Page 74 of High

Manny

Cuddling a purring, tired Coco in the crook of my arm, I paced and dug my toes into the sand. I hadn’t been able to settle down to sleep without Thio, and while the guards were completely unwilling to allow me at the beach without an escort, they were at least keeping far enough back that I could pretend I was alone. The waves were dark and ominous, but I stood at the edge of the dry sand where the chilly water could bite at my toes. I stared out at the black, shifting mass of water, deadly and deep, and tonight I was at peace with it, the same way I had been most of my life.

The ocean was dangerous, and everyone knew it, but we’d always been friends. One of my first memories of doing anything I felt proud of was learning to ride waves and tame the water. I felt like I was coming full circle in so many ways.

Maybe it was because the worst had happened.

TíaRosa had been hurt.

She could have been killed, and that would have been worse, but this was bad enough. She was doing well, all things considered, and I’d personally helped her up the stairs in a wheelchair—which took some muscle—to her bed. There was a nurse who assisted her with her private needs, but it was me who had tucked her into bed tonight. She’d smiled and cupped my cheeks and kissed me on the forehead, though I’d had to lean down to allow her to do those things.

How many times had she done the same for me with a smile on her face and love in her eyes? How many times had she given me the same love she’d given her own sons, or maybe even more? I brought Coco up so I could cuddle my face in his soft fur and hear him purring in my ear, a living, content counterpoint to the rushing of the waves.

“Manny, what are you doing out here?” I turned as Thio’s voice carried on the breeze. His profile was stark against the lights at the back of the house, a masculine outline. I began to walk toward him. He stood at the edge of the lawn and waited, arms crossed, the same way he used to do when I was little and he was pretending to be angry with me. Never once was he actually upset. I didn’t stop until my toes bumped his, and I was about to say something silly, make some bad joke about him thinking I would drown even though I was the one who knew how to swim best, but the look on his face made my heart freeze.

His eyes were haunted, but he smiled at me as I stared up at him. He gripped my arms just a little too hard and pulled me in a little too tightly, which forced me to turn to the side so we wouldn’t squish Coco. When I tipped my head back for a kiss, he was sweet with me, going after a simple brush of our lips, but he kept our mouths pressed together for a long time without taking it further. He lifted away, a tear slid along his cheek, and I knew—Papá was dead.

He didn’t have to say it, and I didn’t ask.

My stomach crumpled and I gasped, nearly dropping Coco. He let out a sad little meow at his nap being interrupted, and I straightened up, cradling him close.

“I’m going to take him to my room.”

“You mean his playground? I peeked in your room first, thinking maybe you were mad I didn’t come home sooner and went in there to sleep.” He bumped my shoulder with his. “When did we get so many cat toys?”

I sniffed. “You were the one who gave me a credit card. He needs stimulation or he’ll tear the house apart.” I tried out my best smile on him but felt like we were on a stage with bright lights shining on us, going through the motions. All at once I hated that my expression was fake. He deserved honesty. I held onto my act, though. I would until we were truly alone.

“There’s stimulation and there’s three cat trees,” he said with good humor, but that horrible glint didn’t leave his eyes. He followed me as I took Coco back to my room and put him on my bed in the nest of soft blankets he preferred to his ridiculously huge kitty bed on the floor, which was also stuffed with soft blankets, but apparently not ones he liked. I kissed his fluffy little kitty cheek, stroked the long hair on the tips of his ears, and tickled his toes. He blinked at me and snuggled into his blankets, yawning.

“You’d be a good parent,” Thio said while I tickled Coco’s toe beans some more and put off the inevitable conversation. But did we honestly need to say it? I’d known it was coming from the second I saw Tía Rosa in her hospital bed. Tears burned at the corners of my eyes and I blinked them away. I wasn’t sure if I was crying for Tía or Papá, but she deserved tears and he didn’t.

“I like taking care of people,” I murmured. “I like taking care of you. Tell me one thing.”

His breath caught. “Yes?”

“You weren’t alone, were you?” I stroked the downy spot between Coco’s ears and felt the back of my throat clogging with the tears I refused to cry. “You shouldn’t have been alone… I mean, he meant something to you, just like Tío Luis meant something to me. You shouldn’t have had to deal with that alone.” My voice broke, and I didn’t turn toward him, just shoved my knuckles against my mouth and dragged deep gulps of air into my lungs. He pulled me closer until my back was plastered against his chest.

“No, I wasn’t alone.”

Turning in his arms, I looked up at him and ran my hands along the back of his neck. I tugged until he bent and dropped his forehead against mine. “Good.”

“How did you—”

“Because I know you, Thio. I know you, and I love you, and I’m not sorry it was him. It would have been you eventually, if it wasn’t him, and I need you.”

“You’re not mad?”

He stared all the way into my soul, and I shook my head carefully. “I don’t think this could have ended any other way. I’m a lot of things. Enraged about Tía Rosa, especially after what happened to my mother. Hurt because Papá decided that how scumbags thought about him was more important than what was left of our family. Sad. But I’m not sad about what happened. I’m upset about….” I shook my head, and some understanding softened his eyes a little, and it felt good to finally be talking about all the things I’d been keeping bottled up inside. “There are things that never were, and those lost chances at being a family are what I’ll mourn. Not Papá. Not the way you think. I haven’t had him for a long time.”

Thio tugged me against his chest and pressed his mouth to my temple, not really kissing me. His mouth caressed my skin, like he was maybe saying something, and eventually he moved back enough to repeat himself so I could hear.

“I love you. I love you more than I should. I love you more than anyone else in this world, Manny.” His breath brushed my cheeks and the tickle of heat made me feel good—alive.

“Me too. I love you.”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“Me too.” I wiped my palms over his eyes because they looked glassy, and I thought maybe he might be trying not to cry. “I know. I know, and me too, forever, Thio.”