These events take place in parallel to chapters 46 and 49 of the Berry-Lopez and Fabray Sagas
(Shelby)
Incredibly, I've never travelled abroad before. I mean, I went to Canada once for Les Mis National Tour when I was part of the cast of the play that travelled around the country for six months. One of the dates was in Toronto, which borders New York State. Honestly, everything there is so similar to the United States that it didn't make any difference, I didn't feel any cultural impact at all. Spain was another story, and I can't believe how incredible it is to visit that city with my family.
"Mama! Look!" Beth caught my eye as she pointed to a man dressed as a character from a cartoon she loved.
"That's right, sweetie, look at Pocoyo."
Santana looked back and frowned, then continued talking to Juan. They walked a little further on as we headed towards the Sagrada Familia Basilica. Honestly, I was exhausted from walking around the city. Even though we'd rented a stroller to make it easier for us to get around Barcelona with Beth, I was exhausted by the amount of days we'd spent on the road. Apart from the afternoon we spent in the hotel the day before we left Madrid for Barcelona, we didn't stop doing things around the city. We saw all the city's famous sights, tried the typical food, went to a soccer match and even went to the theater to see a flamenco dance show. It was incredible, but very tiring at the same time.
Santana had been a bit depressed over those days, but the drink she took that afternoon at the hotel at least helped her to vent about the issues she was facing regarding college. Frankly, I was flattered to learn that the conflict plaguing my firstborn daughter was the fact that she didn't want to go to Harvard, but to Columbia. Not in my most optimistic dreams did I think that a person with half my genes, and who came out of me, could be so intelligent and, at the same time, still be an incredibly normal girl. Santana was beautiful and had a similar personality to me, with the big and significant difference that she had a happy childhood. If there's one thing I'll be eternally grateful to Hiram for, it's this: as much as he was an asshole to Juan at the end of their marriage, and as much as he threatened me, Hiram was an almost perfect father to Santana and Rachel.
It was fascinating to observe the differences between my three daughters. Beth was a curious and attentive child, but very sweet. Rachel... oh my God, it was my daughter who worried me the most. I had no doubts about Rachel's talent and ability as an actress, especially in musical theater. Rachel was still no Patti Lupone or Meryl Streep, but she was very competent even at such a young age. In a way, I was a little envious of Rachel because she was much better than I ever thought I could be. Her career was a certainty, while mine, although I did make it to Broadway, never managed to be anything more than a swing, ensemble and u/s in the cast of companies. Apart from our shared passion for theater and music, and our physical resemblance, the truth is that Rachel and I had very different personalities. While Rachel was almost obsessively focused on her goals, self-centered and perfectionist, she was also terribly insecure, almost desperate for acceptance and validation. Of course, we're all a bit like that, but it's just that Rachel's insecurities seem to be a notch above the ordinary.
To top it off, it was very uncomfortable that Rachel was not only dating, but living under the same roof with Beth's biological mother. As much as Quinn and I had established very clear rules when it came to Beth, and she had honored them so far, it never stopped being uncomfortable for me to see her around all the time. I couldn't say this to the girls, but I think this trip to Spain would have been much better without Quinn being here.
"Shelby." Juan stopped for a few seconds so that Beth and I could catch up. He took over guiding Beth's stroller, leaving me free for a moment. "Santana suggested we leave the park for later, and get something to eat instead."
"Later?"
"Shelby, in all honesty, I can't feel my feet anymore from all the walking." Santana clearly wasn't as enthusiastic about getting to know the city with us.
"Does this have to do with the fact that you met a certain boy?" I stared at my daughter, who rolled her eyes.
"That too... in part."
"in part? Didn't you have a boyfriend?"
"Shelby..."
Juan smiled and hugged me from the side. My boyfriend told me that he had long since given up trying to understand Rachel and Santana's love choices. I think I should follow his advice more closely.
"We can take advantage of that. How about afterwards we go back to the apartment, have a shower, rest and then we can go out for dinner? Just the two of us?"
I stared at my boyfriend and then at my daughters. Beth obviously didn't understand what was going on. Santana, on the other hand, frowned and crossed her arms.
"A well behaved dinner, okay? Don't forget that mine and Beth's room is immediately next to yours. Then... yuck! No such plan... it's dinner and sleep watching TV for you two..."
If this girl knew how she was made, her head would explode.
Anyway, after seeing Barcelona's most famous cathedral and Sant Pau, we had a snack on the street and went back to the apartment Juan had rented from a colleague of his. One good thing about this medical community is that those who are successful are really well off. Juan was no millionaire, but he had enough financial comfort to pay for his and the girls' health insurance, pay for Rachel's college, help the girls stay in New York, pay for all the household expenses and still be able to saving some money so that he could travel abroad once a year. Juan obviously worked very hard for it, and according to what I heard from his colleagues, especially Alicia, he really was a distinguished surgeon. When I met him just over 18 years ago, I already knew how dedicated he was to being a good surgeon. I would never have imagined that he would become a reference among his colleagues.
The apartment we stayed in was huge, close to the beach and also a block with lots of restaurants, where cars were banned there. Madrid was great and huge, but I thought Barcelona was much more charming. When we went upstairs to rest, Quinn and Rachel weren't around.
Juan took a shower, while Santana went to find that boy she'd met. I went to look after Beth and feed my daughter the fruit porridge she loved. When Quinn and Rachel were back home, Juan went to talk to our daughter while Quinn, Beth and I sat on the balcony watching the movement of the city.
"Do you know what I miss?" I said casually to Quinn.
"What?"
"Coming home after a busy day and having a cigarette. Maybe some marijuana."
"I didn't know you were a smoker." Quinn raised a single eyebrow as she sat on the floor with Beth.
"I've never been a regular smoker, but sometimes, yes, a cigarette would be nice. It was therapeutic when I lived in New York after a stressful day. Except that Juan hates smokers, and there's Beth. I believe that smoking around children is disrespectful. I stopped smoking when I got pregnant with the twins and then stopped again after I adopted Beth and started my relationship with Juan. But yes... sometimes I miss it."
"My parents are smokers, and I even liked the smell of the cigars my father smoked, but cigarettes never appealed to me. Besides, Rachel is just like her father."
"You've never tried smoking?"
"Once... my sister became a smoker and at the time she stole my mother's cigarettes. She offered me a cigarette once and taught me how to smoke. But I never took it any further, it didn't appeal to me."
"Good for you." I looked at the landscape once more. It was difficult for me to strike up a conversation with Quinn on deeper subjects. I would never make any meaningful confidences to her. I wouldn't share my insecurities about Beth with her. Nor would I ask her about her relationship with my daughter.
"Mom!" Rachel called out as she headed for the balcony.
"What's wrong, kiddo?"
"Quinn and I are going to babysit Beth for the day, don't worry."
"What?"
"Your romantic dinner with Papi tonight." She told me as if I knew something.
"Oh yes..." I forced a smile. I really didn't know that Juan would take the suggestion he made during our walk seriously. Not that I was against a romantic dinner.
Juan seemed excited and a little anxious about our dinner. As it was getting late, I decided I'd better start getting ready. I packed two fine dresses for this travel. One of them was dirty, because I'd worn it twice in Madrid, and we hadn't stopped for a day to use the laundry (using the hotel laundry service in Madrid was absurdly expensive). The dark green dress was chosen for lack of choice. I brushed my hair, applied light make-up and a good red lipstick so as not to look washed out.
Juan didn't need to do much to look good and well-groomed, and I envied the men because of that. He simply put on pants, a shirt and a jacket. He combed his hair, brushed his teeth and didn't even bother to shave. I liked it better when he shaved, because it made him look younger and lighter. But he was handsome anyway.
"Wow... what an attractive couple!" Rachel joked with us when she saw us leaving. "You young people have fun, but be responsible, see?" Rachel patted her father on the back and smiled.
"Okay, don't forget that Beth's dinner is in the fridge. Just warm it up a bit, and don't forget to give her bedtime milk and put on her diaper." I made my recommendations.
"Yes, ma'am." Rachel winked at me.
I was managing to get Beth out of her diaper during the day. It was a struggle to get her to ask to go to the toilet and use the potty. She was learning and accidents were rarer. However, I still hadn't managed to succeed at night, and she still had to put a diaper to sleep so as not to wet the bed.
Anyway, Juan and I walked to the street with various restaurants. We walked hand in hand, like good lovers, without talking about the kids or work. We just chatted trivia and recapped funny things that had happened on our trip. The restaurant Juan chose had live music, but it wasn't frequented by teenagers, thank god. We chose a more reserved table and ordered a delicious wine that the locals called cava.
"The menu looks great." Juan commented.
"I'm going to have to pay for a gym membership to lose all the extra pounds I gained on this trip."
"Nonsense! You look perfect."
"Juan, you go jogging and do abdominal exercises almost every day, even here in Spain. Are you telling me that you want to see me standing still, getting fatter and more hideous?"
"That's not it." He smiled. "I'm just saying that you look perfect. You are perfect." I loved it when Juan wanted to flatter me.
"I like it when you woo me, but I'm definitely going to look for a gym."
"Well, we can start with alternative and more fun exercises."
I looked at Juan, who was making the irresistible face, implying that our night could be incredible. Sure, our love making used to be great, but when he decided to do extra exercises, my God! I was in heaven.
"The kids are home." I said just to tease him.
"Beth sleeps very well, especially after a busy day... and the other two have headphones." Juan said in an amused tone. "We can even do a warm-up here and now."
I almost choked on my wine, or rather cava, just imagining Juan and I having a quickie in a public place. I mean, we did it once when we went out to Dayton to see a play. He fucked me in the parking lot.
"Juan..." I was cautious.
"I was talking about dancing."
Oh my God, I've never had a boyfriend in my life who liked to dance. I don't know if Juan's past with a gay man influenced this, but I didn't complain about the fact that he liked to move his body and have fun. All I knew was that our bodies moved very well together, both on the dance floor and in more intimate places. Juan, and this was certainly due to the fact that he had been in a gay relationship for years, was even open to me wearing a strap-on from time to time. I didn't even want to think about it because I could get wet before long just thinking about the feeling of power that gave me.
We were definitely having fun. Traveling with the girls was good for our relationship as a family, but I confess that these moments alone with Juan were another story. We didn't even eat in that restaurant. We just danced and drank cavas.
"We need to put something in our bellies or we're going to have a really bad hangover tomorrow." Juan said as soon as we left the restaurant.
"I agree."
In that bohemian area, we pulled up to a food truck and ordered a pork sandwich and a coke. We took our food and sat facing each other on the bench in the square, enjoying the food, which was indeed tasty.
"We should do things like this more often." I said, finishing my sandwich.
"Are you cold?" He asked when he saw me shrink a little because of the cool early morning breeze that came through, despite the mild summer night.
"It was just a breeze."
Juan did what is expected of any man with the slightest bit of chivalry. He took off his jacket and put it around my shoulders. We disposed of our garbage and walked hand in hand towards the beachfront, which in summer, especially on weekdays, was busy because of the presence of tourists and the many restaurants there.
"I can't believe we're leaving in just three days." I grumbled.
"This won't be the last time we have trips like this, Shel."
"God, I hope so."
"Yes, we could make that promise in front of him."
"What are you talking about?" We stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, among people walking back and forth. All we could hear was the sound of muffled music coming from the waterfront restaurants mixed with the sound of the waves of the Mediterranean Sea.
"Well... Excuse me just a little bit." Juan opened the jacket I was wearing and took out of the inside pocket a small, flat box, which I swore was his wallet. Then he stood facing me and opened the box, revealing a beautiful, albeit very discreet ring with a diamond stone. "Shelby Corcoran, would you marry me?"
I was so shocked and surprised that this request had come out of the blue after the night we'd had, that I had a panic attack. Practically the same kind of panic attack I had when I saw my daughters together, talking to me for the first time, in the auditorium in Carmel two years ago. Seeing that I didn't react, and frankly I had nowhere else to run, Juan closed the box with the ring. Even with my panic attack, I could see that he was disappointed by my reaction.
"Well, you don't have to answer right now. I know you're surprised."
"I... I... I just want to go home."
"Okay... let's go back to the apartment."
The walk back was made in an uncomfortable and deafening silence.
...
I could hardly sleep that night. Juan simply took off his clothes, lay down on the bed with his back to me and stayed that way until the early morning, when he got up and went for a run on the beach. As soon as he was gone, I sneaked into the room Santana was sharing with Beth. I found a lovely scene, of my eldest daughter sleeping with my youngest. Santana was curled up, almost falling out of bed, giving Beth all the space she needed to sleep with her arms open. I closed the door slowly and went into the kitchen to prepare Beth's morning meal: a bottle of powdered milk and a piece of fruit. Sometimes Beth liked to eat a piece of bread. Quinn was the first to get up among the girls, and we bumped into each other in the kitchen.
"Good morning." I said seriously.
"Good morning." She gave me a small smile. "How was dinner last night?"
"Perfect." I didn't want to talk about it, least of all with Quinn Fabray. "Quinn, could you do me a favor? Could you take care of Beth's breakfast? It's all set. The milk and fruit. Can you just have to take off her diaper and give her a quick shower, just to clean her bottom, and give her breakfast? If you're not comfortable changing diapers, ask Santana. She knows how to do it very well."
"Sure. I'd be delighted."
I nodded and quickly changed my clothes: I practically grabbed the first one I saw that wasn't pajamas or the dress from the night before. I sent a message to Juan's cell phone and left the apartment, heading for the beach. There, I sat down on one of the benches and watched the movement of people who, like Juan, liked to get up early to exercise.
"Shel!" I heard Juan calling me. I made no mention of getting up, so Juan sat down next to me.
"It's been quite a night!" I said without much humor.
"Yes, it was perfect up to a point." He said without looking at me. "Not that I want to pressure you, Shel, but I'd really like to hear an answer."
"I don't know if it's the right time for that, Juan."
"For the answer or for the wedding?"
"I don't think it's the right time for us to get married."
"What do you mean? Shelby..." Juan took my hand. "I don't see what the problem is. We don't have any obstacles, we love each other... we have daughters... and frankly, we're not young enough to see our relationship as a fling or an adventure. That's not how I feel about you. I've been in love with you for damn 18 years!"
"Juan, I love you too. There's no doubt about that."
"But?"
"But I'm going to accept the offer OSU has made me. I want to move to Columbus and have new professional experiences. I can't do that in Lima with you. I can't live in a long-distance relationship."
"Why not? We went through it at the beginning and it worked out! Then we don't have to get married next week or next month. I just wanted to make it clear that I'm willing to make this commitment to you, to spend the rest of my life with you."
"But what about Beth?"
"Do you think Beth is out of the picture? I raised our two daughters and I want to help you raise Beth. I love Beth too, Shel, and I'm going to do everything I can to make sure she grows up happy and well."
"Beth is not your responsibility."
"Beth calls me papi... and I really like that little girl."
"In the same way as Santana and Rachel?"
"That's not fair."
"I don't know, Juan. I can't accept your proposal as long as I think there's any trace of doubt about us and especially about Beth."
"That's bullshit, Shel, and you know it. You've had such a frustrating life that you seem afraid of change."
"The last thing I'm afraid of is change, Juan."
"I'm not talking about changing cities or jobs. You're so afraid of being happy, of being fulfilled, that you run away and self-sabotage."
"Have you been talking to my psychologist by any chance?"
"You don't need psychology 101 to see the obvious."
"Fuck you, Juan."
At that point, we were shouting at each other, drawing the attention of anyone passing by. Juan got up and walked to the sea, while I stayed on that bench, as if a glue had stuck me there. I simply couldn't move. I don't know how long I spent there either, motionless and crying on that bench while Juan stood there at the edge of the sea. A woman stood in front of me, looking at me with pity.
"Tot està bé?"
"Ah... Sí, estoy bien... I just broke up with my boyfriend... I think."
"Oh, I... I'm sorry." The girl said, struggling to speak English.
"I'm fine. It will pass. Thank you."
The woman nodded and left, more or less coinciding with Juan's return. He sat down next to me, stared at his hands and said in a low voice.
"I don't want to spoil the girls' vacation. It would be nice if it was just between us."
"I agree."
"And when we get to Lima... well, do whatever you want. I can find some acquaintances to help you find a house in Columbus."
"Are you breaking up with me? For real?"
"You don't want a commitment with me, Shel. What else is there to do?"
"You're being childish and immature."
"Maybe. Maybe I'm not coping well with this rejection. But that doesn't change the fact that you said no, and that you prefer a job where you'll earn half as much as your job in Carmel, just because you want a new experience. I'm sorry Shelby, I love you deeply, but you chose your new experience over me."
"You're not being fair."
"Right now, I don't care. Just… don't say anything to the girls."
Juan got up and left me standing there alone.
...
(Juan)
"A what?"
"A special therapeutic massage parlor." Gus replied with a cheeky grin.
We were at the bar in Lima. I would be spending the next 48 days off from the hospital and, frankly, I didn't feel like leaving my work. However, Gus badgered me to leave my place and go to the bar with him. I thought I was just going to have a beer and come back, but you could never be sure what Gus had in mind. The first thing he did when he saw me in the bar was to say hello and give me the card for this special therapeutic massage parlor. Knowing my friend, I was absolutely certain that this place didn't offer the kind of therapeutic massages I'd booked for my daughters. Not at all. I looked at the card, which had nothing unusual about it. It was a very discreet business card, with the logo of the place, telephone numbers and address. Even so, I knew very well, I could feel it in Gus's smile, that this place wasn't for under-18s.
"Gus, I'm not into sex workers, okay? That's not my style."
"Juan, pay attention. How long have I known you? About 40 years? Do you think I'd recommend a place with sex workers to you? This place is serious and very professional, the difference is that they also book massages... you know where... I swear to you, there's no sex... there's no woman who's going to spread her legs or suck you off. It's just a massage. Even women go there to do those tantric things. It's all done by trained professionals. You can even ask a guy to do the massage if you think it's better."
"Gus, that's not for me."
"Juan, you know me. I use Tinder, man! This place is another story. It's for relaxing. And you'll agree that you really need it. Ever since Shelby kicked your ass, you've been like a zombie. You're all work and no play."
"Shelby didn't kick my ass…"
"No... she just moved to another town to get away from you."
"You're an idiot."
"An idiot who speaks the truth and who is right. I know you're not looking for anyone, but you definitely need to relax. If I were you, I'd book a tantric massage plus session. That's what they call it, you know? Because the pay a special attention on your appendix. And it is incredible! You have to try it."
Maybe Gus was right about me. Ever since Shelby moved out with Beth, it feels like I'm living in a mausoleum. It's painful to be alone in that house. My daughters are in New York getting on with their lives. Sometimes it's hard to believe that Santana is actually studying in an Iny League College and that mi estrellita is fulfilling her dream. Hiram said that he raised our daughters for the world, and so did I, but in that sense I've always been a bit of an anchor. I was always the one who had trouble letting them leave the nest, yet they left a year earlier than they should have. I thought I would have a new chapter with Shelby and little Beth. But that too was shipwrecked, literally, in the seas off Spain.
I didn't feel like going into the house. It looked like a haunted place. The girls' room seemed more like a museum of their childhood and teenage years. And there was Hiram's ghost hanging around. He must have been laughing at me, rejoicing that Shelby had left me. Then people ask me why I preferred to sleep in hospital rather than at home. At the hospital, at least I had my team to manage, my residents to teach, my surgeries to perform. The only person who was free to discuss anything of a private and personal nature with me was Alicia: everyone else was basically limited to hospital talk. That's glorious these days.
Gus and I had a few beers and talked trivia, like the Buckeyes' season. My university team had a good start to the season, and people were optimistic. Before leaving, I looked at the walls of the bar. There was literally a picture of me, dressed in my high school uniform, holding the state championship cup. Not that I was a celebrity in that town, but Gary, the owner of the bar, was a football fanatic, and the wall of his bar was a kind of local hall of fame. Gus also had a photo on the wall with our champion team, but not an individual photo like mine, which made him jealous, since he was the real regular in that bar. I looked at my picture… god, I was so young, so full of expectative. And now I'm just a loner, a poor being without my kids and without the woman I loved.
When I got home, I was faced with more loneliness. I looked at the card Gus had given me and thought: why not? What would I have to lose?
...
I was a bit anxious. It seemed crazy that I had accepted a suggestion from Gus. Whose suggestion? The house was in fact in the opposite side of the street where works a small shopping center in Lima. There was nothing but a small layout on the house indicating that it was a commercial establishment. The entrance was very professional. There was a counter at which a woman in her 50s greeted customers. She was wearing her uniform, which looked very professional indeed. In the room, you could see all the types of therapeutic massages on offer and the prices. There were eight types of therapeutic massage offered at the house: Thai, Swedish, shiatsu... and tantric massage was the most expensive one. The "plus" type was not on the list, but I paid 50 dollars more for it.
"Good afternoon. I'm Juan Lopez and I have an appointment for 4pm."
The woman smiled and checked the appointment on the computer, but not before asking a potential client to wait a moment before receiving the desired information. I paid for the massage session, but first I had to fill in a one-page form, front and back, saying general things about myself, the reasons I was looking for the place, through what means I got to know the place and, it was strange, but it made some sense, my sexual preferences. Not directly, they didn't ask if I was gay, bi or heterosexual, but rather if I preferred to be attended by a female masseuse, a male masseuse, or if the sex of the attendant wasn't important. Well, I replied that the sex of the attendant didn't matter.
After filling in and signing the form containing the clinic's rules, a second employee, also in uniform, led me to the men's changing room and offered me a sanitized white bathrobe.
"Take off all your clothes, you can put them in any locker with a key inside, and wait to be called. At the end of the session, clients are allowed to shower to remove the oil from their bodies, if they wish. Just ask for the bath kit." The bath kit was a small hotel soap and a towel.
There were two women waiting in the second room. I was a little disconcerted, but I sat down in one of the available chairs and waited. The first woman was called in the next minute and then the second woman was also called in by the masseur who would be doing the work. They were all in uniform and everything looked very professional. Gus was right when he said the place was really nice and that was a first.
"Mr. Lopez?"
I heard a young woman call out to me. She was blonde, slim, pretty I think, although she didn't attract me at that moment. I stood up and introduced myself.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Lopez. My name is Tracy and I'll be your masseur today. You can follow me."
I stood up as if I were a frightened teenager. Tracy led me into a small room, nicely decorated with oriental ornaments. There was ambient music for relaxation and meditation. She said I could hang the key to the locker where I put my clothes on a hook on the wall, and asked me to take off my robe and lie down on the stretcher on my stomach.
"Is this your first time having a tantric massage?" Tracy asked, showing a strange sweetness and understanding.
"Yes. I've never done anything other than these sports massages." Yes, and I remember Mr. Thomas who had rather rough hands when I played for the Buckeyes. Post-game therapy or after a hard training session involved Mr. Thomas' hands and a tub full of ice.
"Well, it's clear that you're a very active man, who exercises."
"Yes, that's important to keep fit. My job requires some physical stamina."
"What do you do for a living?"
"I'm a doctor."
"Really? And your job requires physical stamina? Because I've seen some fat doctors around."
"Unfortunately, some doctors are do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do type. Medicine always recommends exercise, so we need to be the first to follow our own advice."
"Makes sense."
Tracy put a towel over my ass and started massaging my neck and back. She poured in an oil that smelled really good and started massaging. I have to say I was surprised, because despite her apparent fragility, Tracy's hands were very strong and at the same time super delicate. She massaged my back and legs, and I confess that I would have been very pleased if she had stopped there. I was feeling great. Until she asked me to lie on my back. And this time there was no towel covering my crotch. She massaged my chest, my abdomen and finally she touched me right there. The house rule was that the masseur would do all the work, but the client was strictly forbidden to touch the masseur, with the punishment of having the session terminated and the client banned. It was a wise and fair policy, because some guys could easily want to break this rule and put the pros at risk. All because that shit was so good!
"You don't have to hold back." Tracy told me as she massaged my penis. "You can be vocal if you want. And you don't need to hold your ejaculation on. Just try to breathe deeply and let it go."
I know my hand, I've won great hand jobs from a few people, including, of course, Hiram and Shelby. But what Tracy did to me was on another level. I had to give it to Gus, because that tantric massage plus thing was really spectacular. I ejaculated so hard that I thought I was going to pass out. Tracy finished the job by resting my penis against my abdomen and left, leaving me lying there, naked and exposed, for about five minutes. I think I slept for those five minutes, and the truth was that I felt absurdly relaxed.
…
I don't know if I was becoming a fan of the type of massage or the masseur. But I do know that the third time I went to Tracy's work place to have this kind of massage, I asked her to go out with me on a date, and she accepted it.