By now I was certain I wanted to try again, but I still felt like I needed something, some proof Tom understood why what he did hurt me. He’d apologized, he’d made all kinds of promises. But I still didn’t know if he really got that I didn’t want someone who was lazy with what mattered to me.
I played the voicemail, anxious to hear him. His deep voice on the speaker made my whole body shudder.
“Hola, mi amor. Today’s message will be short, but I just wanted to say that I love you, I miss you, and I hope I can see you very soon. Te amo, Camilo.”
I almost called him then, because I was getting close to the point where my fortress of solitude was making almost no sense. Needing a distraction, I opened the Facebook app on my phone to check if my mom had posted anything new about her mysterious road trip. I had no idea who she was on this trip with, but she’d looked happy as hell on every picture she’d posted.
On the first day, she’d uploaded photos from Virginia Beach where they stopped, and since yesterday, she’d been posting a few from her old haunts in Miami. She even wrote little captions about why each place was meaningful. There were so many places that were special to her and my dad, many of which I didn’t remember or hadn’t been to.
When she called me last night, she’d said she was going to visit his grave today. I knew it would be emotional and hard, and I told her I was nervous for her. But she sounded calm on the phone, and said she was looking forward to it. I expected some photos to be on Facebook already.
As I opened the feed, I saw she’d uploaded a few of the cemetery, which was a little creepy. My mom, like everyone else these days, seemed to lack a filter when it came to posting personal stuff on social media.
There were some photos of the flowers she’d brought for my dad, and another one of her later in the day with two people who looked familiar. In the caption she said they were her old co-workers from the hospital she’d worked for when we lived there. She was smiling big in every picture, and she looked better than she had in years.
Suddenly, I felt enormous gratitude for whomever had done this for her. It was clearly the right time for her to take this trip after all.
I kept scrolling and when I saw the most recent post my heart stopped. I blinked and brought the phone closer, to make sure I wasn’t seeing things.
It was a photo of my mom at a restaurant, with a group of about five people. The post she’d written said:
At El Portal Restaurant on our last night. They still have the best Cuban food in Miami. These last few days have been a dream come true. It’s been wonderful to revisit all the places that were so special to me and my family after more than twenty years away. This has been a trip of healing, and I am so grateful for getting a chance to do it. I can’t wait to get back home and tell Camilo about everything he missed.
She actually inserted a smiley face next, because I was in bizzaro world right now. The three words with which she ended the message were what almost gave me a cardiac episode.
Thank you, Tom.
There he was, my slippery as hell boyfriend sitting next to my mom and some random people in Miami, holding up mojitos for the camera.
That sneaky fucker.
He’d driven my mother down to Florida. I should have been pissed heonce againdid something behind my back, but the only thing I felt was gratitude, and so much love.
This was not just sending a check.
Tom had driven for two days with my freaking mother in his car and had taken her to Miami so she could see my dad’s grave for the first time in twenty years. And tomorrow was going to get in the car and drive another two days to bring her back. That was not light work.
That waslove.
Shit. I was so screwed.
I quickly opened the text app and sent him a message.
Camilo:You sneaky fucker.
After a few seconds, I saw the three dots pop up and waited.
Tom:Am I your boyfriend the sneaky fucker, or just plain old sneaky fucker?
A laugh escaped my lips and I tapped another text right away.
Camilo:Just get yourself and my freaking mother back here in one piece, and we’ll see about your status. You stubborn, insufferable man.
I could feel my heart in my temples, and if I probed just a little, I knew I’d find I was feeling stupid levels of happiness.
Tom:You’re still texting, so it must mean I’m not at the very top of your shit list anymore.
He thought he was hilarious.
