June 30, 2016

The summer weather was perfect as I drove through northern New Jersey towards Manhattan, which naturally meant traffic was a nightmare. Tonight was the dinner where I would once again try to win the security contract with the Huntwell Medical System. Even though I had developed a contract this time around that would be more attractive to them and had many more years of professional experience to draw from to aid in the discussion, my best asset this evening was Julio. A second chance at life hadn't made my social skills much better, and I suspected they had been the reason I'd lost the contract the first time. Julio was charming and people were comfortable around him. He was a medical professional and could relate to the doctors in a way I couldn't. The fact that he looked sexy as hell in his Ralph Lauren suit didn't hurt either.

"What the fuck does prix fixe mean?" Julio asked as we drove through the Lincoln Tunnel.

"It means you pay a set price per person for the meal," I replied. "This place has either a four-course or an eight-course meal."

"Eight courses?"

"They're small portions."

He looked back down at his phone and swiped up and down. "Where's the rest of the menu?"

"There isn't one. Prix fixe means you pay a set price for whatever they're serving that night. You just choose how many courses you want."

Julio looked puzzled. "So when it says two hundred and fifty dollars per person for the eight-course meal, that means we're paying two hundred and fifty dollars for each of us to eat whatever the hell the chef decided sounds good tonight?"

"That's it."

"I'm not sophisticated enough for this shit," he muttered.

"Babe, you'll be great. Just relax and be yourself."

"Yeah? Well, myself isn't the kind of guy who normally wears a thousand-dollar suit while eating at a restaurant where they charge two hundred and fifty dollars to tell you what you're gonna eat while my husband negotiates a multi-million-dollar business deal. What if I fuck it up?"

When I had to stop at a light, I leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You can't do anything wrong at this dinner. I didn't get this contract last time, so even if you decide to get up on the table and start stripping during the fourth course, you can't fuck it up," I assured him as I pulled forward in traffic. "In fact that might be what I was missing last time and could be just the thing that wins me the deal after all."

Julio snorted and shook his head. "Well, if it'll get you the deal, then I'll do it. Just promise to post bail as soon as you can."

"That's my boy."

The CEOs of Huntwell Medical System were Dr. Melinda Huntwell and her husband, Dr. Theodore Campbell. Dr. Huntwell's father, McCarthy Huntwell III, had founded the company in the 1970s and had expanded from a small group of medical practices to one of the largest privately-owned medical companies in the country. The contract was to provide security services to their twelve hospitals across New Jersey, New York, and Pennsylvania, and while most of my competitors had focused more on the price tag, I was focused on the quality of the service.

The doctors had just arrived themselves when we stepped off the elevator on the fifteenth floor. Melinda Huntwell was barely five feet tall with short blonde hair and green eyes. Theodore Campbell had graying brown hair and stood equal to Julio's six-foot-two-inches, which meant he towered over his petite wife.

"Thank God you're here," Theo said when he saw me. "They won't seat us until everyone in the party arrives and Melinda hates that. She always argues with them."

"Because it's ridiculous," Melinda replied. "It's not like we are expecting a group of twelve and risk being the only two here. And they don't even have two person tables, so we would have to sit at a four-person table anyway."

"Glad we can help," I said. "This is my husband, Julio."

Everyone introduced themselves and a moment later we were being escorted to our table. Zephyr had two-Michelin stars and a world-famous chef in the kitchen. The dark gray walls were covered in colorful abstract art, the black carpet had a silver geometric design, and cascading chandeliers provided a surprising amount of light around the dark room. Each table had a candle flickering away in a crystal holder and an ivory-colored bench curved around one side of the table while two matching chairs sat on the opposite side.

"Feel free to take the bench," Melinda said as her husband pulled out one of the chairs. "My feet don't reach the floor when I sit on those."

We listened to the menu for the evening while our water glasses were filled and a loaf of soft bread and garlic and herb butter was placed between us on our table. We were also presented with the wine list and recommendations were made on which would pair best with the meal.

"We don't drink, but feel free to order wine for yourselves," Melinda told us as the server held out the wine list.

"Neither do we," I replied, and the server took away the wine glasses before leaving. I saw Melinda relax a little and a memory of our dinner in my last life came back to me. I had ordered wine with my meal and despite her assurances that I should get it if I wanted, she hadn't seemed happy about it. I saw her glance over at Theo who gave her an amused eye roll and a small shake of his head.

"I'm a recovering alcoholic," Theo informed us once the server was out of earshot. "I've been sober for fifteen years, but she still hates when I have to be around alcohol."

"Me too," Julio said, seeming surprised that this wealthy, highly-educated man could share the same addiction. "I was sober for nine years, but relapsed back in February after my grandfather died. I'm coming up on three months sober. He also hates it when I have to be around alcohol, though he has pretty good reason to be these days," he continued, nodding his head in my direction.

Theo gave him a sympathetic nod. "I've relapsed twice over the last thirty-one years. It happens, unfortunately. But you learn from it, and it helps push you forward again."

The conversation had barely lasted more than a minute, but I saw a shift in Melinda Huntwell. She was more relaxed and seemed intrigued by us. I had suspected Julio would be helpful this evening; I just hadn't expected his alcoholism to be part of it.

"We've gotten the chance to know Carlos a little, but tell us about yourself, Julio," Melinda said as we buttered slices of bread. "Do you work with Carlos?"

Julio clearly hadn't expected to be asked about himself and was caught off-guard for a moment. "Oh, um, no. I'm a physical therapy assistant, but I'm not working right now. We weren't planning for me to move up to New Jersey until July because he was busy going between offices, but after his accident in April I came up early. He can finally drive again and we just got moved into our new house, so I can try to get back to work."

"I'd love for him to work with me," I chimed in. "But he seems to think I'm a control freak and that for the sake of our marriage we shouldn't work together."

Melinda and Theo laughed. "We understand that completely," Theo said. "It isn't always easy to work together all day and then come home and have to be around each other all night. We've had quite a few days where we had to purposely ignore each other so we didn't end up on the news."

"How did you two meet?" Melinda asked as she took a sip of water, her eyes flitting back and forth between us.

"In high school," Julio said after swallowing a bite of bread. "We both got in trouble back home, so we got sent to live with relatives in Miami. We met our second day of freshman year. His cousin invited me to sit with them at lunch."

"Have you been together ever since then?" Theo asked.

"God, no," Julio said with a laugh. "I was in love with him from the beginning, but he took a lot longer."

I watched Julio as he told them about our past over the first course of French onion tartlet. His initial nerves were gone, and he seemed perfectly at ease telling them about our relationship. He wasn't afraid to talk about his long-held feelings for me or my struggles to accept my own. He smiled as he recalled seeing each other again for the first time after our four-year estrangement, and how he'd been dying inside thinking we'd never be together, but that he knew he couldn't walk away again.

Stephanie had accompanied me to a few dinners like this, and even after we were officially together, she had always seemed nervous—almost embarrassed—to admit how we met and got together. She would drink a little too much wine and nervously ramble about learning to be a bounty hunter and how mysterious I had always been until one day I had surprised her by telling her I wanted to be together. Clients had always found her endearing, and I'd always been amused by her nerves. But now I was watching Julio talk about our relationship without a shred of embarrassment and I realized how much his confidence in our relationship meant to me. He spoke with pride about watching me work on my business plans while I was still in the Army, then the exhausting year I'd spent working security at the hospital and doing bond enforcement while slowly building up my clientele. I didn't know how I could still be surprised by how much he loved me after all these years, but I was.

I pushed my reverie aside and realized Melinda was watching me while I was watching Julio. I had no idea how I'd looked, but I used the opportunity to take a bite of bread and washed it down with water to reset myself. The second course, a lemon foie gras, was brought to the table before I could shift the conversation away from our personal life and into the professional realm. Once the server had refilled water glasses and had been assured that we were satisfied, he excused himself. I once again prepared to open my mouth to bring up the contract when Julio asked them how they met. I fought the urge to kick him under the table. I appreciated what he was doing, but this wasn't a social call. We were supposed to be hammering out the details of a multi-year, multi-million-dollar contract that would let me employ an additional one hundred and fifty people in the tri-state area, but now I was listening to Melinda and Theo's love story.

"We met in med school in gross anatomy lab," Melinda said. "And to say we hated each other would be an understatement."

"She hated me," Theo clarified. "I just found her annoying."

Melinda rolled her eyes at her husband. "Don't let him fool you. He called me an arrogant, self-important nepotism placement in the program when he learned who my father was," she said. "And asked how many kids I had to pay to do my homework in college."

Julio let out a low whistle. "How did you come back from that?" he asked.

"He's originally from the south, if you can't tell by his accent, so I asked him if his parents were brother and sister or just first cousins."

Julio laughed as Theo smiled and put a hand on her forearm. "I told her they were third cousins, thank you very much."

I laughed quietly as I realized I was seeing a completely different side of these people than I had last time. They had been more reserved and serious as we discussed their vision for the hospital and tore my plan apart with questions. They hadn't smiled much and certainly hadn't laughed. My social skills had most definitely been the problem. I needed to let Julio lead and I would follow.

Over the next two courses we heard about their family, which consisted of three daughters, and four grandchildren. The oldest daughter had followed in their footsteps and was in the middle of a family practice residency in Rhode Island. She had given birth to twin boys the day after her medical school graduation and was six months' pregnant with her third child, another boy. Their middle daughter was a political science professor at Ohio State University and was the mother of their only granddaughter and fourth grandson.

The fifth course created a lull in conversation as we ate Wagyu steak, mashed potatoes, and Chinese broccoli. Once I had finished with my plate, I introduced the subject of the contract.

"Were you able to review the newest amendments to the proposal that we discussed in the meeting with your board of directors?" I asked. "And did you have any further questions about the way our system would work?"

"We have and we were very happy with what we read," Melinda said. "You're so young to have so much knowledge of security protocols and system design. When we read your original proposal, we were expecting to meet a man in his fifties at least."

"He's an old soul," Julio said, nudging my leg with his. "And he cares a lot about his work. I make fun of him for being a workaholic, but I know he's always thinking about ways to make things safer for his clients. He also hates waste and overcomplicating things. I worked at a hospital during my training at Fort Sam Houston and their security protocol was a mess. You'd think the Army would have had something better. I like the way his plan has on-site coordinators each shift that stay in the monitoring room and aren't part of the direct response team. It's frustrating when you've got something happening in one department and then problems crop up in two others and when security gets there one will be over and the other is even worse than it was. Having someone who is always on the monitors who can direct people to where they really need to be will save a lot of wasted efforts and help deescalate situations sooner."

I wasn't sure if I had successfully hidden my surprise at Julio's response. I hadn't really discussed the contract proposal with him in any sort of detail, not figuring he would care. He tended to start fake snoring if I got into the weeds on system design. How did he know about that? Had I mentioned it?

"I completely agree," Theo said. "People have died in hospitals because of poor security structure." He looked troubled by this statement and took a long drink of his water while staring at the candle on the table.

"Our youngest daughter is the reason we care so much about making sure our hospitals are safe," Melinda said. "She was an ICU nurse at a hospital in Oregon, and the husband of one of her patients had become obsessed with her after his wife died. He simultaneously blamed her for his wife's death and believed his wife's spirit inhabited her body. She'd gotten a restraining order, but on April third of last year he snuck into the hospital pretending to be part of the janitorial crew and—," she paused and stared down at her plate in an effort to pull herself together. "He dragged her into the room where his wife had died and shot her, then himself."

I remembered the story and had it in mind when I wrote the proposal. I hadn't known that it had been their daughter nor the reason for them wanting to make such big changes to their current security program. It made sense now why they hadn't wanted me last time. I'd just seen it as a chance to make more money. I hadn't been as considerate of what my job truly meant in those days, though that had changed with time.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I can understand why this is important to you."

"I'm glad you understand," Theo said once he'd recovered. "Most of the providers we've met with just want to focus on the money and the details of the job and not the importance. Most places aren't willing to spend the type of money we are for security because they say they'll call in the local police if needed. We know things can happen in the blink of an eye, and that five minutes waiting on police to even arrive at the hospital and then another three to five minutes to get to wherever the emergency is happening is too long. We want our staff and patients to feel safe in our facilities. We don't want another situation like Caroline's."

"I'll admit I remember hearing about her death on the news and thinking about how I would have handled things as a security provider," I said. "I took that into account when I created the proposal. It may not be the most affordable one you've received, but I hope it would provide the quality of service necessary to prevent another tragedy like that."

Melinda and Theo looked at each other and nodded. "We agree. We've been most impressed by your proposal, but we needed to find out who you were as a person before we made our decision. Like Theo said, so many of these companies are just fixated on the financial aspects and the job seems to come second. It's clear to us you care about your job and the impact it has on people. Spending time with you and your husband tonight has helped us get a better sense of your character, and what I've seen and heard so far is that you are a good person who does this work because it's important to you. We've also called around to some of your clients both in New Jersey and in Georgia and have heard nothing but remarkably good things about you and your company. Which is why we are awarding the contract to your company. We're excited for the opportunity to work with you and make the Huntwell Medical System one of the safest in the country."

I knew there was no way I was hiding my surprise now. I'd left the dinner in my last life being told they would make a decision within the next couple of weeks. I'd expected to receive the same news this time around, even if they did offer me the contract. I'd never imagined this. I felt Julio reach over and squeeze my knee under the table.

"Thank you," I said once I'd recovered from the shock. "I wasn't expecting to receive an answer tonight, so this is a pleasant surprise. I'm honored to work with you on this and hope to meet your expectations."

The final course was served a few minutes later and we ate a strawberry tart while discussing our respective plans for the long holiday weekend. They would be joined by their daughters and grandchildren for a two-week vacation at their summer home in Massachusetts and talked about lazy summer days swimming, fishing, and sitting outdoors long into the evening. We would go to Sofia's for a barbeque on Sunday in a combination celebration of our first anniversary, Emilio and Lucy's first anniversary, and the fourth of July, which was always a big day in my family. No one loved celebrating America quite like Cubans.

It was after ten by the time we climbed back into the car with Julio in the driver's seat. We had talked to Melinda and Theo while waiting in line for the valet and our car had been the first to arrive. Julio pulled into traffic while I put our address in Google Maps for the best way to get home since New York was always under construction and it seemed like roads could be open one hour and closed the next. The route had just populated on the car's screen when Julio turned down a quiet side street and parked at the curb. When I looked over at him, he was smiling and unbuckling his seatbelt.

"I'm so fucking proud of you," he said, wrapping his arms around me. "You did it, baby."

I nuzzled my face into his neck. "It's because of you, babe," I said, pulling back so I could look at him. "You were perfect. You did all the right things—things I wouldn't have thought of doing or saying. I kept wanting to talk about the contract, and then you'd ask them a question or they would ask a personal question and that was where I fucked up last time. I was as bad as the other people they talked about. I got this because of you."

"You wrote a damn good contract because you do care about the job more than the money," Julio said. "Don't sell yourself short."

"I meant to ask how you know so much about the contract. Did I talk about it that much?"

"I read it last week," Julio said, reaching for his seatbelt. "I wanted to know what to talk about. I made a few notes on my phone so I could remind myself of what had stood out to me before we got here."

"That's what you were reading on the drive here?"

Julio nodded and made to put the car into drive, but I grabbed him by the lapel and kissed him fiercely. He moaned in surprise and responded with equal enthusiasm. We broke apart thirty seconds later with our lips—and other body parts— swollen.

"I'm glad you didn't have to take your clothes off at the restaurant," I said, my voice husky with desire. "Because that honor is all mine."

"It's a good thing you used to work for your dad's construction company," Julio said as he pulled away from the curb.

"Why is that?"

"Because I'm like a half-finished staircase: I need a good railing."

The door from the garage to the kitchen was barely closed before I had pushed Julio against the wall and crashed my mouth against his, working at his belt as I did. He almost lost his balance from the ferocity with which I pulled his pants down and took him in my mouth. His libido had recently returned after two months on the testosterone treatment, and we hadn't truly been able to appreciate it between my healing leg and the move into the new house. Once I'd left Julio weak in the knees in the kitchen, we made our way upstairs where I made good on my promise and stripped him out of the rest of his clothes before laying him down on the bed and burying myself in him. I was grateful we no longer lived in an apartment as he yelled out in pleasure and our headboard smacked against the wall so much that we'd find paint chipped off the next day.

"I didn't know you got so turned on closing business deals," Julio said a few minutes later as we laid on the bed trying to catch our breath.

"Me neither. But you've also never been there with me when I've done it, so maybe that's it."

"How much more energy you got left?" he asked. "'Cause we still have a whole house to christen."

I turned my head to look at him and smiled. "I've got all kinds of energy."

We started in the dining room where we performed a reenactment of Joyce Does Dickie on the Dining Room Table starring Carlos Manoso in the role of Joyce Barnhardt. The only difference from the original was the absence of Stephanie Plum walking in on the scene, though I did take a minute to imagine what might happen if she did. Real life Stephanie would be mortified and hurry out the door, but fantasy Stephanie would either stand by and watch, would squirm with desire until she couldn't stand it any longer and shove her hand down the front of her jeans, or she would take her clothes off and join us. I came imagining her sitting on Julio's face in front of me. Julio grinned up at me when we were done, and I knew he wouldn't be smiling like that if he knew what I'd been imagining. I'd take that particular fantasy to my grave.

We moved onto the kitchen, where I held onto the edge of the sink and looked out over our backyard as Julio's mouth whispered dirty things in my ear and the sound of our bodies slapping against each other echoed around the kitchen. One day I would be eighty years old standing at that sink and would still smile at the memory of that night.

We finished the night in the sunroom, where I laid him down in front of the fireplace and took things at a slower pace. This was likely the only time we could take advantage of this room since it was full of windows. I was pretty sure the neighbors we did have couldn't see into the sunroom very well even at night, but if they were up at two in the morning looking outside and could see us in the dark, then they were getting a free show.

When my alarm went off at five the next morning, I winced in pain as I moved to turn it off. We hadn't gotten to bed until three and one last round of sex kept us awake until closer to four. My left leg throbbed and the rest of my lower body ached as I sat up on the side of the bed. I slowly stood up and limped into the bathroom. I swallowed two Aleve with some water and turned the shower on as hot as I could stand it, hoping to loosen up my aching muscles.

I was halfway through washing my hair when Julio walked stiffly into the bathroom and climbed into the shower with me.

"Oh my God, I don't know if I'll be able to walk today," he said, nudging me aside to step under the hot spray. "Are we getting old or did we just overdo it?"

"Probably a bit of both," I said. "Joaquin will wonder what the hell I've been doing when I go to therapy later today."

"He'll know," Julio said. "He probably won't say anything, but he'll have an idea."

I stood in the shower while Julio washed his hair and felt my muscles starting to relax. "We need to write the manufacturer of that dining room table and tell them it's such good quality that two grown men can have sex on top of it without breaking it," he said. "Ten out of ten, would recommend."

"But causes friction burns," I said, noting a few spots on Julio's back similar to spots on my knees and shins. "Nine-point-five out of ten. Still recommended."

It was nine-thirty when I walked into the office, feeling more limber than I had that morning after an hour of physical therapy. Stephanie was sitting at the front desk, and I thought back to my inappropriate fantasies in the middle of the night. Not good. Instead, I thought about dinner the night before.

"We got the Huntwell contract," I told her. "They told me over dinner last night."

"That's great," Stephanie said. "Is that the one in Atlantic City?"

"No, it's the chain of hospitals in the tri-state area."

She rolled her eyes up to the ceiling in thought. "Oh yeah. I was getting it confused with that other one."

Stephanie had never been interested in the details of my contracts in my last life either. We could have outlined the entire deal in front of her at the meal and she still couldn't have said much about it. This time around she worked for me and had access to the documents and still got them confused. Meanwhile, Julio had read the entire report and taken notes so he could participate.

"Come to my office after lunch," I said, mentally scolding myself for getting sidetracked. "We need to start planning for the contract. It starts January first, and we have a lot to do in the meantime."

The Huntwell lawyers were supposed to have the official contract sent to my lawyers by the tenth and it needed to be reviewed, any corrections made, and officially signed by the end of July. I had been given limited access to hospital information so I could write the proposal and wouldn't have access to the full scope of things until the contract was signed. I had done enough of my own research to know ninety percent of what I was dealing with, so I wasn't anticipating any surprises.

I took the rest of the morning to catch up on other tasks, including Project Keep Morelli Out of Jail. Striker's gang and Jimmy Alpha finally began appearing on the marina camera feeds at the end of April. I had extensive video footage and still photographs of each member of the crew and Alpha and of the heroin and cash being transferred between vehicles and boats. I kept up the surveillance for the entire month of May before removing the cameras. I saved several copies of the footage for myself and sent a few printed photographs and thumb drives with footage to the Atlantic County Sheriff's Department, Trenton Police Department, New Jersey State Police, and the DEA. At least one of them had to bite, but I had no way to know if they would have their cases built in time. I had less than three weeks before Carmen would call Morelli and events would unfold. I'd considered trying to talk to Carmen, but the only way I could do it would be by pretending to pick her up for sex. And there was no guarantee that I could trust her not to tell Ramirez. I considered getting connected with Lula, but between her current pimp and the fact that she hadn't gone through the brutal assault from Ramirez that ultimately led her to leaving sex work, I didn't like my odds and worried it might draw too much attention. I was in a holding pattern, and I hated it. I was starting to consider my options on how to intervene with Morelli should law enforcement not pick them up in time. So far none of my plans were great, and all were likely to make Morelli suspicious.

Stephanie and I worked on the timeline for preparations until four. "We've done all we can today. You can leave early, get a head start on the long weekend," I told her. "See you on Tuesday."

"Great, thanks," she said, closing her laptop and cleaning up the candy wrappers and empty water bottles she had left on the desk while we worked. "Hey, I wanted to ask you something," she said once she had her computer in hand. "I like my job, but sometimes it's a little boring. Can I get trained to do some field work? Not a lot, but just sometimes? My ass falls asleep if I'm at the desk for too long."

I'd known this day was coming and already had an answer prepared. "Yes, but I'll be the one training you and it'll have to wait until I'm back up to full field work. That may not be until sometime in the fall." That was mostly true. I could start some of the training now, but I wanted to see how things went with the timeline once we hit the point where she had entered my life last time.

"There's no way to start now?" she asked, a hint of pleading in her voice.

I'd known this would happen too, so I already had a plan for that as well.

"You can start some weapons training with Rowan, if he has time. That's it."

She beamed, told me to have a nice weekend, and left my office. I shook my head, dreading the idea of Stephanie Plum doing field work, and put a meeting on the calendar for Thursday morning for Rowan, Tank, Matt, Kim, Stephanie, and myself. I glanced at the timeline Stephanie and I had created and started running through plans in my head. I'd need to bring on a second IT person to help with Matt's already large workload and would need someone in line to take over direct supervision of the entire program once it was off the ground and running smoothly. I'd promoted Kendrick Jones from being a staffing supervisor for the MCSD security program to Manager of School Security when we'd won a smaller contract for a couple of boarding schools in the Columbus area, which took pressure off Tank as the Columbus Branch Manager and Kendrick's direct supervisor. I had promoted Rowan to Trenton Branch Manager at the beginning of June and he would become the direct supervisor over the person in charge of hospital security. I wondered if I could convince Julio to take the job.

"No fucking way," he said when I suggested it Sunday afternoon as we drove to Sofia's house. "I'm not having you as a boss."

"I wouldn't be your boss. If you worked with me, you'd be on the same level as me. You would just be focused on the hospital program while I oversee the company as a whole," I said. I reached across the console and ran a hand up his thigh. "Come on, babe. Think about it. Working late together. One of us knocks something off the desk and has to bend over to get it," I said, raising a suggestive eyebrow.

"You can fuck me on your desk at home anytime. I don't have to be on your payroll," he replied, pushing my hand away.

"What if Anthony comes out of the closet? We had a deal," I reminded him.

"Yeah, right," he snorted. "Even if Anthony was gay, there's no way he'd come out. If you're hoping for that, you're gonna be disappointed."

I bit back a smile as I thought about Anthony. I'd offered to pay Anthony a thousand dollars to tell everyone at the poker game one night that he thought he was gay, and I'd throw in another two thousand if Julio actually believed it. If it got Julio working for me, I'd give him a full ten thousand dollars. I really wanted Julio to work with me. Anthony had eagerly agreed, though he had asked for time to prepare, whatever that meant.

Sofia lived in one of the northern suburbs of Newark in a three-bedroom, two-bathroom home that was too small for her family of six, which meant it felt like being in a sardine can when she hosted family gatherings. No one had been to our house yet, but there had been multiple hints from Sofia and several direct statements from Celia that we would be responsible for hosting family events in the future. I didn't mind, but I had asked to wait until the basement was finished so we could banish the little kids downstairs if the weather didn't permit being outdoors.

Parking was always a crapshoot at Sofia's house on holidays because it seemed like everyone in her neighborhood hosted events at the same time. Her driveway was already filled with her green minivan, Tony's Honda Civic, Celia's white Equinox, and Emilio's red 1984 Corvette. Aurelia's silver Cadillac was parked on the street behind a car I hadn't expected to see.

"What's wrong?" Julio asked.

"My parents are here," I said, nodding towards the black SUV parked in front of the house. "And I assume Grandma Rosa's here as well."

I pulled up behind Aurelia's car, blocking the driveway as I considered the situation. Sofia had never said anything about our parents being there, but I also hadn't asked. I had assumed if she was inviting me it was because they wouldn't be present. I should have known better. She had been on my case more about reconciling with them after learning Mom came to my office to apologize in person.

"Carlos."

I turned my attention to Julio who was looking at me expectantly. "Are you gonna park the car?"

"I don't know if I want to stay," I said, glancing up at the house.

"We just drove an hour to get here, and I'm hungry," Julio complained. "Why can't you just go in there and hang out with your family? I don't think Sofia's gonna hold a gun to your head and force you to talk to your parents."

"She should have told me they'd be here."

Julio made a frustrated noise. "They've both apologized for everything. What more do you want from them?" he asked shortly.

"Who says I want anything?" I asked.

"Baby, you need to let this shit go. Okay? Look at me," he said, gesturing vaguely at himself. "Look how fucked up my dad's had me my whole life. My therapist has been working with me on letting go of shit because holding onto it just hurts me and not him. My dad's a lost cause and maybe your Grandma Rosa is too, but your parents aren't. They apologized. They wanna do better. I wish I had that."

I ran my finger over the emblem on the steering wheel. "Remember what your mother said about your uncle and why he didn't want her to tell your grandparents that he was dying?"

"Because he didn't want to be rejected again before he died."

"Exactly. I don't want to go through that again," I said.

"What would they do at this point?" he asked. "They know you're gay, and you're married to a man. You think they'll have an issue with us having kids?"

I shrugged and glanced back up at the house. He wasn't going to budge on the issue. I attributed most of it to hunger, but there may have been a chance he had a valid point in there somewhere. "Fine, let's go in."

"You're just gonna block the driveway?" Julio asked as we climbed out of the car.

"If I have to stay, so do the rest of them."

We let ourselves in and made our way towards the noise at the back of the house. Mom, Sofia, Celia, Lucy, and Aurelia were standing in the kitchen talking while Aurelia's daughter sat at the dining room table coloring a picture.

"Hey you two!" Lucy said when she saw us. "Happy anniversary. It was Monday, right?"

"Yep. Longest year of my life," Julio joked, making Celia and Lucy laugh. Aurelia didn't seem to know if he was serious or not. I didn't look at my mother to see what she thought.

"There are drinks outside," Sofia said, coming over to us. She hugged Julio, then me. "I'm glad you came," she said.

"It would have been nice to know the guest list ahead of time," I told her quietly.

"Why, so you could say no?" she asked in an impatient whisper. "I'm tired of this, Carlos. I'm tired of having to tiptoe around you when it comes to Mom and Dad. I'm done debating whether to invite you and Julio or Mom and Dad. This is how it's going to be from now on. Deal with it." She walked off in an irritated huff and Julio pulled me towards the back door.

"Let it go," he said in my ear.

The kids were playing in the above ground pool that sat towards the back of the property, yelling and splashing each other. My father was standing at the grill next to Tony and Grandma Rosa sat in a chair in the shade talking to her sister. They both looked in my direction. Aunt Eva held up a hand in greeting. Grandma looked away.

We had been talking to Emilio and Andres for half an hour when the women came out carrying various dishes to a long table set up by the grill.

"Lunch is ready!" Sofia yelled. The kids scrambled out of the pool and grabbed towels as they ran to the food table. Their mothers scolded them for acting like feral raccoons and sent them to sit down until after the adults had served themselves. Julio walked up to the table with Emilio, but I hung back letting a few people get in between my parents and me.

"Are you okay?" Celia asked as she slipped an arm around me. "I told Sofia she should have told you Mom and Dad were coming."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked, grabbing a plate from the stack.

"Because I didn't know you were coming until today."

I didn't say anything else as I put food on my plate. I'd felt like an outsider in my family from a young age. It had gotten better the older I got in my last life, but the feeling had never completely gone away. I'd hoped this time would be different, and it was but not in the way I'd wanted.

Julio was sitting at the long table set up for the adults next to Emilio, an empty seat next to him on the end presumably waiting for me. I wasn't thrilled to see my parents were sitting almost directly across from us. I wasn't sure if that was intentional or just the seats that were available. I sat down and focused on eating while listening to the various conversations around the table. I wasn't particularly tuned into any single one, but eventually everyone turned to the same topic: politics.

"Fuck me," Julio whispered. "Are you ready to go? I didn't sign up to attend the RNC."

I chuckled and put an arm around the back of the chair. "If I have to deal with my parents, you have to deal with the politics," I whispered. "Just don't let them find out you voted for Sanders in the primary because I can't guarantee your safety. I can't run on this leg yet and my gun's in the car."

"Got it. Pretend I've never voted a day in my life and run like hell if they find out the truth," he said with a shake of his head. "Fucking Cubans."

I didn't feel bad watching Julio bite his tongue while my family discussed all the heavy-hitting political topics. Maybe he'd be a little more sympathetic to my position after this. I thought his head might explode when the topic of immigration came up.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he whispered in my ear. "Talk about pulling the ladder up behind you. Goddamn hypocrites."

"You lived in Little Havana for four years. Why are you acting like this is the first time you've heard this stuff?" I asked.

Julio shook his head, clearly too pissed off to elaborate. Part of me hoped he would lose it and give us a reason to leave early. He was given a reprieve a few minutes later when the kids started running back to get into the pool and Celia and Sofia yelled at them not to swim yet so they didn't throw up. Milo ignored his mother and proceeded to cannonball into the pool. Politics was set aside for debates about whether there was any truth to the idea of not swimming for thirty minutes after eating.

"Sofia told us you two bought a house," my mother said, apparently deciding to test the waters with me. I flicked a glance up at her and then back to my plate without a response. Julio nudged me hard with his knee.

"Yeah, we did," he said. "We just got all moved in last week. We had to wait until we got some work done upstairs. We've still got the basement to refinish, but they'll get started on that next month."

I thought I saw a flicker of hurt cross my father's face. A small, immature part of me wanted to gloat that we'd used someone other than him to work on our house. The rest of me didn't want to think about it.

"What have you done so far?" Sofia asked from my mother's other side.

"We moved the laundry room up from the basement to the second floor, turned part of our room into a home office and made a new entrance to the bedroom, put in some new windows in the sunroom, and installed new garage door openers so it doesn't sound like a train trying to stop every time one of us comes home. When the basement's done, it'll have a guest bedroom and bathroom, a home gym, and an extra living room."

"Damn, that's a lot of work," Emilio commented. "Who'd you hire?" I thought I saw Lucy elbow him in the ribs, but too late. The question was already out there.

"A friend of ours owns a small construction company," I said. "We first hired him to do our inspection and then asked him to do the work for us since he said he had a big job fall through."

My father stood up abruptly and left the table with his plate. Silence lingered for a few moments before Emilio turned the topic of conversation towards the fall menu they were planning at the restaurant. I picked up my own plate and threw it away a few minutes later, heading towards the house for a break from the group.

I didn't know where my father was, so I listened carefully once I was inside. I made my way to the first-floor bathroom and locked myself in. We had only been there an hour, but it had been an hour too long. She hadn't said it, but I knew Celia agreed with Sofia and that the status quo for family gatherings moving forward would be to invite all of us. I couldn't argue with them over who they invited to their own homes, so I would have to decide what my position was for the future. Was I willing to sit through family dinners and holidays with my parents only feet away? Part of me wanted to—I missed talking to my father about business and life in general. I missed my mother's questions about my life and encouragement to do more than just work. I wanted to tell them about the contract I had just secured and the plans I had for the future of my business. But I reminded myself that I was missing a relationship with them that had never existed in this life as I remembered my mother's expression and the anger in her voice when she called my relationship with Julio disgusting, and Celia's words about my father's silence whenever my name came up.

I used the bathroom and washed my hands before rolling my shoulders and preparing to go back outside. This might be the last family gathering I attended unless I hosted it and controlled the guest list, so I boxed up my emotions the way I did when I was at work and opened the bathroom door. I had only taken a step into the hallway when voices carried down the stairs.

"—don't understand, Sofia," my father's strained voice said. "He hates me. My son hates me." And then he started to cry.

"Dad, I don't think Carlos hates you," Sofia said gently. "He's just angry. He's always been like that. Even when he was little. He holds grudges. But Julio doesn't seem like that. Maybe he can convince Carlos—,"

"I don't want anyone to convince him of anything," my father interrupted. "If he forgives us, it has to be his choice. But I don't think he ever will. You saw him. He won't even look at us."

"You just need to keep trying," Sofia said. "He's so stubborn. If you just keep trying, one day—,"

"Sofia, we can't push him." I was surprised to hear my mother's voice. She didn't sound upset, just resigned. "Your father's right. If he can ever forgive us, it has to be his choice. Sister Mary Catherine's helped me understand that God's forgiveness is always there, but that humans are a different story. We have to accept that Carlos may never find it in his heart to forgive us."

"But he needs to," Sofia said, her voice breaking with emotion. "I just want us all to be a family again."

I heard a noise at the end of the hall and looked up to find Julio watching me. I shook my head and pushed away from the wall. "Let's go home," I whispered as I walked to the front door.

We didn't talk on the drive home. I was busy keeping myself in check. I wasn't sure what Julio was doing. I was afraid if I looked in his direction, the dam around my emotions might break. Several text message notifications popped up on the car's screen as I drove, and I ignored all of them but one from Tank about a break-in at a residential account. Sofia tried to call once, but I sent it directly to voicemail. She tried to call again, and I repeated the action. A voicemail from her popped up on the screen a minute later and I ignored that too.

I went straight to the pool when I got home, thankful for the tall shrubs that blocked the view of the pool from the second stories of nearby houses. It meant no one but Julio could see me leave my jeans, t-shirt and boxers on the side of the pool and climb in. Our pool was a standard-sized residential inground pool, but I swam laps anyway. I needed a physical outlet for my feelings and if I tried to run on my leg, I'd hurt myself and set back my recovery. I focused on the sound of the water rushing by my ears and the sensation of my body sliding through it as I swam lap after lap after lap. At first it was annoying that I had to turn around so often, but eventually I stopped noticing and it just became another part of the process. I had no idea how long I'd been out there when I realized Julio was sitting on the edge of the pool. I stopped and swam over to the edge.

"How long have I been out here?" I asked, wiping water from my face.

"Over an hour," he said. "You need to be careful. You can still mess that leg up by swimming too much."

I nodded and pulled myself out of the water and onto the ledge next to him. He handed me a green towel and I used it to wipe my face and dry my hair and beard. I hung the towel around my neck and stared down at our feet under the water.

"I don't know why," I said after a while. "If I did, I'd tell you. But I don't."

"If you can't forgive them, then you need to say that to their face," Julio said. "Stop your passive-aggressive bullshit, and just be a man and tell them."

"I'm not being passive-aggressive."

"You knew it would hurt your dad's feelings. That's why you spoke up and said we hired a friend's company. He'd probably be less upset if we'd just said we used someone the realtor recommended."

I didn't respond to that, but focused on a bent branch in the shrub on the opposite side of the pool. I followed the branch as it left the trunk and dipped at a forty-five degree angle, wondering what had caused it. A raccoon? A squirrel?

"I'm not saying you have to forgive them," Julio said, breaking my concentration on the shrub. "I'm just saying that if you can't, then you need to let them go. That's what I'm doing with my dad. Maybe you should talk to my therapist."

I shook my head. "I can't. There's too much of this wrapped up in my past life to explain away." I pulled my legs out of the water and stood up, wincing at the strain in my left calf. I wrapped the green towel around my waist and walked over to grab my clothes.

"You need to figure this out before we have our own kids," Julio said as we headed back to the house. "I don't want to fuck them up with our stuff."

I nodded and put an arm around his waist. "I know. I'll figure it out. Promise."