quiz, play, meet, whatever. Insert any activity; all were relevant. Javy exceeded at everything compared to Tucker. Sweet T. Always sweet, always second.

“I am happy,” Tucker said. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

“What is it? You know you can tell me anything.”

“I’m thinking about moving out. It’s time. I have the tavern. I should probably have my own place.”

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