Chapter 6

Steph

I stood on the sidewalk beside my car, looking up at the house that had brought me so much love, acceptance, and joy in the last year. It was lit up, both inside and out, shining bright for the holidays, just the way it had been when Lester first found me in the post office and brought me home to his family to be taken care of. And take care of me, they had. In fact, in the twelve months that had passed, they hadn't stopped taking care of me.

As was apparently the norm when Lester brought home strays, I'd been accepted immediately, and by the end of the evening, I was an honorary member of the Manoso-Santos clan. I thought it had just been a ploy to get me to stop calling Ricardo and Maria Mr. and Mrs. Manoso when they insisted I call them Papa and Mama. That it was just another way for them to ease the weight that discovering Dickie and Joyce had dropped on me, and once I left, that would be the end of it. A spectacular, one night only performance from a kind and generous family, just filling their charity quota for the holiday season. I was sure that once I left that Christmas eve, I'd never see any of them again.

Boy had I been wrong about that.

For starters, Lester and Bobby had let me stay on the flip-out couch in their home office for six weeks while I searched for an apartment, during which time they'd also helped me file for a divorce, clear out my fair share of the shared bank accounts, change all my passwords, retrieve everything I'd left behind in the apartment that first night, and generally helped me get my new, single life together. I couldn't thank them enough for everything they'd done for me.

During the time I'd been staying with them, the invitation had been extended to me to join what I learned were monthly family dinners at Mama Manoso's house. And when I'd moved out in February and missed the March dinner because I figured that since I was no longer staying with Lester, that was the end of it, I'd received a phone call from no less than three members of the family, all of them concerned that I was unwell, or that something had happened to make me miss the gathering. I was so touched and taken aback by Papa Manoso's concern when he called that I burst into tears the second I hung up, which made reassuring Celia and Tia Lili, when they called not long after, a lot more difficult.

If I had missed a dinner for my own family, I would still have received a phone call from my mother, but it wouldn't have been because she was worried about my wellbeing. No, Mom would have called to rip into me for neglecting my familial duties, for embarrassing her with my unexplained absence, for ruining the roast because they'd delayed dinner waiting for my arrival.

The stark difference in approaches simultaneously made me feel loved, and made me re-examine my entire life. I'd always known that I didn't like the way Mom treated me, how she tried to impose her rigid Burg views on every aspect of my life, even when I told her I wasn't interested in her ways. It had only served to irritate her more, and that led to her coming down on me even harder. It was like she didn't think I was capable of living my own life, that every decision I made was wrong, because it wasn't the decisions she would have made. I felt sick with anxiety every time I visited or spoke to Mom.

With the Manosos and Santoses, though, everything was different. They listened to the reasons behind the decisions and events in my life that I shared with them and if they had concerns or advice they wanted to offer, they did so respectfully, reminding me that they were just suggestions, not the law.

I had a feeling Lester and Bobby had shared exactly what my family life was like after the one Plum dinner I'd invited them to join, and the Manoso-Santoses were systematically attempting to repair the damage growing up in that environment had caused by showing me what a supportive family was actually like. When I'd mentioned my theory to Bobby and Reynaldo during May's gathering, though, they'd just smiled, shook their heads, and assured me that that was just how they were.

Honestly, there were times when I thought they were all too good to be true, that they were actually really compassionate androids, set up in the neighbourhood as part of an experiment to see if they could pass for humans. Then things like the argument at June's dinner happened and reassured me that they weren't robots afterall.

I still don't fully understand what exactly the argument was about, partly because much of it had occurred in Spanish, and the explanations given by those not involved went along the lines of "It's a long story…" but the fact that they had explosive moments like that still made me feel a little better about my own family.

As time passed and I grew more comfortable around them, getting to know each Manoso sibling better, I found myself invited to events and activities outside of the monthly family dinners. Drinks with the girls for Serafina's birthday. A trip to Six Flags with Celia and the kids (and Lester, the biggest kid of all) over summer vacation. Elena and Anton's wedding.

I loved them all. But the one member of the family I just couldn't get a bead on was Carlos. Lester informed me that he was a lone wolf type with a hero complex. Mama assured me he'd been prickly ever since puberty. Papa explained that Carlos was the most protective of any of them, and that he believed that the specifics of his military career and some contract he held with the government made it so that being around the people he loved and cared for put them in danger. That was why he arrived early and left before dessert. That was why he limited his questions about people's lives. The less he knew, the less he could accidentally tell an enemy to be used against his loved ones. And not delving into the details of his family's lives made him feel better for the parts of his own that he couldn't share.

When I'd brought up Papa's assessment with Lester and Bobby during a lunch date the following week, they'd confirmed his views to be true and accurate. But I couldn't shift the feeling that I'd done something to offend him. We hadn't exchanged much more than twenty words over the course of the five dinners we'd both been in attendance at, but the way his eyes bored into me anytime we were in the same room sent a tingle of awareness down my spine. And if that wasn't confusing enough, in the rare moments that he did let his guard down and smile or laugh with his family, there was this swirling heat of attraction that poured into my belly. He was a handsome man, no doubt about it, and the more I was around him, the more conflicted I felt.

Was this just my rebellious streak shining through? Carlos saw something in me he didn't like, so I was determined to change his mind? Mom wanted me to find a respectable, Burg man, so I drooled over bad boys? The latter was seventy percent of the reason I'd lusted after Joe Morelli in high school, to the point of allowing him to take my virginity behind the cannoli case at the Tasty Pastry where I worked, so probably, it wasn't a good idea to allow that pattern to perpetuate.

Luckily, I'd been saved from dealing with my conflicting feelings toward the man of mystery for most of the year, as he'd apparently been sent on an extended government mission to save baby llamas from war criminals in West Africa, or whatever the hell Lester meant by 'He's in the wind.' It was all very vague, which made me intensely curious about it. And to top things off, every time I arrived at the Manoso's house and learned that Carlos was still 'out of the country' I was simultaneously relieved that I wouldn't have to put up with the weight of his gaze on me, and disappointed that there would be no opportunities to glimpse the man behind the mask this month.

Which meant that when he emerged from the darkness at the end of the street while I was trying to plaster on a cheery disposition deserving of the celebratory occasion I was about to walk into, and slowed to a stop a few feet away, I just wanted to get back into my car and leave. I couldn't fake a smile all night if he was going to be glaring at me the entire time.

"Steph, are you okay?" he said quietly. The rare, concerned question coming from his lips would have drawn a hundred percent of my attention to him even without the slightly scratchy quality of his voice. My head snapped up as I swallowed back the tears that had been threatening behind my eyes. He looked haggard. Gaunt, almost. Like he hadn't eaten a proper meal in the six months he'd been absent from family dinner. There were faint bruises on his face, the edge of a bandage peeking out from the collar of his jacket, and crutches wedged under his arms to compensate for the cast on his left leg.

"I'm fine," I said quickly, straightening my shoulders, like that was all it would take to convince him it was the truth. "What about you? You look like you've been through the wars."

He looked like he wanted to smile, but thought better of it. "I'm fine also," he said instead. "We better go inside before Mama comes and drags us in by the earlobe."

I just stared. Confused. Carlos was talking to me, like an actual human being. And there wasn't even a hint of the usual glare or curt tone he'd had when I last saw him in May. He just looked tired. Maybe the pain meds he was on for his many injuries had mellowed him.

When I didn't move, he waved a crutch toward the door. "Come on," he said. "No point being sad and frozen." He swung forward on his crutches without another word, and I hurried after him.

He was right, the warm embrace of the house was welcome relief from the cold outside, but did nothing for the despair storming inside me. We stood in the hall removing our coats silently, and he gestured for me to go ahead of him down the hall to the where loud, merry voices were spilling out of the living room.

Marco, seated closest to the door on the loveseat with his girlfriend Opal, beamed and waved when he spotted us. "Merry Christmas, Steph!" he cried jovially. "Merry Christmas, Car-"

That's all I heard before I had to make a dash for the bathroom. The tears I'd tried so valiantly to shove down deep inside before Carlos had interrupted my pity party outside welled up, and I couldn't let them see me cry. Not at Christmas. It was supposed to be a happy time of year. I couldn't ruin it for them. Not when they'd all been so worried about Carlos for months on end and he was finally back. They deserved to cherish the happy moment of reunion, not watch me wallow in sadness.

Voices erupted in my wake. I was aware of this. The angry yelling reached me over the rushing in my ears as I closed myself in the small, downstairs bathroom and plonked myself down on the lid of the toilet, unrolling a wad of toilet paper to blot at the tears streaming down my face. I hated crying.. The only things I hated more than crying, were crying with make up on, and crying in front of people. I couldn't help the first one right now, but at least I'd managed to lock myself away to avoid the second. The day had already been one blow after another, I didn't need the Manosos and Santoses to see snot streaming from my nose.

I was holding the wad of paper to my face, trying to block out the noise outside my little sanctuary at the same time I tried to prevent my mascara from running when there was a soft knock on the door, followed by Lester's voice calling my name.

"I'll be out in a minute," I said, grimacing at how thick my voice sounded.

"You don't have to come out," he said through the door. "I just needed to check that you were all right."

"I'm fine."

He chuckled. "Oh yeah, I always run off crying when someone wishes me Merry Christmas," he joked.

I choked out a laugh despite myself. I suppose she had a point there. It was a little ridiculous to cry at the greeting. But… I sighed, heaved myself to my feet and unlocked the door, inching it open. The yelling match from the living room got louder without the barrier between me and it, but I tried to ignore it, focusing on Lester instead. He had one shoulder leaned against the door jam, head resting against it as well, and his face lit up in that familiar smile when he saw me.

"Hey, Beautiful," he said. "Fancy meeting you here."

"I got laid off today," I said, with no preamble. It was supposed to hurt less if you just ripped the bandaid off, right?

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Today?" he asked. "As in Christmas Eve? They sacked you the day before christmas?"

I nodded, my lower lip trembling as all the uncertainties for the future crashed in on me anew. "I didn't… I didn't want to ruin the night for everyone by being sad, so I was going to say anything until after New Years, but then Marco was… and I couldn't hold it in anymore."

"Oh, honey," Lester breathed, wrapping his arms around me and smoothly guiding us back into the bathroom and closing the door to block out the din. "Hey, it's gonna be okay," he soothed, rubbing my back as I sobbed into his shoulder. "And you never need to hide how you're feeling here. We're your family, remember? We're here to support you whenever you need, and if that need happens to be on Christmas eve, then you should feel comfortable letting us know what's going on in your life. I mean, look at last year!"

"I know," I mumbled. "I just… You've all done so much for me already, and I wanted to make sure everyone was happy for Christmas."

"Everyone except you?" he asked, leaning back a bit and lifting my chin so he could see my face. "Steph, come on." He held my gaze for what felt like an eternity, trying to make me realise how stupid I was being, but it was probably only a few seconds. I didn't need a lot of convincing when it came to my own stupidity. "Alright," he said eventually. "You've stopped crying, you've been reminded that family supports family, and the yelling has stopped in the living room. Let's wipe off this smudged mascara and go see what the hell Marco and Carlos are at loggerheads about so soon after Carlos's return."

I did as he said, blowing my nose and salvaging my makeup as best I could, then we made our way back out to the living room in time to hear Elena cry, "Madre de dios! This is just like the time you broke Marco's arm because you thought he ate all the cookies!"