“The laundromat?”
“Yeah, downstairs. One of my cousins had a place over his bodega. Looked like a storeroom with a mattress on the floor. But that’s never been your style.” He glanced at the closet. “Nice car, fancy shoes. Didn’t run away from everything, did you?”
Nathan ignored the criticism. He wasn’t a teenager with an allowance anymore. He had brokerage accounts and a financial advisor, which meant he didn’t have to justify his spending habits to his father. “Why are you here?”
“I was driving by and saw your car outside. Figured I’d say hello.”
“I’ve lived here for eight years. You’ve never stopped by before.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, well, I never had cancer before either.”
Nathan couldn’t argue with that. They sank into an awkward silence, both at a loss for what to say next. “Do you want to sit down?” Nathan asked. “Have a drink?”
“A drink would be nice.” Beto paused and added, “Thank you,” like he’d been invited to a tea party.
Nathan walked into the kitchen and hesitated. “Uh… water?”
“Booze, Nathaniel.”
“Right.” Nathan grabbed a bottle of bourbon and poured generously.
“What’s all this? You taking pictures now?” Beto was staring at the photos. Nathan wasn’t sure if his father knew Rachel well enough to recognize her twenty-year-old self.
“Just doing a favor for a friend,” Nathan said, handing over the drink.
His father took a sip and sat on the couch. “Lady friend?”
Nathan sat and did his best not to look at the photos. “It’s a woman, yeah.”
“Amazing how helpful we are when there’s a pretty girl involved.” Beto settled into the couch and crossed his legs. It was jarring for Nathan to see his father relax in his living room. Beto always seemed guarded, like he could never trust a good thing to stay good. This version, with his easy smile, was a stranger. “Did I ever tell you how I met your mother?”
Nathan sipped his drink before answering. “I think Mom told us about it once.”
Beto waved his hand. “That’s her story. I never told you mine.”
“Is there a difference?”
“When two people fall in love?” Beto smiled that crooked smile everyone said was identical to Nathan’s. “Always.”
According to Sofia, Beto was the opposite of the man she thought she’d marry. He was cocky and arrogant, two unattractive traits to his mother, who was admittedly vain and wanted all the attention. When Beto finally proposed, too soon and with an enormous princess-cut ring that she hated, it took a while for her to say yes. “Not because I didn’t want to. But because I knew I would say yes to everything after. It’s frightening to love someone that much.”
“She was dating someone else when we met,” Beto said. “Nelson something. White guy with big teeth. I think they were veneers, but she swears to this day they were his. She had this guy ready to propose. But one look at them together and I knew she wasn’t in love with him.” Beto drained the last of his bourbon and tapped the glass. “You have any mezcal?”
“No, just this and beer.”
“I should have taught you how to keep a bar.”
Beto continued his story, recalling how they had met in Miami, on the set of Sofia’s telenovela. The CEO Beto was courting for a merger was a fan of the show, and Sofia played his favorite character, Lourdes Santana, the red-lipped femme fatale. Beto got backstage access to win him over. “She comes out—you know your mother—she’s wearing this sheer robe.” He chuckled, and nodded his thanks when Nathan handed him another drink. “Beautiful body. An hourglass, with huge—”
“Dad, no.”
“Sorry. You get it. She was gorgeous. And I wanted her.” He took a deep breath. “It was her eyes. You could fall into those eyes, right? Never stop, just keep going.” He glanced at Nathan and cleared his throat. “We walk into her dressing room, and there’s this guy in the corner holding her purse. Now, I’m all for gender equality, but seriously. He’s holding her purse. A woman like that, it’s not where your hands should be.”
Nathan shuddered. “Please move on.”
Beto paused to drink before continuing. “This next part I’m not proud of. Your mother had every right to knock me on my ass. But as everyone’s saying goodbye, I pull her away from him. I’d never do that shit now. It’s classless. But she was getting away from me and I couldn’t let that happen. She looked up and—” His voice caught, and he looked at his fingers. “Those goddamn eyes.”