Page 45 of Party of Three

He’d put in too much work on the damn thing to delete it, so he added his final summation to the end.

If we pursue this, I want you both to myself.

His hand shook when he clicked the print button.

Halfway across the lobby, a woman called out to him and he spun, having trouble placing the voice.

“I didn’t know you stayed the weekend!” Mateo’s sister Marisol was walking toward him across the lobby, enfolding him in a big, perfume-scented hug before he could tuck his fresh printout to his chest. “Listen, do you know what room they’re in? The front desk won’t tell me and neither of them are answering my texts.”

“They’re in one of the villas. 6E. Why? Is something wrong?”

“Wrong? I don’t think so.Intense, maybe.” She pointed in the direction of the restaurant. A couple who looked a little olderthan Jeff sat silently at one of the glass tables, heads bowed in deep thought, hands linked across the table. Maybe they were praying. The man had Mateo’s height and wavy ink-black hair. The woman had his rounded chin and curious brown eyes. “Are those…”

Marisol nodded. “I’ll give you the short version. Father Jones, the prick who tried to destroy our family, got caught stealing from the churchandsending the money to a girlfriend in Santa Barbara.”

Jeff swallowed, looked to Marisol to make sure she wasn’t kidding. “Catholic priests aren’t allowed to have girlfriends,” he finally said.

“Stealing’s out too. Mom was so devastated she took to her bed two weeks ago. I didn’t want to tell Teo ’cause I didn’t want to distract from his party. But the party was tearing her up all weekend. I mean, it’s not like I don’t understand. She disowned her son on the advice of a thieving hypocrite, and she was too humiliated to ask him to forgive her. But this morning, she finally had enough of feeling sorry for herself. Made me drive them both down here. They want to make things right. And they want to meet Buckley.” Her eyes lit up, and she clapped her hands together. “Kind of a great birthday present, right?”

Jeff’s heart dropped. The confidence that had propelled him away from that cheap old desktop computer started to wither away inside of him.

“So I guess Christmas is back on the table,” he said.

Marisol dabbed at her eyes. “Yeah, I think so. Come on. Take us to their room.”

She took his hand and gave it a little tug. Everything inside of him tensed up. His feet turned to concrete blocks.

Christmas, he thought.Mateo’s about to get his family and his favorite holiday back, and it’s been hard enough for him to do that with one boyfriend. But two?

“No. It’s…” He pointed in the direction of the hallway leading to the villas. “It’s that way. This is a family thing. You guys have your moment.”

Marisol nodded, but her smile was flickering and fading as if she could sense his sadness and wasn’t sure what to make of it.

He headed for the motor court before she could question him.

Had he left something in the villa? Of course not. He’d never planned to stay. He’d been a guest, that was all.

The best thing to do was leave, fast. This was Mateo’s moment. More importantly, it was Buckley’s moment to be accepted by Mateo’s family. Finally. After months of being made to feel like the guy who’d shattered it to pieces. And here he was, seconds away from asking them both to make a commitment to him? Insane.

This was exactly the reality check he needed. The weekend had been wild and hot and wonderful. Now it was over.

It was time for Mateo and Buckley to be the kind of gay couple his parents might finally accept.

And it was time for Jeff to go home and be a grown-up about all this.

* * * *

At first, Mateo told himself he was imagining the smell. Sweet and floral and deeply familiar, a constant throughout his childhood and most of his adult life as well—up until a few months ago.

His mother’s perfume.

He’d been watching mindless reality television with Buckley, fighting the urge to take off in search of Jeff. They needed to give the man his space, Buckley had told him. Everything had happened so fast it was only natural an A-type like Jeff needed time to pull his thoughts together. They could expect a lectureand an overly detailed battle plan, for sure, but both things would be worth it if he was willing to make the leap. So when Mateo shot up off the sofa at the familiar smell, Buckley said “Babe” in a strained voice that made it sound like he thought Mateo was going back on their agreement.

As soon as he opened the door, Mateo found himself staring into those huge brown eyes that had always been able to make him feel either chastised or commended in an instant. He had those eyes too. His mother’s eyes. His mother was here. And she was crying. After a few seconds of stunned silence, she threw her arms around him and exploded with a wrenching sob.

Marisol was next to her, and the story came flying out in rapid-fire Spanish. Father Jones. Stealing. A mistress. Their father stepped in behind their mother, placed a hand on her shoulder, his head bowed the way it had been when he’d once forgotten to set the parking brake on their truck and it had almost rolled into the street, its back left bumper catching on a power pole at the last possible second. He’d never seen his parents so crestfallen and weary, or his mother quite this hysterical. Their hugs and apologies, as incoherent as they were, gave him joy, but their obvious shame made it hard to savor.

Then, once they both caught their breath, they turned to Buckley, who was so stunned by their dramatic entrance, he hadn’t moved from where he’d first stood up. His eyes were wide and glistening as Mateo’s mother moved to him. Gently, she took both of his hands in hers. Then she kissed him on one cheek and then the other.

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