October 6, 2016

"Sign here," the attorney said, indicating a line at the bottom of the page. "And initial here."

I had been signing papers for the last ten minutes and my hand was starting to cramp. We were closing the sale of the Haywood building eight months earlier than my last life. It threw off some of the timeline, but I didn't anticipate issues hiring Ella and Louis in a few months. I wanted plenty of time to work with the contractors and interior designer on the building's layout, as there were several aspects I wanted to change from my previous experience.

I left my attorney's office twenty minutes later eager for the next chapter of my business. The contract with Huntwell would be in effect as of January first, and I was hoping to be moved into the building by summer. Once the new office and the hospital contract were running smoothly, I would focus on opening my Atlanta office.

Julio called as I was pulling out of the law firm's parking lot. I could tell by the tone of his voice he wasn't having a great day.

"Mom called and said their flight into Newark got cancelled, but they managed to get booked into one coming into Philadelphia at two-thirty," he said with an annoyed sigh. "Since we're closer, she asked if we could pick them up and drive them up to New York. Can you do it or do I need to see if I can leave early?"

"I have meetings all afternoon," I said. "They start at one and end at five."

"Damn it. This day just keeps getting better," he muttered.

"What's going on?"

"I walked out of the house without my lunch. Then I got to work and realized I left my wallet on the counter next to my lunch, so I can't buy anything. I forgot to save my progress notes on my first two patients. Now this. I've only been here a month, and I'm already leaving early three days in a row. I might have to miss the rehearsal dinner tomorrow. They're gonna think I'm pulling the shit I did in Columbus."

We had been given the news the day before that Julio was sterile. The specialist's report was that the long wait to have surgery for his undescended testicles as a child had not only caused the low testosterone production, but he essentially had no sperm production either. What little sperm he did manage to make wasn't viable, even with IVF. I'd gone to the appointment with him knowing we would be getting the last test results that day and anticipated the bad news. He said he had prepared himself for it, and that he knew we would still have children. But he had been quiet all evening and hadn't slept much last night. He was clearly distracted today, and it was becoming a problem.

"I'll send someone for them. They can wait at the house, and then we'll drive them up to New York," I told him. "And I'll grab your wallet. What time is your lunch?"

"Eleven-thirty to twelve-thirty." I glanced at the clock on the car display. Ten-thirty.

"I'll bring you something. What do you want?"

I heard a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. "Anything. Will you eat with me?"

"Of course."

I turned the car in the direction of home and called Stephanie.

"I need you to pick up my in-laws at the airport this afternoon," I said. "Their flight lands at the Philadelphia airport at two-thirty."

"Isn't Julio's sister getting married in Manhattan?" she asked. "Why fly into Philadelphia?"

"Their flight got cancelled and this was the closest they could get. You just need to drive them to my house. They can stay there until we get home. There's a spare key in the top drawer of my desk. The alarm code is six-five-three-one-four-two-nine. Leave the key with them."

I pulled into the parking lot of the Hamilton Gardens Rehabilitation and Retirement Center at eleven-twenty. Hamilton Gardens was the type of facility that people with enough money went to when they needed long-term care, but who weren't wealthy enough to have private nurses providing round-the-clock care in their home. The facility offered assisted living apartments and condominiums on one part of the campus, and the main facility housed both a short-term rehab center and a long-term care unit. Julio worked in the main facility.

I was buzzed into the lobby and glanced around while I waited for the receptionist to get off the phone. Two hallways branched off from the lobby. Dark colored furniture was clustered in conversational groups and three older women were sitting around a square table playing cards. One was sitting in a wheelchair and the other two had walkers next to them. Their heavy Long Island accents overpowered the quiet classical music playing on the speakers in the ceiling.

I had just managed to tell the receptionist that I was there for Julio when I heard him call my name. I turned around to find him walking down one of the hallways into the lobby with an old woman using a walker. He was holding onto a cloth belt wrapped around her waist with one hand and had a baby doll in the other arm.

"You can go down to the office. Third door on the right," he said, nodding his head down the hall. "I'll be there in a minute. I just gotta get her back to her unit."

I glanced at the doll in his arm and raised an eyebrow. "She wouldn't do her therapy unless I babysat," he said.

"You can't leave a baby behind," the old woman said to me. "They'll take your kids for that these days." At least she was being responsible.

I watched as Julio and the woman headed down the other hallway and had turned to go to the office when I felt someone touch my arm.

"Excuse me, but do you work here?" I turned around to find one of the women from the table standing beside me. She had dark-hair streaked with white, piercing brown eyes, and leathery skin from decades worshipping the sun. The top of her head didn't even reach my shoulder, and she wore a dark orange caftan patterned with brown and yellow leaves with what was probably every piece of jewelry she owned. She looked like she should be hovering over a crystal ball to tell me my future.

"No, I don't," I said. I turned to leave again, but she grabbed ahold of my arm.

"Would you like to work here? We could always use more big strong men like yourself around here," she said with a smile.

"I already have a job, but thank you," I said. She had linked her frail arm around my elbow and seemed surprisingly strong for her size and the fact that she looked like she might have known Jesus personally. "I need to get going."

"I'll walk with you," she said. "What is this job that you have that so much more interesting than working here?"

I started to walk down the hall at a snail's pace for the sake of the woman clinging to my arm. "I own a business."

"Oh, an entrepreneur," she said, making the word sound more French than necessary. "What line of work?"

"Private security," I said. If we moved any slower, we'd be going backwards.

"Do you carry a gun?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Yes."

"Can I see it?"

"It's in the car."

"Too bad," she said. "I would have liked to see it. I guess I'll just have to look at your other guns instead."

I didn't respond to that, hoping she would lose interest and leave, but she just held on tighter as we moved along the corridor.

"Shouldn't you get back to your game?" I asked.

"They'll wait for me. Besides, it takes Louise ten minutes to shuffle the cards and another five to deal. If I'm not back by then, they'll just know it means I got lucky," she said with a wink.

And I'd thought Edna Mazur was bad. I had no idea how to respond so I just kept walking with her clinging to my arm. We were almost to the second door when she started talking again.

"Are you married?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Too bad," she said with a sigh. "If I were forty years younger, I'd be snatching you up."

I was saved from the need to respond by Julio's voice behind us.
"Gloria, if you were forty years younger, I'd fight you for hitting on my husband," he said. "And where's your walker?"

We turned to face him, and I saw Gloria give me the least subtle once-over I'd ever experienced. "This is your husband? Oh, honey, good for you."

"Thank you," Julio said with his arms crossed. "Where's your walker?"

Gloria waved a dismissive hand. "I don't need that silly thing."

"Oh yeah? What were all those falls about then? Are you trying out to be Tom Cruise's new stunt double or something?"

Gloria sighed and looked up at me. "He's such a hard ass," she stage-whispered.

Julio let out a laugh. "You think I'm bad? This guy is Mr. Hard Ass. I've got nothing on him."

Gloria looked up at me, then craned her neck to look around at my ass. "I bet," she said.

I nodded towards the lobby and Julio turned around. He grabbed the walker from the table and brought it to stand in front of Gloria, who frowned down at it.

"You know, I'm feeling a touch weak," she said, putting a demure hand to her throat. "I might need him to carry me back to my seat." She looked up at me and batted her eyelashes.

"Don't make me fight you after all, Gloria," Julio said. "Go find your own man. Preferably one closer to your own age and not your grandson's."

Gloria sighed and took hold of her walker, making her way back down the hall towards the lobby. "If you change your mind, you know where to find me," she said, not bothering to turn back. Julio snorted and shook his head.

"These old people are too much," he said.

I followed him down the hall to the third door. The words Physical Therapy were etched on a large name plate and below it three smaller plates read Daisy Miller, DPT, John Farnese, PTA, and Julio Manoso, PTA. There was an empty fourth plate under Julio's name. He unlocked the door with his ID badge, and we stepped into a fifteen-by-ten-foot office. Four small desks were situated towards the back of the room, forming L-shapes in each corner and a large copy machine sat against the back wall between them. A four-person table sat in one front corner of the room. A small refrigerator and a table holding coffee supplies and a microwave sat in the other.

I handed Julio his wallet and set out the sandwiches I'd picked up at a nearby deli while he typed up the patient's progress note before he forgot it. He kissed the top of my head as he sat down at the table five minutes later.

"Thanks," he said. "Who's picking up Mom and Lamar?"

"Stephanie," I replied. I could tell he wasn't thrilled at the idea but wasn't going to say it. "She'll drop them off at the house and we can drive them up after work."

We ate in silence for the next few minutes. Julio focused his attention on his food, and I focused on him. He was heartbroken—there was no other word for it, and it worried me. The last time he'd had a major emotional blow, he started drinking again. I still kept tabs on our finances and would check out random places in the house just to be sure nothing was hidden, but I knew there wasn't. He was going to therapy and being open when he did feel the urge.

"Talk to me," I said once I'd finished eating. Julio shrugged while he chewed a bite of ham sandwich.

"I'm okay," he said once he'd swallowed. "It was just one of those days."

"Babe, we both know that's not true. Yesterday you were told you're sterile, and tomorrow you'll be in the same room as your father for the first time in six years. That's a lot for anyone."

His sorrowful eyes finally met mine. "I know it shouldn't matter," he said. "We know you can have kids." He took his time neatly folding up the paper wrapping that had covered his sandwich. "It's just one more fucked up thing about me. I just wanted one branch of this goddamn family tree to be able to say their husband and father was a decent guy who loved them and never left them. And what do I get? Broken balls."

He folded the paper into a triangle and flicked it across the table, where it bounced off the wall and into the trash can. I slid a hand over the table to grasp one of his.

"You're already halfway there," I reminded him. "You're a terrific husband, and you'll be an even better father. You couldn't be like Jaime if you tried."

Julio rested his forehead on the heel of his free hand. "I wish I didn't have to see him."

"We'll get through it. We did with my parents."

"Your parents genuinely apologized. Jaime Garcia would rather set himself on fire than love his gay son," he replied.

Our conversation was interrupted by the appearance of Julio's colleagues, who were coming into do progress notes and start their own lunch hours. After speaking to them for a few minutes, I said I needed to get back to the office and Julio escorted me to the door. He used his ID badge to unlock the door and kissed me as I left. I thought I heard Gloria whistle from across the room as the door closed behind me.

I was surprised to arrive home at six to a fully prepared dinner.

"I told Julio there was no point in trying to rush out the door when you got home because we'd just be sitting in rush hour traffic," Amira said when she greeted me. "By the time we're done, traffic should be a little better."

Julio had changed out of his work clothes and was wearing dark-wash jeans and a tight blue shirt which were personal favorites of mine. He was standing at the kitchen counter preparing a salad while Amira and Lamar set the table.

"Looking good, babe," I whispered in Julio's ear.

He turned to grin at me. "You brought my wallet and lunch even though it was out of your way. I figured I'd do something nice for you."

I took advantage of Amira and Lamar being distracted to give his ass a squeeze and kissed him on the cheek before I headed upstairs to change out of my work clothes.

"Is it wrong of me to hope Jaime gets kidnapped on his way to the wedding?" Amira asked as we drove up the turnpike an hour later. "I haven't had to see him since Layla's wedding. I swear if he says one word about you boys, I'm going to need bail money and a good lawyer."

"I may know a guy," I said. "But I'm not sure if we could get him on this short of notice."

Amira and Lamar laughed, not realizing I was serious. I was mentally kicking myself for not considering it in the first place. It wouldn't even need to be a true kidnapping. Even someone to throw up a bunch of barriers that would prevent his arrival in New York would have been sufficient. Maybe in the next life.

"I'm surprised he didn't bitch about Anders being so much older than Nadine," Julio said. "But I guess a sixteen-year age gap in a straight relationship is still better than gay guys the same age."

"That would require him to actually care," Amira said. "And he doesn't."

"He sure gave a shit when I told him I was dating Carlos," Julio said.

"That's different," Amira said. "That's because—," she paused to stare out the window for a minute. "He only cares about perceptions."

I flicked my eyes up to the rearview mirror to watch Amira. There was an inscrutable expression on her face that made me wonder what she had stopped herself from saying. She changed the subject a minute later to talk about the rest of the weekend. Amira and Lamar would come back to our house on Saturday night after the wedding to visit and explore the area until going back to Chicago on Wednesday. With Nadine in New York, Julio in New Jersey, and Layla in Virginia, Amira's only family in Chicago were Lamar, her mother, and Nora, whose relationship with their mother had always been on the rocky side. Layla and Nadine had both channeled their emotional struggles with being abandoned by their father into academics, becoming a lawyer and architect, respectively. Nora and Julio had been the ones who held onto anger. Julio's had manifested itself into his troubled youth, then his alcoholism. Nora's anger had turned into blaming Amira for Jaime's behavior and telling her she didn't do enough to keep their family together. They would go months at a time without speaking, and after their most recent argument over the summer, Amira had decided she no longer felt obligated to stay in Chicago once her mother was gone, which given Faiza's recent decline probably wouldn't be a whole lot longer. Lamar had been trying to get her to see that for a while now, and I could tell he was relieved she had finally arrived at the conclusion.

"Do you have your wallet?" I asked Julio the next morning as we headed out to the garage.

He patted his pockets. "Yes."

"Phone?"

"Yes."

"Keys?"

"Yes," he said, starting to sound annoyed as he laid the garment bag in the backseat of my car.

"ID badge?"

He looked over the car at me and glared, pointing to his chest where it hung from a lanyard around his neck. I put my hands up in surrender. "Just making sure we don't have to come back before we leave town."

I was dropping him off at work so that I could just pick him up that evening on the way to New York, where we would spend the night as to not make a third round-trip in as many days. I didn't expect Julio would be any less distracted today, thus the checklist as we left. I had too much to do to run home for something he forgot.

"Are you ready to talk to Morelli?" Julio asked as I drove towards Hamilton Township.

"As ready as I can be. I never expected to tell anyone else, and I'm not entirely sure how he'll take it."

My attempts to stop the weapons theft at Fort Braddock over the summer had failed and further attempts to track them on my own had also failed. Because of the changes in my work this time around, I didn't have as many connections on the streets as I had in my past life and the recovery from my broken leg had inhibited me too much to do more leg work on my own. I'd kept tabs on the storage unit where Spiro had stored them before Sandeman stole them, but he hadn't started using it until this week. I'd concluded that anonymous calls weren't enough anymore. They would either eventually be traced back to me and I'd have more scrutiny than I wanted, or they'd be ignored. I'd talked about it with Julio and we'd agreed that my best option was to tell Morelli the truth and let him figure out how to handle the information. He had the day off for his Aunt Rose's funeral and I didn't want to miss the chance to catch him when he wasn't working. Kenny would shoot Moogey in two weeks and I hoped to stop things before Moogey got blown away by Sandeman. Not that I thought Moogey deserved to live, but I wanted him to face the music for his role in contributing to people's deaths.

I pulled up to Morelli's apartment building at eight-fifteen, wanting to catch him before he left for the funeral. He would move into the house he inherited from Rose on Slater Street after the first of the year, which was something I could use to prove my story. Morelli would find out ten minutes before her funeral that he had inherited the house after a cousin had obtained a copy of her will and caused a scene over a family heirloom that had been left to someone else.

I knocked on his door and he answered a few seconds later in a t-shirt and shorts. It didn't look like he had been awake long.

"Sorry to drop by unannounced but I need to talk to you," I said. "It's important."

Morelli stood aside and let me in. "Sure. Want some coffee?"

We took our coffee into the living room, and I let Morelli get a long drag in before I launched into my story.

"What I have to tell you is going to sound bizarre," I began. "You're rightfully going to question my sanity. But I'm asking you to hear me out before you have me carted off to the psych ward. And Julio can vouch for me."

That put Morelli on alert. "Jesus Christ. How bad can it be?"

Depends on your definition.

"I've been reliving my life for the last thirteen years," I said, getting straight to it. "I died on Christmas Day 2023 and was given the chance to come back to relive my life. I didn't know how far back I'd go, but it took me back twenty years to Christmas Day 2003. Since then, I've lived with the knowledge of what was coming and have been working to change some things."

Morelli's face was expressionless. He wasn't sure if I was serious or not. "I'm telling you this because I've been trying to prevent various events, but I have to do it anonymously and that isn't getting me very far. If I'm found out, I'll be under scrutiny and can't answer their questions. I'm coming to you in the hopes that we can figure out how to stop these things from happening."

Morelli stared at me for a moment before taking another sip of coffee. "Who wins the Super Bowl this year?" he asked.

"The New England Patriots."

"That's not hard to predict," Morelli replied. "Seriously, did Mooch put you up to this?"

"It isn't a lie, and it isn't a delusion. I can prove it to you today. Right before your aunt's funeral, one of your relatives will obtain a copy of her will and you'll find out you inherit her house."

Morelli furrowed his eyebrows. "How do they do that?"

"I don't know. I don't know which relative. I only know what Stephanie told me in my last life."

"Stephanie? Plum?"

I nodded. "I was supposed to marry her six months before I died, but she was killed in a car accident the day we were flying to Vegas. She was why I came back. I wanted to save her life."

Somehow that seemed to surprise Morelli the most. "You were going to marry Stephanie Plum? What happened to Julio?"

"Julio and I were never together after high school in my last life."

"Seriously? So you came back to this life to save Stephanie, but you didn't want to go ahead and marry her? Not that I blame you, but that's a lot of work for someone you don't end up marrying."

"That was the plan, at least in the beginning. I made some inadvertent changes right away that set things up differently with Julio. Then I broke the plan again and tried to date her in college, but she wouldn't be exclusive, so I broke it off. I realized I was in love with Julio a few years later and had to decide who I wanted more. I chose him, but I'm still here to help her and save her life."

Morelli leaned on the arm of his chair and scratched his chin. "Did we know each other in your last life?"

I couldn't help but smile. "Yes, but we weren't friends. We were competing to see who would end up with Stephanie. I won."

Morelli let out a laugh. "Now I know you're lying. There's no way in hell I'd date Stephanie Plum."

"You did. Off-and-on for several years." From there I told him about Kulesza's death in my last life, him being on the run while he tried to clear his name, about Alpha and the drug ring, and Stephanie simultaneously helping him while trying to get her money for bringing him in. I explained how I had intervened this time and that I'd not only managed to keep him from killing Kulesza, but I saved Carmen's life. Once he knew the feds were onto him, Alpha had killed Ramirez and tried to flee the country but had been caught in Miami. He was currently in jail along with Sal, Louis, Striker, and his crew awaiting trial. Carmen and Lula had been able to come back to Trenton.

"You did all that so I wouldn't kill someone and get arrested?"

"Yes. Stephanie hadn't ended up working for Vinnie this time, so I didn't need to worry about her getting caught up in it. But I still didn't want you to go through that. And I hoped to save Carmen's life, which I did."

Morelli seemed speechless for a few moments. "Damn. Well, thanks."

I nodded. "Now I'm trying to intervene in another case, but it hasn't been easy because I didn't have as many details. Which is why I'm here. You've heard about the missing weapons from Fort Braddock?"

Morelli nodded. "Yeah, the rockets and cop killers. You know something?"

"Your cousin, Kenny Mancuso, along with a man named Moogey Bues and Spiro Stiva stole them and have been selling them. I tried to give Braddock a heads up, but they didn't take me seriously. Then I tried to track them on my own but couldn't because I don't have enough information. I knew they'd end up in a storage unit at R and J Storage on Oatland Avenue. I've kept tabs on it, but nothing appeared until a couple of days ago. They're being stored in caskets Stiva bought from Braddock's surplus."

"Kenny?" Morelli shook his head. "Makes sense. He's been spending a lot of money for a guy who just got out of the Army."

"Yeah, and if something doesn't happen soon, Perry Sandeman will get his hands on the caskets and sell the weapons himself. Kenny shoots Moogey because he thinks he betrayed them, but Sandeman kills Moogey to cover his tracks. Then Kenny finds out about Sandeman and kills him."

"Sandman gets involved? Fuck me," Morelli muttered. "When does all this go down?"

"Sandeman gets a hold of the caskets sometime the week of the sixteenth, and Kenny will shoot Moogey in the knee on the twenty-fourth. Sandeman takes him out a few days later."

Morelli nodded while he processed the information. "Okay. The best way for me to use the information is to say I have a new CI feeding it to me. I'll say you've only agreed to pass on information as long as you aren't registered. Since you aren't trying to get anything out of this, that will help my case and this information should be good enough for them to agree to that, but I'll have to give them something. A name, a background, how we met, protocols, things like that."

I bit back a smile as I thought about it. "Tell them my name is Leo, but I go by the street name Ranger."

"Like an Army Ranger? Isn't that too close to home?"

"Tell them it's like the Lone Ranger. I'm getting revenge for fallen comrades. You can say you suspect I'm affiliated with the Sherman Street Big Dogs, but you have no confirmation of it. And that I'm using a fake street name with you to avoid anything being traced back to me in Newark."

"Should I tell them you were the source for the drug ring?"

"No, that needs to be kept separate. We'll have to figure out ways to intervene that don't always have you bringing information from your CI. It'll get too suspicious."

"Agreed." Morelli shook his head. "I still can't believe this is happening. What else comes up?"

"Moses Bedemier is a major underground pornography producer using runaways and drug addicts to make his movies. He's also affiliated with a vigilante group that will be going around killing drug dealers."

Morelli leaned his head back against the chair. "Uncle Mo makes porn? This is going to be interesting."

Venerazione was an Italian restaurant on the eighth floor of a building in Rockefeller Center and only a few blocks away from the rooftop garden where the wedding would be held. We were the last ones to arrive as we had no part in the ceremony and therefore no need to attend the actual rehearsal. I heard Julio let out a long, slow breath as we followed the hostess toward a private room in the back of the restaurant. I patted him on the back to reassure him that we would be fine.

"There you are!" Nadine said once we entered the room. She was wearing a purple strapless dress and silver high heels. She hurried over to hug us, followed by her fiancé, who shook our hands. It was a small room for the twenty people that would be dining there. Tables had been arranged to create a large square in the middle of the room. Nadine and Anders were seated in the middle on one side, flanked by Amira and Lamar to Nadine's right and two blonde people that I assumed were Anders's parents to his left. Layla and her husband James served as a buffer around the table between Amira and Jaime. Nora sat between Jaime and her husband John. The Norwegian contingent snaked around the opposite side of the table, which left two spots open directly across from Nadine and Anders for us. I hadn't looked in Jaime's direction to take note of his reaction to our arrival. I was focused on Julio, who was working hard to keep his expression relaxed. We were introduced to Anders's family before we took our seats and servers converged on us offering drinks.

I snuck a glance at Jaime, who was glaring at a floral arrangement in the middle of the table. I noticed Amira's gaze flick frequently between Jaime and Julio. Conversation flowed around the table about the wedding and the couple's upcoming honeymoon in the Canary Islands as platters of appetizers and salad were passed around the table. Julio focused on his food like his life depended on it, though he wasn't really eating anything. He'd hardly spoken since we left Trenton and I suspected he was too anxious to eat. I nudged him with my leg, and he glanced in my direction.

"You can do this," I whispered. "Don't let him ruin this for you."

Julio nodded but continued pushing his food around on his plate and I felt his leg bounce nervously next to me. I stabbed my food a little more forcefully than necessary, imagining I was sticking the fork in Jaime's throat instead. I noticed the noise level gradually decline around us and looked up from my plate to realize the only people talking were Anders's family. The Garcia side of the table was quiet as they focused on their meals or pretended to busy themselves looking for something on their phone.

"Did you all forget how to talk?" Nadine joked after a few minutes. "I don't think I've ever heard this group be quiet for more than ten seconds."

"I'm just tired," Layla replied, putting her hands on her enormous pregnant belly. I was surprised she was there given her third baby was due in less than a month.

"Same," Nora said, her own pregnant belly not much smaller than her sister's, though she wasn't due to have her twins until January.

Nadine looked expectantly at us, but Julio wasn't paying attention, and I gave her a look that I hoped conveyed you know damn well why we're quiet.

"Well, I can't wait for everyone to see your dress tomorrow," Amira said, taking the heat off the rest of us. "Between it and the cathedral in the background, your pictures are going to be stunning."

Nadine and Anders talked about their future goals, including potentially moving to Norway. Nadine joked about traveling enough for all three sisters since she and Anders would be staying firmly in the child-free camp. Layla and Nora told her all the things she needed to do for them in various locations around the globe.

"Will you have children some day?" Anders's sister Emilie asked us.

"I hope not!" Jaime said firmly. "Dragging children into that—"

Julio pushed himself away from the table, and I prepared myself to grab him if he went for Jaime, but only after he got a few blows in. Instead, he headed to the door and yanked it open.

"See! He knows I'm right," Jaime said, gesturing towards the door. I stood up to follow Julio as the rest of the Garcia family started yelling at Jaime. I pulled the door closed behind me to contain the arguing. I looked around for Julio but couldn't find him.

"I think he went to the men's room," one of the young servers told me, pointing down a short hallway. "Should I give that a minute?" she asked gesturing towards the room. I nodded and headed towards the restroom.

I found Julio leaning against the wall outside the restroom, arms crossed and staring at the floor. I went to stand next to him and put an arm around his shoulders. We didn't talk because there was nothing to say. Jaime was homophobic and clearly hadn't changed in the last five years since learning of our relationship. We hadn't expected anything less, but I had hoped he would keep his mouth shut for Nadine's sake. The news of Julio's sterility only made Jaime's words sting more. I saw Amira walking in our direction and shook my head. She nodded her understanding and turned back toward the room.

"Do you want to leave?" I asked after a few minutes. Julio was chewing on the inside of his cheek and staring blankly into the middle distance. He shook his head and straightened up.

"No, fuck him. I'm going back in there," he said.

Awkward silence lingered in the room when we returned. Nadine and Nora looked pissed off. Layla had been crying. Emilie looked up at us apologetically, clearly not realizing her question would have triggered a land mine. We took our seats and helped ourselves to the platters of pasta and chicken that were passed along to us.

"Yes, we're going to have kids one day," Julio said unexpectedly once we'd served ourselves. "I just found out that I'm sterile, so it's hard to talk about right now. But we will have kids," he continued and turned his gaze to look right into Jaime's eyes. "And I'll be a better father than you could ever dream of being."

I squeezed his leg under the table, immensely proud of him in that moment. Jaime glowered in his direction before standing up and storming out of the room. No one went after him.

"I am so sorry," Emilie said. "I did not know it would be a bad subject."

"It's not your fault," I told her. "He would have said or done something all on his own."

Everyone focused on eating for a few minutes before Anders's father began talking about his experience living in Chicago for college in the early seventies. The group practically sighed with relief as they began talking about how different the city was compared to now.

The rest of dinner passed without incident or Jaime returning. The Sommers family ended up leaving shortly after dessert, since they were still battling jet lag. Once they were gone, Julio and I ended up in the spotlight.

"Are they sure you're sterile?" Amira asked Julio. "Do they know what caused it?"

Julio nodded. "It's because I didn't have my surgery until I was seven. These days they want it done before you turn two."

Amira's face fell. "The doctor told us not to worry, that as long as you had it done as a child, you'd be fine." She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. "I'm so sorry. We were just so scared to have our little boy go through surgery if you didn't need to."

"Mom, it isn't your fault," Julio assured her. "Yeah, I wanted a kid who might look a little like me. But it's okay. I'll just have to make sure they're funny because they won't get it from him."

"I'm not funny?" I asked.

"Not intentionally."

Everyone was watching Julio like he had a terminal disease, and this would be the last time they saw him. Not helpful.

"DNA isn't what makes you family," Layla said. "I mean, look at you two. If you ever got divorced, we'd keep Carlos and kick you to the curb."

Julio pretended to laugh and gave her the finger.

"I'm pretty sure my grandmother would keep him and send me packing, so it evens out," I said.

Amira was still clearly upset and Nadine had a strange look on her face as she watched us. She probably wasn't happy we were taking attention away from her before her wedding, but it wasn't intentional, and wouldn't be an issue at the wedding.

I was jolted awake at two in the morning by Julio, who was crying and saying "No, leave me alone" repeatedly. I immediately sat up and looked around the room, reaching for the lamp on the bedside table. But there was no one in the room. I glanced over at him and realized he was asleep.

"Babe, wake up," I said, gently shaking his shoulder. "Julio, wake up."

His eyes flew open in terror and he took in an enormous breath, seeming to hold it for an eternity before letting it out. He breathed heavily, eyes still wide and not registering his surroundings.

"You're safe," I said. "It's just me."

It took him a couple of minutes to pull himself back to reality. He rolled over on his side and curled up in a ball, burying his face into his pillow. I slid down to lay beside him and ran my hand over his hair. I didn't talk and didn't touch him in any other way, waiting for his sign that he was ready for me to come closer. Trauma left its mark, no matter how much work you did to recover. As teenagers we'd both had nightmares on a weekly basis. It hadn't been until we confessed the truth to one another and began our relationship that we found some relief. But even now, after almost forty mental years, I still had the occasional nightmare about my time in juvenile detention. Julio's nightmares tended to flare up when he was under significant stress. Mine were triggered by smells. If I encountered a scent that reminded me of the facility or the boys who hurt me, I'd find myself dreaming about it soon after.

"I'm okay," he murmured after a while, pulling me closer.

"We just have to get through tomorrow, and then you won't have to see him again," I said.

"I shouldn't have said anything about being sterile. Now Mom blames herself. And I think I pissed Nadine off."

"Jaime started it, so let's leave the blame with him," I said. "Besides, it was just family who heard it. It's not like you announced it at the reception."

Julio drifted off to sleep a few minutes later and I struggled to follow him as I realized my own feelings on the news of his sterility. I had looked forward to us having two kids, one fathered by me and one fathered by him. I imagined a child with Julio's smile and that mischievous glint in their eye as they cracked a joke to a girl that looked like Julie Martine, who would roll her eyes and walk away. We wouldn't have that now, and while I knew I'd love whatever children we had I would always miss the ones I'd created in my mind.

Nadine and Anders got married at six the next evening in a rooftop garden overlooking St. Patrick's Cathedral. She had called Julio earlier in the day to ask if he would walk her down the aisle. She had confronted Jaime about his behavior at the rehearsal dinner and it had culminated in a fight so severe she told him he wasn't walking her down the aisle and that she didn't care if he had a pulse, much less if he came to the wedding. She capitulated to the father-daughter dance, though it was clear neither of them really wanted it.

Nadine had summoned Julio to the dance floor after her first dance with her father. I watched them dance and talk as people got fresh drinks from the bar and moved to other tables to talk to friends and family. Julio was more relaxed than he had been at the rehearsal dinner. He seemed better prepared to pretend Jaime didn't exist than he had the day before. Jaime had been seated at a table with his brother, sister, and their spouses, and had been steadily putting the alcohol away since the bar had opened.

I noticed Julio's expression change from happy and relaxed to surprised the longer he talked to his sister. Whatever they were discussing was serious, but he didn't look angry or upset but dumbfounded. I couldn't imagine what she could be telling him to make him look like that. They continued to talk for the remainder of the song, Julio clearly asking questions and her providing answers. When it was done, they stopped dancing, and I saw Nadine nod her head. Julio hugged her and said something before walking back towards me. He indicated that I should follow him into a nearby hallway.

"What's going on?" I asked once we were out of the noisy room. "You and Nadine looked like you were having a pretty serious conversation."

He still looked stunned. "She wants to be our egg donor," he said in a distant voice.

I couldn't see my face, but I imagined it was nearly as shocked as his. I would have guessed a million other possible answers before that.

"She said she had been thinking about it since last night. She said her eggs are going to waste, so why not put them to good use? Then we can have kids that are related to both of us."

I still hadn't been able to speak. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been this surprised by something.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"I think it sounds like a good solution, but do you want it? Could you handle knowing your sister is our children's biological mother?"

Julio nodded. "It's the closest I'll ever get to having my own biological children."

"And Nadine believes she'll be able to handle it?"

"She said she's an identical triplet, so sharing half her DNA with her nieces or nephews isn't anything new. It's not she like would be getting pregnant and giving birth, so our kids wouldn't feel any more like hers than Layla's or Nora's."

I glanced down the hall as the door opened from the reception hall and a couple of women walked past us towards the restrooms. I waited until they were gone to speak again.

"If you're onboard, then so am I," I said.

As he beamed and hugged me tightly, I realized we might still get the children I'd imagined after all. And even if I'd had misgivings about it, the fact that it took that heartbroken look out of Julio's eyes would have swayed me into agreeing.

I took the opportunity later in the evening to dance with Nadine so I could talk to her about her offer.

"Are you absolutely sure about this?" I asked.

"One hundred percent," she replied. "Like I told Julio, my eggs are just going to waste. This would let him be related to his children, you'd know their family medical history, and it will hopefully get Mom off my back about not having children."

"So that's the real reason," I joked. "Anders doesn't have any issues with it?"

"He loved the idea when I brought it up, but I'd still do it even if he didn't. It isn't his call."

"We'll never be able to thank you enough for this," I told her as the song ended. "If you ever need a kidney or a hit man, call me."

I spotted Julio over Nadine's shoulder talking to Jaime. They weren't yelling, but they were obviously arguing. I made my way across the dance floor just in case Julio lost his cool and started pummeling Jaime, but Amira beat me to it. She grabbed Jaime by the elbow, practically dragging him towards the hallway door.

"What was that?" I asked once I'd arrived at Julio's side.

"He was trying to blame me for Nadine wanting me to walk her down the aisle instead. I told him if he wasn't such a dickhead that it wouldn't have happened," he replied irritably. "He was just starting to call me a faggot again when Mom got to him."

"I'm just glad you didn't beat the shit out of him," I said. "I didn't bring enough money to pay off witnesses."

"I wouldn't do that to Nadine. But he's probably gonna wish I'd beat the shit out of him by the time Mom's done with him," he replied. We glanced in unison towards the hallway.

"Let's go check on her. Just in case she needs help getting rid of the body," I suggested.

We made our way through the gradually emptying room as people said their goodbyes and headed home. I listened at the door that led to the hallway where Amira and Jaime had disappeared but couldn't hear anything. I pushed the door open and looked down the hall, but didn't see them. I could hear the murmuring of angry voices, so I knew they were there somewhere. We walked past the restrooms and towards the area where the bridal party had gotten ready earlier in the day. The voices got louder the further we walked.

"—kept your secret all these years," Amira said angrily. "Even after you said all those terrible things to Julio when he first came out, I kept quiet. I thought maybe one day you'd learn to accept your son."

We stopped outside the door, and I leaned against the opposite wall to listen. Julio leaned against the wall next to the door.

"Just 'cause you're willing to condone that behavior doesn't mean I have to," Jaime replied, his words slurring slightly. "You're just tryin' to redo history because of your brother. But I've fought it for thirty-five years. Why can't he?"

Julio glanced over at me with a wide-eyed expression. "What the fuck?" he mouthed.

"Why should he? He loves Carlos, and Carlos loves him. They're happy. They have a wonderful life. Maybe you'd be happy if you actually accepted yourself—,"

"No!" Jaime barked. "It's just a disgusting temptation."

"You didn't look very disgusted when I caught you in bed with that guy while I was pregnant with the girls," Amira said coolly. "Is that the only way you had sex with me? Did you have to pretend I was a man?"

Julio bit down on a knuckle to keep himself from yelling out.

"Look, I'm not perfect. But I've fought it. I slipped up sometimes when I was younger, but I've gotten better. I'm not that way anymore," Jaime said weakly.

"I don't believe you. You can't keep a girlfriend and you're a miserable bastard. You've missed out on the last five years of your son's life, and today you lost the ability to walk the last of your daughters down the aisle. And you're going to miss out on a relationship with some of your grandchildren if you don't fix things with Julio. Can you live with that? Can you go to your grave one day knowing you never repaired your relationship with your only son?"

"I don't have to talk to you, Amira. We got divorced for a reason," Jaime said, his voice growing louder as he got closer to the door.

"Yeah, because I couldn't stand being married to a miserable man. Your self-loathing is going to kill you, Jaime, and it's hurting your children."

The door was yanked open, and Jaime appeared, the color draining from his face when he saw me. I stared back at him dispassionately as Amira came around to see what he was looking at. They couldn't see Julio standing off to the side.

"I came to see if you needed help getting rid of his body," I told her, my eyes on Jaime.

Amira let out a huff of laughter. "No, I'm not going to kill him. He hurts himself enough."

I'd accepted in my last life that I had a dark side that would never be completely tamed. Most people would probably believe it was something that had developed out of my years in Special Forces, but I knew otherwise. It had been in me since an early age when I would create scenarios where I would get my revenge on the boys who regularly beat me up on my way home from school. It had only grown while I was in juvenile detention, where I had fantasized about torturing and killing the three boys who had repeatedly raped me. There had only been two occasions in this life where it had threatened to come out. The first time had been when I learned of Rachel's murder at the hands of Raymond Lewis. I'd created half a dozen scenarios in my head for how I could get to him. But he killed himself in prison two weeks later. The second time had been after Julio told me about Jaime's reaction to the news of our relationship and the subsequent times over the years that I'd seen Julio suffer the effects of his father's rejection.

"I disagree with that," I replied. "I don't think he hurts enough."

Jaime looked like he might piss himself. Amira also looked anxious. Julio looked like he was torn between letting me kill his father and trying to stop me from going to prison.

"Every time I've had to watch Julio cry because you hate him, I've imagined the ways I'd hurt you," I told him. "The only reason you're still alive is because I love him. But you're testing my self-control. Especially now that I know the truth."

"You'd better not tell him," Jaime said quickly, taking three steps forward to get in my face. We were the same height and probably the same weight, but mine was more muscle.

"Or what?" Julio asked, startling his parents. "You think you'd be able to hurt him?"

Jaime almost collapsed, grabbing onto the wall for support from the combination of intoxication and shock. Amira paled and closed her eyes. No matter how angry she was at her ex-husband, it was clear she never intended for Julio to learn the truth.

Julio was surprisingly calm as he stared at his father. "My therapist asked me once if I thought you could be gay and in denial and that was why you hated me so much. I said there was no way. Guess I was wrong. But it doesn't matter anymore. I gave up on you a long time ago. I don't need or want you in my life. Mom's right. You are a miserable bastard."

Julio walked away and I followed silently. We didn't talk again until we were back in the reception hall where the music would cover our conversation.

"Are you okay?" I asked once we were back at our seats.

Julio drank some water before he answered. "Yeah, I think I am. I've always wondered what I needed to do differently to make him care. Turns out there was nothing I could do because it was never about me. Not really."

"Well, it just goes to prove the point I made the other day. You couldn't be like him if you tried. Our kids will never have to feel the way you do."

Julio visibly relaxed and his expression softened as he put an arm around my shoulders. We watched Nadine and Anders slowly move around the dance floor, clearly happy together. Layla and James were sitting together talking quietly at a nearby table. Nora and John were sitting on a bench along a wall, and she was leaning on his shoulder with her eyes closed. All of Jaime Garcia's children had found happiness in their relationships despite his poor example as a husband and father. He might have wounded them with his apathy and abandonment, but he hadn't destroyed them. Their mother's love had helped them grow into good people. Flawed, but good people. I was thankful my future children would be a part of that. They may not know their grandfather, but they'd know their fierce, loving grandmother, their warm, gentle step-grandfather, their three aunts—one of whom was the reason we had them—, and Julio, who would love his children more than anything in the world and would sooner die than walk away from them.