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He’s a lady killer too. I guess it is genetic.
“Yes, it is.” I hold the bag out toward him. “I hope you like it. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got you a few things.”
Leo takes the bag from me, heavy and unwieldy enough that it’s hard for him to keep up off the ground. “Thank you. Can I open it?”
“I think that’s up to your mother,” I say and give her the same batting of the eyelashes.
Isabella’s distance melts and she laughs. “Oh God, I’m –” Totally fucked, I bet is what she’d like to say. “Of course, sweetie, let’s go sit down.”
What follows is almost as good as Christmas. Leo takes out each gift with an open-mouthed smile, looking to his mom in shock, then to me like I’m…
I won’t cry.
Once the last present is out of the bag, Leo stacks up his haul on the coffee table in perfect order, making sure all the corners are squared. He lets out a satisfied sigh and then says, “Wow. I didn’t expect this.”
My mouth quirks to the side.
“That was far too generous, Rex,” Isabella says.
“Ah, he’s making up for lost time,” Marisol adds, ruffling Leo’s hair as she passes by to refill my mug of coffee.
Isabella and I both freeze. Evidently, Marisol either forgot Isabella’s plan or didn’t know it to begin with.
“Lost time?” Leo asks. “What’s that mean?”
Marisol wanders off to the kitchen, ignoring the question, unapologetically leaving Isabella and me to deal with the fallout.
“Um, well, carino,” Isabella says, taking her son’s hand and pulling him back toward her spot on the couch. “Sometimes, things keep us from being a part of things we’d like to be a part of. Or doing things we’d like to do.”
“Like how you go to work at the hospital?” Leo asks.
“Yes, exactly. When I get home and I see you and I give you all the kisses you don’t want me to give you, I’m making up for lost time,” Isabella says, then pinches Leo’s cheek.
Leo ducks away, laughing. “Mami…”
The feeling of fullness abates ever so slightly. I am overwhelmed with joy and yet…
I have a child but I don’t have someone to share it with. Not in the way we all imagine when we’re children, the way we learn from the world around us.
Isabella doesn’t either. But the way she interacts with Leo makes it clear that he fills every part of her.
And she did it alone.
I want to disappear.
“So, when Abuelita says that… uh…” Isabella lifts her eyes to meet mine. “Rex is making up for lost time, it’s because…”
I give her a subtle nod. Tell him. It’s time.
Isabella takes a shaky, deep breath. Her eyes are glistening. “Well, I’m your mama. And Rex is your papa.”
Leo doesn’t reply, instead cranes his head over his shoulder to smile at me.
“You understand, Leo?” Isabella asks.
“Yeah, I do,” he replies.
I realize I’ve been gnawing on my lower lip this whole time. If I’m trying to make a good impression as Leo’s father, I’m failing at looking confident.
