Page 16 of Tastes Like Summer

“It is not your house. It’s Barbara’s. And you wouldn’t even⁠—”

“Mami?”

“Michael?”

Diana and I turn to see all three girls staring back at us, pale-faced. They shiver beneath the thick pool towels, Rachel on the verge of tears.

“What’s going on?” Diana’s oldest—Camila, I think—asks.

“I—We were just…” But my voice trails off, so I look desperately to Diana for assistance. But she’s frozen to the spot, guilt-ridden eyes locked on Camila’s.

“I—I’m sorry. We were just making food and…”

“We were just debating what to eat,” I cut in. “Your mother wanted to cook dinner and I tried to help, but she said she wanted to make something special, so…”

“I wish you would cook,” Camila says with an eye roll. “Mom says she can, but she’s not very good anymore. She’s not good at being anything. She’s definitely not good at keeping promises to her daughter like not embarrassing her.”

“Cami!” Diana scolds, but Camila ignores her mother and stomps away in frustration.

I expect another outburst from Diana, especially after seeing her explosive reaction to our conversation. Instead, she crumples against the marble counter, eyes watering.

“…can’t seem to do anything right…” I think I hear her murmur.

Emiliana walks over to her mother and takes one of her hands. “Mami. It’s okay. She didn’t mean it.”

Diana forces a smile at her youngest, runs her fingers through her wet hair. “I know, amor. I’m fine. Just… tired.”

And she is. I can tell. Because I am, too.

Besides the basic assumptions I’ve made through observations alone and everything we’ve talked about, we’re both struggling. Being a parent is no fucking joke. It’s thinking about another human being—a small, opinionated, delicate, means-everything-to-you human being—constantly. It’s about putting them before your personal life and work every single time. And while I’m devastated it took losing Jessie for me to get here, it’s also the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But it is fucking exhausting. And I realize I’m coming into this with no experience, so it would be normal to say that it’s hard. But to do it with two kids? One of which was just diagnosed with a serious medical condition, and you have no present second parent to help with the heavy stuff? I don’t know how she does it.

And it’s because I can appreciate to an extent what she’s going through that I say, “Why don’t you girls dry yourselves off while Diana finishes with the food and I help her set everything up?”

Quietly, they go back outside, heads hanging a little low.

“Thanks,” Diana murmurs. “I’m sorry I⁠—”

“No, I’m sorry⁠—”

She laughs and shakes her head, waving her hands in front of her. “Please stop.”

I press my lips together, trying not to smile, and nod once. “Okay.”

Diana heaves a huge sigh before meeting my gaze, the exhaustion in her eyes even more pronounced. “Listen, it’s clear that our girls are going to be friends for the rest of the summer. And I, for one, think that’s fantastic for them. I’m sure you’re happy Rachel has friends, too. So can we put aside the fact that we don’t like each other, and just have a truce?”

“I need to explain. I can’t let you⁠—”

Diana sighs heavily, dropping her face in her hands. “Please, Michael. You don’t need to explain. You don’t owe me anything. Just… truce?”

I want to say no. I want to go back to when we were arguing and tell her that I’m not that guy who runs away from responsibility. Not anymore, at least. That my whole thing with Rachel… Yes, it started off like that in a way. But it’s different. I was different.

Wasn’t I?

Guilt rears its head once more, my stomach dropping as I understand why it is that she bothers me so much. And it’s because every negative thing she’s said, every awful thing she’s probably thought of me, is what I feel deep down about myself sometimes. That I could’ve been there. I could’ve been Rachel’s dad from the get-go.

But then I think of the man I was then, and how much I would have let her down…

And I’m torn.