Chapter Thirty (Jane POV)

A little more than a week has passed since we dropped the news to Mateo that Michael and I are a couple and things aren't that great. Then again, they aren't quite awful either. Mateo hasn't thrown any massive tantrums since that first night but there is a sullen resentment that punctuates his every action now. If he's expected to do something he doesn't like, he wields his father like a weapon. More than once in the past week he's threatened to "go live with Daddy" in retaliation for something I've said or done. I haven't told him about the baby yet because I can't be sure how he'll react.

He doesn't talk to Michael at all, which might be seen as a gradual improvement given the circumstances but that's really not so great either. The only comfort I take in the entire situation is that I suspect that Mateo doesn't really want to be angry with us. But, he feels like he should be. I have a very good reason for feeling confident in that theory too. I watch my son very carefully when he thinks no one is paying attention.

Mateo is still as fascinated with Michael as ever but now he likes to pretend otherwise. While he no longer asks to see him or call him and he stubbornly gives Michael the silent treatment whenever Michael stops by, I see what Mateo does in secret. I know that he lurks around the corner to listen whenever I talk on the phone with Michael. I can see him watch everything that Michael does whenever he's here, whether that's sitting outside on the porch swing with me talking or playing cards with my dad or repairing Abuela's leaky faucet, Mateo studies Michael's every move.

Coaxing Mateo into thawing his attitude has been a gradual and frustrating process. Just when I think we're beginning to make a tiny bit of headway, he goes to stay with his father for three days and, when he comes back, we have to start all over again. I suspect that he is feeding off of Rafael's resentment and taking it on as his own. I've talked to Rafael numerous times this week about the importance of putting on a brave face for Mateo's sake but his response is always the same. It's not my responsibility to make it easier for you and Michael to be together. You wanted this? Live with the consequences.

In theory, he has a point. He's not obligated to help Mateo accept my relationship with Michael. But, as a parent, wouldn't you want your child to be in less turmoil since, this is likely going to be their day to day for many years to come? I think, right now, Rafael is too wrapped up in his own pain to think about the damage he could be doing to Mateo and, perhaps, Mateo's disappointment only makes his own feel more acute.

Right now, father and son are equally tied up in the other's feelings so it becomes difficult to separate who feels what. The only time things are even semi-normal is when Michael isn't around. When it's just the three of us spending time together, Rafael is his usual self and he and I have easy conversation. But whenever Michael is involved, he becomes cold and distant and Mateo is clearly picking up on that change and mimicking it.

After a week of dealing with this nonsense, I've decided to mention my concerns to Michael and get his opinion on the matter. He comes outside to join me on the porch swing after spending a good portion of the afternoon installing a ceiling fan in my bedroom. The AC has already sputtered out twice in the last week and, according to Michael, the unit is in the throes of a death rattle and needs to be replaced. He generously offered to put in a ceiling fan as backup while we wait for the new unit to be delivered. I smile at him when he sits down next to me and lean into his body to rest my head on his shoulder.

"How'd it go?" I ask as I take hold of his hand and link my fingers with his.

"Well, it's up and it comes on when you flip the switch," he replies in a tone that is distinctly lacking confidence, "Hopefully it won't fall on your head in the middle of the night."

"Great."

He laughs and nuzzles a kiss to the top of my head and, for a few seconds, we sit there together in contented silence. "So…" he sighs finally, "What time will Rafael be here with Mateo?"

"In about another hour," I reply. Neither of us sound too overjoyed by the prospect but then neither of us will actually admit that aloud either. "What are we going to do about him, Michael?" I sigh wearily, "We can't go on like this."

"It's only been a week," he reasons, "Give him some more time to come around."

"He's never going to do that. As long as Rafael is resentful and angry then Mateo is going to feed off of that and blame you. It's not fair."

"Well, we can't control how Rafael feels. And, honestly, he's entitled to be angry, Jane. If the shoe were on the other foot, I'd be mad as hell. So, give him some time too."

"And what do we do about Mateo in the meantime?" I lament, "I don't want him to turn into Damien from The Omen."

"I don't think it's quite that bad," Michael laughs, "But I do think it's important to set some boundaries with him. Mateo can't just do and say what he wants because he's angry."

I tip my head back to regard him with a knowing smile. "You think I raised a willful brat, don't you?"

"Yes, I do," he replies with surprising candor, "But he's an adorable 'willful brat' and I love him. We'll get through this, Jane. I promise."

"And in the meantime?" I reiterate glumly.

"In the meantime, I think you, me and Mateo should do something together as a family," he suggests, "I honestly think getting things settled with him will help you get past your writer's block."

By now, my inability to write anything feels like one great, big cosmic joke. I waste hours in front of my laptop just waiting for something to strike me but there's nothing that comes. My mind is too preoccupied with other things. Just when I think my life has settled enough for me to try to write, something else happens. But it's not really the timing even. Lately, I haven't felt all that inspired either. Maybe that's because I feel I haven't gotten control of my own life so tackling my character's fictional baggage seems a little daunting. I tell Michael as much.

"So then we should do something together," he reiterates, "Help you get out of your head for a while."

"We've been doing stuff together this whole week. It's not helping, Michael."

"I mean without Rafael," he clarifies, "Mateo is never going to feel free to warm up to me, if he warms up to me at all, with his father around."

I consider his suggestion. The idea does sound promising, especially because it addresses my problem which is Rafael unduly influencing Mateo. However, it is not without challenges. "Rafael would never go for it," I tell Michael.

"I'm not concerned about Rafael right now," he says, "I want to know what you think."

"I think I'd like to," I admit with restrained excitement, "It would be good for the three of us to do something together…as a family."

Michael's face lights up in a boyish smile. "Good, because I've had a really great idea for what we could do together…"

He's literally wiggling in his seat as he tells me his plan. He wants to take Mateo and me to Legoland and Cypress Gardens, Florida, a virtual wonderland for a six year old boy. It's both a theme park with rides and plenty of Lego related activities and it has an attached waterpark as well. There are several packages for us to choose from but the one Michael liked the best involved staying at the park's resort. We sit together on the porch swing with my laptop perched between us and peruse all the different options.

"Seems like they get booked up pretty fast," Michael remarks, "I see something around the beginning of next month that might work for us but I don't know how long the slot will be available."

I read the over the advertisement. All inclusive with the stay the Legoland Beach Resort or Hotel and we would get second day free tickets to both parks, free breakfast and free shuttle rides to and from the park and off site to pre-approved restaurants. We'd have three days to enjoy the sun and fun without having to deal with the hassle of parking or even navigating our way around the city. It sounds like it will be incredible fun but also incredibly expensive.

"We're looking at almost $1000 for a three night stay, not to mention the cost of food and gas to make the trip," I murmur in disbelief, "I don't have that kind of money right now, Michael."

"Don't worry about the money," he tells me, "The date we're proposing to go is more than six weeks from now. We'll get the money somehow, Jane, even if we have to do it on credit. You know Mateo is going to love this. And, truthfully, I'll love it too. You know what a big kid I am! Let's book it."

I'm not immune to his infectious smile of excitement. "Okay. Book it."

The elation I feel at the prospect of telling Mateo our plans and watching his little face light up with anticipation is nothing compared to when I actually see his reaction. Mateo is so excited that he completely drops his façade of hate with Michael. He sits next to him eagerly, practically bouncing with happiness while Michael scrolls through the website on my laptop and shows him all the different attractions that the park offers. Mateo has a running list, that steadily grows by the second, of all the things he wants to see and ride. Even Rafael is reluctantly on board until he learns that he isn't invited.

"So you're proposing that the three of you go off on this trip alone?" he demands, as if I just told him that Michael and I plan to fly with Mateo to the moon. "Oh no. Absolutely not! I can't agree to that."

"Why can't you?" I exclaim in disbelief, "It's three days!"

"I don't want you taking him out of the city."

I'm so infuriated by his tone and the unspoken implication behind that statement that it takes several attempts to draw enough air into my lungs to even speak. "What did you say?"

"You heard me," he maintains in an even tone, as if I'm a child who needs to be reprimanded. "I don't want you to take him out of Miami. He would be in Michael's care for three days and I'm not sure how I feel about that."

From the corner of my eye, I see Michael roll his eyes in response. I'm doing the same thing internally. "You're kidding!" I snort, "Come on, Raf. Michael would never hurt Mateo."

"I don't know that. You might trust him, Jane, but I don't."

"Shouldn't it be enough that I trust him?" I cry in frustration.

"Actually no. I find your judgment becomes severely impaired when it comes to him. Either I make the trip with you or you don't go at all. Those are my feelings about it."

I'm about to let loose on him right then when I suddenly remember that Mateo is sitting right there on the porch swing, absorbing every word we say like a little sponge. I clamp my mouth shut on the scathing retort that would have sprung free. The last thing I want to do is to fight with Rafael in front of him. He has already had his foundation shaken enough. He doesn't need to have a front row seat to his parents being at each other's throats too.

For that reason, I ask Michael if he will take Mateo into the house so that Rafael and I can carry out our argument in private. He is more than willing to do it, easily sensing my present dilemma. But, as always, Mateo is resistant and refuses to go inside with him.

He stomps his small foot in belligerent protest. "I don't want to go in the house with Michael! You can't make me! I want to stay out here with Daddy!"

I pin him with a stern frown. "Mateo Gloriano Rogelio Solano-Villanueva, I know you heard what I said. Get in the house right now!"

"Don't yell at him!" Rafael interjects hotly, "And don't punish him because he wants to stay out here with me. If he wants to stay then let him stay."

At this point, Michael, who has been relatively silent throughout the entire exchange, finally loses his temper. Probably because Mateo's tendency to be disrespectful to me is a hot button issue for him. It really grates on him and he's let me know that more than once. "Really, Rafael?" he snaps irritably, "You're going to condone his behavior? You're not going to even try to enforce what Jane told him?"

"I've told you before that this is none of business so butt out!"

"Jane asked him to go inside just now and you know why she did it," Michael hisses in an under-breath, "Why are you undermining her authority with him? It's not right!"

Although, I do my best to soothe him during the exchange, stroking his back, his arm, his shoulder, it really doesn't help. Once the words are spoken they can't be unspoken, not that Michael would have been interested in taking them back anyway. Which is somewhat disappointing because I fear that this will degenerate into yet another brutal fight between them but, this time, Mateo will be present to witness it.

Despite my efforts to hold him back, Rafael steps close so that he's in Michael's face and then reaches over to pull Mateo to against him in a show of parental authority. "If my son wants to stay outside with me then he can do that. Because I'm his father and no one is going to come between us. Got that?"

I watch as Michael curls his hand into a tight fist and I flinch inwardly, preparing myself for the worst but, thankfully, it never comes. Instead, a cool head prevails, and Michael takes a step back from Rafael, wisely retreating from the challenge that's been thrown at him. "I don't want to do this in front of Mateo," he says, "So I'm going to go. But you really need to think about what you're doing to your son…and to his mother."

With Rafael's glittering stare burning into my back, I walk Michael to his car. I don't want him to leave. Not at all. But given the volatile circumstances and his and Rafael's equally volatile past, I think it's the best decision. I know that and he knows that. Still, I can't help but wonder if he's upset because I don't ask him to stay. It turns out, however, that Michael isn't thinking about that at all. Instead, he seems worried about me.

"Are you sure you'll be okay with him?" he asks, his forehead furrowed with concern, "Rafael seems like he's in the mood to pick a fight today."

"He is," I acknowledge, "but I'm not going to let him bait me. Besides, I think he'll be easier to deal with once you leave."

After we finish saying our goodbyes, I return to the porch and find Mateo and Rafael seated together in the swing. The moment Mateo spots me, his hackles go up. "Don't you yell at Daddy," he orders me imperiously, "If I don't want to go to Legoland then I don't have to! I won't go if Daddy doesn't go!"

"I'm not going to discuss this with you," I reply as calmly as I can manage, "Go in the house, Mateo."

"But I don't-,"

"I said go. Don't make me tell you again!" There must be something in my expression that warns him not to test me further because he leaps from the swing without another word and darts into the house with a howl of protest. But I can't be concerned about this latest tantrum because I have more pressing matters to address. Once Mateo is safely out of earshot, I turn my wrath on Rafael.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"If you think I'm going to stand by while you try to replace me in Mateo's life, you've miscalculated."

"I'm not trying to replace you, Raf!" I yell in exasperation, "I want to take him to a theme park! I didn't ask you to terminate your parental rights!"

"I'm sure that's next."

"You're being ridiculous."

"Then why don't you want me to go with you?" he charges, "What's up with that?"

"It's an opportunity for Michael and Mateo to bond in a relaxed environment," I say. Without you hovering over them like a dark specter. "This is about them, not you!"

"Mateo doesn't want to 'bond' with Michael," Rafael scoffs, "Stop trying to force that. You love him! That doesn't mean Mateo has to!"

"See, that's the thing," I counter in a thoughtful tone, "I think he does. Mateo loves Michael whether he will admit that or not. The only reason he's pushing him away is because he thinks it will hurt you!"

"If that's what you need to tell yourself."

I have to stamp down the urge to growl in aggravation. "I thought you said that you could accept me and Michael together."

"And I'm trying to do that. I don't have very many options where that's concerned. But Mateo? He is my child and I am not losing another person to Michael Cordero! Be with him if you want but I will be damned if he parents my son!"

He's being irrational right now and overly emotional but I cannot in good conscience say that his feelings are not valid. If the roles were reversed and Rafael had become involved with some woman who felt she had the right to make parenting decisions regarding Mateo, I would be livid. Heads would roll and asses would be kicked, especially Rafael's for condoning such a thing. So I can sympathize with how he must feel. I can understand and accept the resentment he has toward me. There's just one thing…it's not quite the same.

Michael has been in Mateo's life since before he was even born. He rescued Mateo when he was kidnapped. He is my son's godfather, formerly his stepfather. There is a wealth of history there. Before Michael "died," he, Rafael and I were co-parenting Mateo together. Granted, Michael has been MIA for the past five years so many things have changed but the situation between us basically remains the same. Given that, I don't understand why Rafael has such a problem with it now and I say so.

"Because we were supposed to get married this time, Jane!" he cries, "We were supposed to be a family. We were supposed to have more kids, be that biologically or otherwise! This 'family' trip that you're planning with Michael should have been ours! I know you've moved on from that but I haven't."

It hits me then in hindsight. Yes, Rafael said that he would work on accepting my relationship with Michael and yes, he acknowledged that we would all be a family but right now, right this second, he is still struggling. Rafael has yet to let go. It's not wonder he can't accept the idea of Michael parenting Mateo. He can't even come to grips with the fact that he and I are over.

When he finally leaves, I am emotionally and physically spent. I would gladly slink into my room, close the door and hide under my bedcovers for the rest of eternity but that isn't an option. I still have Mateo to deal with. Preparing myself for a fight, I take a deep breath, square my shoulders and head for his room.

I find him sitting in the middle of his floor, playing with a Lego action figure. In an instant, I feel wistful seeing him play make believe, so I simply lean into the doorframe and watch him. He's so engrossed in his playtime that he doesn't even realize I'm standing there until I speak.

"We can still go if you want," I tell him softly.

Unfortunately, the second I say the words he quickly drops the toy and crosses his arms. The expression on his face is mutinous. "I don't want to go," he proclaims, "I don't even like Legos anymore."

"But I just saw you playing."

"I already told you that I don't like them anymore!" he shouts angrily.

And then, for good measure, he picks up the block figurine and throws it against the wall as hard as he can. The pieces splinter apart upon impact and fly into all four corners of his room. I can tell that the instant he does it, he regrets the action because he bites his lower lip to stop it from quivering. Still, he puts up an incredible front of pretending not to care.

I decide to call his bluff. "Well, if that's how you feel…" I say, stooping to collect the scattered Legos, "…I'll just throw this out for you."

I'm not even within a foot of the trash can before he yells, "NO!" and comes running to rescue the pieces from my clutches. I regard him with a deep scowl. "I don't like this behavior, Mateo, and it needs to stop. Right now."

"Well, I don't like your behavior either!" he flings back, "You hurt Daddy's feelings and you didn't say you were sorry!"

The accusation shocks me into silence because it's so full of heartfelt indignance. "Is that what your dad told you?" I ask finally. He jerks a nod. "And that's why you're mad at me right now?" Another nod.

"You and Michael," he stresses angrily, "You lied and you didn't say you were sorry."

I already know why he thinks I've been dishonest but I can't imagine what Michael has done to earn his mistrust. "What did Michael lie about?"

"He told me that he was just your friend," Mateo recounts huffily, "But Daddy says that Michael wanted to marry you the whole time. He tricked me."

When he starts to cry then, at last deflated of anger, I quickly move to pull him into my arms and hold him tight. He doesn't push me away. Instead, he throws his arms around my waist and weeps bitterly into my abdomen. And, in that moment, I see him for what he is. Not a disrespectful, disobedient brat but a confused, scared little boy who feels betrayed by the people he trusted most. I do my best to comfort him.

"That's not what happened, baby," I croon gently, "Michael didn't know he was going to have feelings for me and I didn't know either. It just happened. He didn't trick you. He would never do that. He loves you so much."

He lifts his teary face and looks up at me. I can tell that he wants to believe me. He wants to forgive me and he wants to forgive Michael. But I also know the reason why he can't. He thinks doing so would be disloyalty to his father, especially at a time when he perceives that no one is on Rafael's side. When I ask him if that is how he feels, however, I'm still surprised when he confirms my suspicion.

"He's sad. You broke his heart, Mommy, and he's all alone."

"I know that must hurt, Mateo, and you have to know that I would never want to hurt Daddy like that. I know how it feels to have a broken heart because I had one when Michael was gone."

"I remember," he mumbles sullenly, "You cried a lot and it made me sad too…just like it makes me sad for Daddy."

"I understand. You're a sweet, compassionate little boy. Of course, you would sympathize with your father's pain and you should," I tell him, "But I want you to remember something. Broken hearts don't always stay broken. My heart healed and your daddy's will too."

"Okay," he sniffles but without much conviction.

I crouch down so that we are eye to eye when I say my next words. "Mateo, it's okay for you to feel happy. You can be excited about going to Legoland. That doesn't make you a bad person." I'm silent for a beat before I add, "And it's okay if you like Michael. It's okay if you love him."

"Do you love Michael more than you love me?" he asks me in a suffocated little voice.

For a split second after he asks that question all I can feel is rage. I have never given Mateo the impression that he comes second to Michael. Perhaps, in the beginning, when I had been distracted and distraught after learning Michael was alive but never since then. So I can easily deduce where he might have gotten that idea. But, for the time being, I set aside my anger to give my son the reassurance he needs.

"I do not love Michael more than you. I don't love anyone more than you, Mr. Sweetface."

"But you love him more than Daddy, don't you?"

"No. Not more, Mateo, just differently," I explain carefully, "What I feel for your father and what I feel for Michael are two entirely separate things. They're not the same so you can't compare them."

"Is that because you want to marry Michael?"

"Yes. There are things that I want to have with Michael that I don't want to have with your dad."

"Things like what?"

The question leaves me momentarily speechless as I search for a way to explain the difference between romantic love and familial love to him. Finally, I say, "When I married Michael a long time ago, it was because I wanted to be with him every day. Before Daddy was my best friend, Michael was my best friend and nobody made me as happy as he did…except you, Mr. Sweetface. And that hasn't changed. He still makes me happy and I want to be with him for the rest of my life. He is very important to me and you are very important to me. I want you to get along with each other. So, do you think you could give him a chance? For me? Please."

He doesn't seem especially thrilled by the prospect but he doesn't reject my request either. Instead he replies with a disgruntled, "Okay, Mommy. I'll think about it."

Later that night, after baths have been given, bedtime stories have been read and evening coffee with Abuela is done, I throw on my pajamas and finally crawl into bed, thankful that the day is done. Once I'm settled, I pick up my phone and dial Michael. He answers on the first ring. I smile the instant I hear his voice.

"So how did it go?" he asks in lieu of hello.

"What? You can't say 'hi' first?" I tease him.

"Hi," he says compliantly before veering right back to his original question. "Was Rafael a dick to you?" Though he does his best to sound neutral I can still detect the undercurrent of "I'll kick his ass if he was," beneath his words.

"He was exactly how I expected him to be," I reply with a dismissive air, "But that's not important. I think I might have had a breakthrough with Mateo tonight."

"Oh yeah?"

"He admitted that he's angry with you because he thinks you lied to him about only wanting to be friends with me. He feels like you tricked him."

"I did actually."

The guilt in his voice is palpable and it breaks my heart to hear it. "No, you didn't."

"Does it matter either way? In the end, he still feels like I deceived him and I did tell him that I wouldn't come between you and Rafael."

I frown at the admission. "When did you tell him that?"

"During that camping trip that you and Rafael crashed…you remember, the one from hell," he says, pausing only briefly when I choke out a spurt of laughter in response, "He was worried that you guys might break up because you were fighting and he was confused about why. I told him the truth, that you were fighting because of me."

"Ahh. Now, I see."

"He wanted to know where I stood with you and I told him that all I wanted was friendship, which turned out to be a lie."

"Oh. Well, it's no wonder you told him that. You were working overtime to convince me and yourself that it was the truth. Frankly, you were a real jackass to me back then."

"Thanks."

I giggle at his hilariously derisive tone. "You've improved a lot since then though."

He grunts a short laugh but his good humor feels much too brief because his next words to me sound grim and heavy with resignation. "I suppose I should go ahead and cancel those reservations we made this afternoon," he remarks, "I doubt Rafael is going to get onboard with it and we don't want to aggravate him anymore than he already is."

"Probably not," I agree, "But I still want to go anyway."

I can practically envision him doing a doubletake at his phone and it makes me laugh. "You…you do? Did I just hear you right?"

"Yes. It will be good for us and it will be good for Mateo too. So, keep the reservation, Michael, because we are going on a family vacation whether Rafael is onboard with that or not."