Page 49 of Switch Hitter

More silence, longer this time, and my heart doesn’t race. My hands don’t shake. Because I’ve done this before, just not really with someone I care about this much.

Finally, she says, quietly, “¿Un hombre?”

“Yes,” I answer.

Then, very softly, she says, “¿Él te trata bien?”

My throat tightens.

“Sí,” I say, my voice coming out rough. “He’s… he’s not out, so he’s nervous, but he’s good to me.”

My mom hums, a sound like a prayer.

“Entonces,” she says, “trátalo con cariño.”

I close my eyes.

“Siempre,” I promise.

“And bring him,” my mother adds, like she’s deciding it right now. “Quiero conocerlo.”

I laugh, not in the least bit stunned. “Mamá⁠—”

“¿Qué?” she says, offended. “Si tú lo quieres, yo quiero verlo.”

My chest feels too full.

“Okay,” I say quietly. “I’ll talk with him and get it figured out.”

When we hang up, I sit there for a moment with my phone in my hand, staring at the ceiling. And I think about Sean and how his fear wants to eat him alive. About how different our families are and how similar our faith is.

How he thinks love has to hurt to be holy—and that’s when the idea hits me.

I open our text thread again.

Emiliano

Okay hear me out. You guys will be in NYC this weekend playing the Yankees.

Three dots appear immediately.

Sean

Okay…

Emiliano

Come meet my family while you’re here. I’ll fly out the next day for Texas, but we can have that evening together.

Let it be practice for telling your family the following weekend.

He doesn’t respond right away, and I can imagine him panicking.

It’s a lot, so I soften it just a little.

Emiliano

We’ll tell my mom and sisters you’re my boyfriend.