Page 58 of Who's Loving You

Pain in my ass: Puppy dog eyes. Did it work?

Me: No.

Pain in my ass: Would it change your mind if I told you Chase is going to ask Lucy to go?

Me: Traitor

Pain in my ass: We’ll barely even see one another. I have a Saturday night curfew and we leave right after the game. Basically it’s dinner and a kiss at the game.

Me: No kissing.

Pain in my ass: Lots of kissing. Please come. I have another surprise for you.

Me: Stop with the gifts.

Pain in my ass: Never. I’ll tell Chase to buy Lucy a ticket on the same flight as you. Friday night okay?

Me: Gosh you’re annoying.

Pain in my ass: You kill me with your kind words. See you Monday night for our home game. Wear something sexy.

Me: I’ll wear a paper bag.

Idrop my head, banging it on my desk with a huge sigh. This is the part of the act that I was hoping to avoid. And though Nic’s family has been informed of our “relationship”, I was hoping to get out of this scot free without my family ever being aware.

How foolish am I.

My nails rap on the cool surface, literally drumming up the courage to make the phone call that is sure to ruin my entire day. Possibly week.

I pop an earbud, open my phone and hover a trembling finger over her name. “Quit being a little bitch,” I mutter, giving myself a quick pep talk. I don’t do theyou can do this, stay positiveshit. I treat everything as a transaction, only taking and putting in what I need.

The phone begins ringing in my ear and I leave my phone resting on my desk as I stand and begin pacing my office. My heels click against the tile and fade when I stop in front of the large windows, staring out onto the city that feels more like home than my actual home ever did.

“Hola,” a voice greets. “¿Valentina?”

My eyes blink and I clear my throat, somewhat relieved that it’s my dad who answers. “Hola Papá. ¿Cómo estás?”

“Bueno, hermosa. Te extraño, mija.” My Papá’s tone is thick with emotion and it brings on a lump in my throat.

“I miss you too, Papá. How are you feeling? Albatold me you were sick last week.” I do admit that I am distant and somewhat guarded when it comes to emotions and relationships –intimate and friendly– but the health and happiness of my parents is the one thing that gets me to crack.

So when Alba called, saying Papá was taken to the hospital because he had passed out, my immediate thought was of him with tears in his eyes the last time I visited. He hugged me a little tighter and kissed my cheek a little longer. It felt like our last goodbye, but I knew it was because my visits are so few and far between, and never long enough for them.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Esmerelda and Alba are so warm and friendly and couldn’t imagine living more than a couple hours away from our parents. But thatfamily is everythinggene skipped right over me. It’s as if all my wires didn’t get connected, leaving loose ends –and feelings– hanging in the void.

“Estoy bien, Valentina. You know I don’t drink enough water, and I was just dehydrated. I guess spending so much time in my garden wasn’t a good idea.”

“Papá. Menos cerveza y más agua.” He enjoys a cold beer every now and then, but I love jabbing him. “Alba said you hit your head, so I don’t call that fine.”

“Mi hija. Sí, pero es solo un pequeño corte.”

“A small cut is still a cut. With your medication, you must be more careful. Promise me you’ll take care of yourself? Take breaks and drink water.” I emphasize my words to make my point stick.

“Promento.” He promises and I push away my fears.

“¿Dónde está Mamá?” It’s time to get this over with so I can return to my day and try to salvage what is left after she lays into me.

“Aquí. Esparar.” He brings the receiver to his chest and shouts, “Paloma,” forgetting that the sound is amplified.