“You don’t have to apologize or make me feel better. You were concerned for your mom. I get that. We’re fine.” Those last two words I felt in my gut.
I exhaled again, feeling emotional. How did he know exactly what to say, every time? Whenever he fucked up—and I knew the time would come, because as far as I could tell hewasa human being—it was going torock my world.
“She’s okay, just didn’t feel up to being with people. She asked me to invite you to come and see Juan Luis Guerra with us. He’s playing at the United Palace next weekend.” I was a little self-conscious asking, but it wasn’t presumptuous to invite him. I’d already met his kid.
He answered almost immediately. “I’d love to. I’d forgotten about that, I’d seen it announced somewhere. Libe’s with Maxwell next weekend, and I’m sure I can find a ticket. Thanks for inviting me.”
“Well I don’t know if you can get tickets by us this late in the game, but we could still go together.”
“I’ll find something.” The delight in his voice made warmth spread to my chest. “Thanks for checking in, too. I’m sorry our night got cut short, but I’m glad your mom’s okay.”
“Thanks for driving me and being wonderful, again. I had an amazing time today, Tom.” I wanted to say more. That tonight for the first time I’d felt like I was with someone I could trust enough to let in to my life, all of it.
“I had an amazing day, too.” He paused then and I held my breath, wondering if like me this day had changed things for him, but after a few breaths we signed off, both sounding relieved.
I ended the call as my mom walked back into the room with two steaming mugs of tea.
“He’s in for Juan Luis.”
She beamed at me as she passed me my cup. “Que bueno. I can’t wait to meet him.”
She sat down and started flicking through Netflix looking for something to watch and I tried to let the stress of the last hour wash away and focus on the positive. My mom was okay, things with Tom were good and soon they’d meet.
Our worlds were coming together.
chapter eighteen
tom
Tonight felt like a big deal.
I was driving up to Camilo’s mom’s place in the Bronx to pick them up and then we’d go to the Juan Luis Guerra show together. I had a hell of a time finding tickets but managed to get three together for a steep price. They were aisle seats about three rows from the stage. I wasn’t sure what seats Camilo had but was certain we could turn them in at the box office or even sell them outside without much issue. Tickets for a Juan Luis Guerra show in the heart of Washington Heights were not going to be hard to get rid of.
Camilo had been excited about the show whenever we’d talked in the last few days and said his mom had been in a great mood all week.
I hoped the great seats and the dinner reservations I’d made would go over well. Priya warned me I was trying too hard, but once I’d started, it was hard to stop. Camilo mentioned how this was a rare treat for him and his mom, and I just wanted to make the night as special as possible for both of them. His mother was obviously the most important thing in his life, and I was feeling the pressure to make a good impression.
I pulled up in front of the building and saw them standing on the sidewalk waiting for me. It wasn’t too cold for November, but it was still chilly, so I hurried to get them inside. Camilo’s momwas shorter than him by a couple of inches and she was very slender. Her skin was fair and her hair was streaked with gray. She had it done in a fancy braid coiled around her head, and she was wearing a festive red coat. When I came around to them, she gave me a big hug and kiss.
“Tom, encantada. I’m so glad you can come with us tonight. Milito has been keeping you all to himself.” She gave Camilo a fond look as he protested.
He rolled his eyes, but that slight edge that was usually present in Camilo was just not there when it came to his mother. “Mama, please don’t start. We’re here. We’re all going to see the show together.”
She laughed at him and let me help her into the car.
After she was inside I turned to Camilo. He was in a very well-fitting Navy blue peacoat with a soft red cashmere scarf around his neck. I lifted his chin and went in for a kiss.
“Hola, Milito.” I teased. He narrowed his eyes at me, but his mouth was twitching like he was barely able to hold back a smile.
“I refuse to respond to that name from anyone but my mother. So don’t even try it.” I laughed and opened the passenger-side door so he could get in.
“So salty, mi amor.” I knew I was pushing it, but Camilo’s gray eyes flashed with humor.
“Oh, Tom, if you only knew how little of my salty side you’ve seen. It’s almost a miracle how little you’ve managed to piss me off since we started dating.”
I laughed again but suspected he was being completely serious. “Don’t jinx me. I don’t want to end my streak.”
He shook his head at me as I closed the door to the car.
