Page 17 of A Lot Like Adiós
I don’t know. But it’s not working at a card shop in the Bronx. I’m leaving. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.
Gabe had seen them a few more times after that, but it had only gotten worse. After the incident at his sister’s wedding, he’d been done with his parents for good.
Michelle turned on their street, and Gabe’s pulse spiked. Familiar houses, barely changed in the last decade, pinged his memory one after the other, each a little pinprick of grief.
No. There was no way he could spend four days here. It would kill him.
Who was it who’d said “You can never go home again”? Whoever it was, they were right. This wasn’t his home anymore. And he couldn’t—wouldn’t—go back.
The Amato and Aguilar families lived on a block with a few small stand-alone houses—a combo of red brick and aluminum siding—that had driveways, but no garages. Predominantly an Italian neighborhood, the demographic had shifted a bit over the years Gabe had lived there. He had no idea what it was like now, except that his Puerto Rican and Mexican parents and Michelle’s Puerto Rican and Italian parents still lived there. Michelle’s mother was one of the reasons his own mom felt comfortable moving next door.
After Gabe left for the last time, the only person he’d stayed in touch with was his older sister, Nicole.
Nikki was a mom now, with two children—Oliver, who was seven, and Lucy, who was nine and had transitioned two years earlier. Gabe had met his niece and nephew for the first time when Nikki had taken the kids to Disneyland. Gabe bought their tickets, since they’d made the longer flight to Disneyland in California, as opposed to Walt Disney World in Florida, just to see him. It was the first time he’d seen Nikki in person since her wedding, and he’d had fun with her and the kids. And when Nikki and her husband, Patrick, took a family trip to Colorado, Gabe had flown out to join them.
He FaceTimed with Lucy and Oliver regularly, but when he thought about his own uncles, he couldn’t help but feel like he was remiss in his Tío Duties. Tío Marco, Gabe’s godfather, hadalways been around when he was a kid. His father’s younger brother, Marco, had helped Gabe’s parents when they’d moved to this neighborhood, had picked Gabe up from baseball practice and gone to his games, and intervened when Gabe’s dad got on his case about working more hours in the stationery store.
Stop thinking about the store, Gabe told himself. It would only make this worse.
As Michelle pulled into the driveway of her family’s house, Gabe scrunched down as much as he was able to. He peeked out the car window at his parents’ house, to the right of Michelle’s. It was too close, the car and steps too visible from the front windows.
“I can’t do this,” he muttered in a strangled voice.
Michelle shut the car off. “Don’t worry, your parents go to bed early.”
“Their bedroom light is still on.”
“Why on earth would they be looking out the window to check when I get home?”
“You don’t know my mother.”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” she replied breezily, and got out of the car.
“Wait.” He reached across and grabbed her wrist before she could close the door. Her skin was cool against his. He was burning up with anxiety. “I’ll go in through the back.”
“Suit yourself.” Taking her keys out of her purse, Michelle rounded the car and climbed the steps to the front door. After a deep breath, Gabe opened the car door as quietly as he could and slunk out. Shutting it gently, he crept along the side to the trunk. This would be easier if he weren’t wearing a white T-shirt, but he hadn’t expected to sneak inside under cover ofdarkness, now had he? He slipped his suitcase out but when he closed the trunk, it made a loudthunk, and he winced. He didn’t dare drag his luggage, so he cradled it against his chest, trying not to think about airport germs as he crouch-ran toward the gate on the left side of the house.
By now Michelle was unlocking the front door. When Gabe opened the gate, the hinge creaked loudly, and she shot him an amused look. He ducked through and finally, with an entire house separating him from view of his parents, he straightened to his full height.
Pausing to take a breath, he looked around, unable to believe where he was. For the first time in nine years, he was in the same space as his parents. They were home, and so damn close. He’d seen an SUV in the driveway, and his mom’s car—the one she’d bought right before he graduated college—was parked at the curb.
Bitterness blossomed in his chest, and a strange tension took hold of him. For all these years, he’d tried not to think of them. It had been too painful. And it was painful now, but also... some small part of him really wanted to see them. Wanted them to seehim.
It wouldn’t go well. He knew that. His interactions with them hadn’t gone well since he was fourteen years old, marked by yelling and criticism. There was no reason for that to have changed.
Adjusting his grip on the suitcase, Gabe made his way to the back of the house. Here, he had to be careful. Michelle’s backyard was separated from his by only a low chain-link fence, andthe sliding glass doors leading into Michelle’s basement would be easily visible by—
He stopped. The fence he’d climbed over countless times as a child was gone, replaced by a stylish wooden lattice covered by climbing plants.
This, more than anything else, triggered a fresh wave of grief. What else had changed in his absence?
He heard a door open and nearly leaped out of his skin, but it was just Michelle opening the kitchen door, up a short flight of steps from the mostly concrete backyard.
“Come on,” she hissed.
He’d expected her to open the sliding doors to the basement, but of course she had to make this even more difficult for him. With a muttered curse, Gabe hefted the suitcase and tiptoed across the yard to the steps.
A bright light flashed on and he froze. On the tiny deck outside the kitchen, Michelle gestured frantically for him to get a move on. Realizing it was just a motion sensor light, Gabe tucked the suitcase under one arm and jogged up the steps as quickly and quietly as he could. He slipped past Michelle into the dark kitchen and finally, with great relief, put the suitcase down.
