The hour was late. Emily knew it before she opened her eyes. The TV was still on. She could hear it: an old movie. It was something in black and white, something she’d seen before. She heard Bette Davis’s distinctive voice cutting through her dream causing her to wake.
She sat up on the sofa, slightly disoriented.
How long was I asleep? Where’s my son? What time is it?
“Riley?” she called out.
She fumbled on the coffee table, searching for the right remote control. She hit the power button and welcomed the sudden silence as the television screen went black. The only sound that remained was the soft whir of the ceiling fan above her and the ticking clock on the wall.
It’s already after midnight. Where are they? Should I be worried?
Emily stood and went to the window facing the apartment parking lot. She slid a finger between two blinds, separating them. The assigned parking space outside was empty. In the distance, the community swimming pool glowed like a neon ball of blue water and gold light.
They’re still not back yet.
She made her way to the kitchen, almost tripping over half-packed moving boxes en route.
Oh yeah. That’s right. We’re moving to Florida in a week. Who came up with that crazy idea?
Emily smiled at her impulsiveness. She filled the red teakettle with tap water, turned on a burner, and placed it on the fire. She reached for her cell phone on the kitchen counter.
It’s Mom. Where are you? Call me.
She sent the text and returned to the living room. Immediately, she flashed back to her conversation with Graciela Alvarez two days ago.
“Are you Mrs. Brewer?” the woman had asked when Emily opened the front door. The auburn-haired stranger was dressed in white from head to toe, even her scuffed shoes. At first, Emily thought she was a nurse, but the pink apron around her waist and the pink box she carried suggested she spent her days in a bakery of some kind.
“I used to be Mrs. Brewer,” she said. “I’m just Emily now. Can I help you with something?”
She prayed the petite round-faced woman wasn’t going to try to sell her something. Saying no was never her strong point.
Besides, whatever’s in that box smells really good.
“My name is Graciela Alvarez,” the woman said, as if it was supposed to mean something to Emily. When she saw that it didn’t, Graciela added, “I’m Victor’s mother.”
You’re Victor’s mother? That explains a lot. Lady, you and I couldn’t be more opposite.
“Oh,” said Emily. “Please come in.”
Graciela stepped inside cautiously as if something was going to jump out and attack her. She did a quick scan of the place. Emily watched her eyes dart and judge.
“I’m sorry to bother you but I need to speak to my son,” she said. “Here”—she shoved the pink bakery box into Emily’s hands—“those are for you.”
“Thank you,” said Emily. “I think Toro mentioned you worked at a bakery.”
“You must know my son very well, Mrs. Brewer.”
“Mrs. Alvarez, Toro’s been staying with us off and on for five months now. I thought you knew that. He said he told you—”
Emily’s unexpected guest got right to the point of her visit. “Where is he?”
“He isn’t here at the moment,” Emily explained. “Is everything all right?”
“No,” she said. “I want to know about your son.”
There was a sharp edge to Mrs. Alvarez’s tone that instantly put Emily on the defense. This was no polite social call. Clearly, there was an agenda. “My son? What about him?”
She looked Emily in the eye and asked, “What has he done to Victor?”
Emily was confused. “I don’t know what you mean exactly, Mrs. Alvarez.”
Graciela’s eyes narrowed. Emily could see the fire, the rage. There was a mean streak in Mrs. Alvarez. “My daughter told me things last night,” she said. “I don’t want to believe them. I need to know if it’s true.” She moved to the kitchen as if the apartment was hers. Emily followed. “Where is Victor?”
“He’s at school,” she said. “They both are. It’s not even noon.”
Graciela placed a hand on her hip and said, “My son doesn’t go to school.”
Emily gave a firm look and replied, “Actually, he does. I insist on it. Otherwise, he’s not allowed to stay here with us.” Emily reached for a piece of paper on the kitchen counter. She held it up in front of Mrs. Alvarez’s face. “Look,” she said. “This is a recent progress report. He currently has all Bs and one C. He hasn’t missed a day of school since February. He’s graduating in a few days.”
“Are you a teacher?”
“No,” Emily answered. “I’m a mother.”
Mrs. Alvarez moved past her and returned to the living room. “You let my son live here with you?” She took another look around and offered an expression of disgust. “In this little place? Where does he sleep?”
Of course she would ask me that question.
Emily took a breath before she spoke. “He and Riley share a room.”
Mrs. Alvarez took a step toward Emily. There was desperation in her eyes. “Is it true, what Alma says?” she asked. “Please tell me, Mrs. Brewer. It was very difficult for me to come here today. I have a job. And my husband is not well. I’m married to an idiot, if you want to know the truth.”
Emily put the pink bakery box down on the coffee table and said, “I think this is a conversation you should be having with your son.”
“I would if I knew where to find him,” she huffed.
“Have you tried calling him?”
Mrs. Alvarez shook her head. She was frustrated. She was a caged cat ready to claw the walls. “He doesn’t answer. I haven’t seen him or talked to him in almost three weeks. He’s turned his back on us. His own family. Do you know why? Is it because of your son? How come Victor doesn’t want to be with us anymore, Mrs. Brewer?”
“There’s no need to worry,” Emily assured her. “He’s fine.”
“No, he’s not,” she said. “He needs to be at home with his family, not here doing God only knows what with your son.”
She’s starting to piss me off. I knew I shouldn’t have called in sick to work today. Damn it.
“They haven’t done anything they should be ashamed of,” Emily said.
“Victor isn’t like that,” Mrs. Alvarez insisted. “I don’t know what you’ve done to him, but my son is not—”
“Gay?” Emily said. “You should probably get used to saying the word, Mrs. Alvarez.”
Anger flashed across the woman’s face. “How could you allow such a thing to happen in your home? What kind of a woman are you? Do you not believe in God?”
Now, she’s crossed the line.
“There’s nothing wrong with love. Or do you have something against it?”
“Of course not. I love my husband and my children very much.”
“Really?” Emily said. “I’ve been told you’re not a very affectionate woman. As a mother, it’s your choice how to raise your children. But given that you rule your children with fear and intimidation, are you really surprised your son would rather be here with us?”
“You and me don’t understand each other, Mrs. Brewer. Where is your husband? Maybe I should speak to him instead.”
“He’s probably at a bar picking up a cocktail waitress who’s half his age. So good luck with that.”
Mrs. Alvarez raised an eyebrow. “You’re divorced?”
Emily let out a sigh and said, “Happily.”
“So there is no man here?”
“There are two, actually,” said Emily. “One of them you gave birth to and raised. The other one I’ve done my best with.”
“And you see nothing wrong with what is going on?”
“Why should we, Mrs. Alvarez? It’s really not our business. It’s not our lives,” Emily told her. “They’re both seventeen. They’re adults now. Our job is done. Let’s both be thankful our sons have found someone in this world that loves them. I’m happy for Toro and Riley.”
“That isn’t love,” she said. “That’s a lie. It’s a sin.”
Emily didn’t waver. She locked eyes with Mrs. Alvarez and said, “Until you feel otherwise, I will let your son know he is welcome to stay here.”
Mrs. Alvarez turned on her heel and headed to the front door, throwing her words over her shoulder. “I’ll report you to the police,” she said. “He’s still a minor.”
Emily followed her to the door. “And what good will that do?” she asked. “Do you want to give them no other choice than to run away? I’ve spent time with them, Mrs. Alvarez. I see it every day. It’s a beautiful thing. The bond between them is unbreakable at this point. There’s nothing you or I or anyone else can say or do that’s going to keep them apart. That’s love.” Emily reached around Mrs. Alvarez and opened the door. “You know where to find us if you change your mind,” she said. “Thank you for the pastries.”
*
Emily had been fascinated by Toro from the moment she met him. He walked into their lives and they let him. He was exactly what they needed: an unexpected dash of urban energy in their otherwise safe, sheltered world. At first he only made appearances a couple of times a week, coming by to do homework with Riley or watch a movie. Soon, he was a permanent fixture in the apartment. He was always on hand to fix, carry, assemble. He bought groceries when he could, washed dishes without being asked, and made Riley smile. She was grateful for him.
Emily suspected his home life was less than perfect. A few weeks after he appeared on her doorstep, she made it her mission to get to know him better. After all, he was clearly her son’s best friend. They had become inseparable. They spent hours playing video games together, watching boxing matches on television, and having all-night action-movie marathons. Even though he’d brought so much happiness into their lives, she was still curious about who Toro was.
“Tell me about your family,” she said to him after muting the television. They were sitting on opposite ends of the sofa. A large bowl of popcorn sat between them. Riley was in the shower.
“Not much to tell,” he said with a shrug.
“Are you guys close? You and your parents?”
“No,” he said. “Not really. We’re not like you and Riley.”
“What does your mother do?” she asked.
“Besides boss everybody around? She works at a Latin bakery by our house. Mostly in the mornings.”
“And your father?”
“He wants to be a magician,” Toro explained. “But he works at the refinery. I think he hates his job.”
“I can relate,” she said. “I never imagined at my age I’d be answering phones and listening to classical music all day.”
“You want to do something different?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I do. I just have no idea what that is.”
“You’re really nice to let me stay here,” he told her. “If you ever want me to go—”
“I like having you here,” she said. “I appreciate how much you help out. And, I’ll be honest, I’ve never seen my son so happy. I’m glad he has you.”
“Yeah,” Toro said, “we’re pretty glad we have each other.”
There was something in the expression on his face that caused Emily to pause. Her radar went off. She could see it in his eyes, his smile, the glow in his cheeks.
Suspicious, she started to pay closer attention to the interaction between her son and this new boy/man who had become like family to them. The way they looked at each other, speaking silently with their eyes when they thought she was preoccupied, was an indication her theory was justified. Soon they were finishing each other’s sentences, sitting together like lovers, and laughing at inside jokes.
On the morning Toro stepped out of the bathroom with only a towel around his waist, she decided to confront him. They were standing in the narrow hallway. Drops of water trickled down his bare chest. Her words stopped him as he was about to enter the only bedroom in the apartment, the one he now shared with Riley.
I thought they were just friends.
Emily looked into his eyes and asked, “Are you sleeping with my son?”
He held her gaze and answered, “Yes.”
Emily watched as Toro turned away, walked into her son’s bedroom, and shut the door.
By impulse, Emily decided to discuss the fact that her son was gay with her coworker Chantrell. She was an African American woman who loved polka dots, going to church on Sundays, and anything composed by Vivaldi. They had lunch together five days a week in the windowless break room at the radio station. Without fail, Chantrell would bring a frozen entrée and salad with her every day. She’d put the entrée in the microwave and then wait patiently for it to be done. Every thirty seconds or so, she’d check her wristwatch as if she doubted the accuracy of the time display on the machine cooking her lunch. She’d sit across from Emily eating her food with a plastic fork, dipping each bite of salad into a small plastic container of fat-free salad dressing.
Chantrell was an eternal optimist, always seeing the bright side of things and the goodness in even their most vile coworkers. She was also the only person who worked at the radio station who was close to Emily’s age, or so she assumed.
“You’ve got such great skin,” Emily said the first time they sat down together at the same round lunch table. “How old are you?”
Chantrell smiled and said, “Old enough to know better than to answer that question.” She followed this with an infectious laugh that made Emily feel good about the world. It was like audio sunshine. “I’m old enough that half these folks in this place could be my children, but thank Jesus they aren’t.” She laughed again and immediately Emily decided Chantrell was her new favorite person.
Emily soon discovered Chantrell’s favorite phrase: I know that’s right. She said this emphatically every time she agreed with something. Sometimes, Emily found herself purposely trying to get Chantrell to say the words. Each time she did, it brought a smile to Emily’s face, as if she’d secretly won something. Her victories occurred daily at some point during their lunch break.
“I wish more people in this world knew what a brilliant composer Vivaldi was.”
Chantrell nodded. “I know that’s right.”
The following day, Emily tried it again. “Half the women in this office dress like streetwalkers.”
Chantrell raised her can of diet soda in a toast and said, “I know that’s right.”
After Toro admitted his relationship with Riley was a physical one, she felt the need to confide in someone, to seek advice on the best way to handle the situation. She had no other friends, no one else to talk to. At lunch, she turned to Chantrell and said, “You’re one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.”
Chantrell flashed her usual warm smile and said, “Thank you, Emily. That’s very kind of you to say.”
Emily took a breath before she continued. “I know you’re very devoted to the Lord. And I know you take the Bible very seriously. And I respect that very much.”
Chantrell’s inner light continued to shine. “I know that’s right.”
Emily treaded carefully, unsure of what Chantrell’s reaction would be. “So I hope what I’m about to share doesn’t upset you. I would never want to do that to you.”
Chantrell reached across the table, patted the top of Emily’s hand, and said, “Emily, you should know you can tell me anything. I think of you as a friend and not just a crazy coworker.”
Emily leaned in closer, not sure why she was concerned if someone overheard what she was about to say. “My son Riley…I think he’s in love,” she said, “with his best friend Victor.”
Emily could see it took a few moments for sweet Chantrell to process what she’d said. She blinked a few times, put down her fork, and dabbed at the corners of her mouth. Then she finally responded. “Well, are they happy?”
“Yes,” Emily said. “They’re very happy. And I’m happy for them.”
“Then why do you look so worried?” Chantrell asked.
Emily exhaled. “You don’t think I should be? I don’t want anything to happen to them. I know a lot of people disapprove.”
Chantrell pushed her lunch aside. “Let’s see…your son has straight As, five colleges offering him scholarships, and he’s destined for a career as a professional athlete. I’d say you did all right where he’s concerned.”
Emily wanted to cry. “Thank you, Chantrell.”
“But you…”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. You’re a newly divorced woman working as a receptionist at a radio station. You haven’t been out on a date since I met you. I know you’re struggling to get by because you eat crackers every day for lunch. Your ex-husband is engaged to a child. And half the people in this ridiculous place have a bet going to see how long it’ll take before you have a nervous breakdown. Don’t you think you’ve got other things to think about besides who your son is dating?”
Emily leaned back in her chair and said with a smile, “I know that’s right.” Chantrell gave her a strange look. Emily blushed and added, “It sounds so much better when you say it.”
That night, she sat Riley and Toro down at the kitchen table.
“I think we should talk about this,” she began.
“Talk about what?” Riley asked.
“About the relationship you and Toro are having.”
She could tell Riley was embarrassed. “Are you mad at us or something?”
“No,” she said. “Of course not. I just want everything out in the open. You know, all our cards on the table.”
“What would you like to know?” Toro asked.
“Are the two of you serious?” she asked. “Are you in love?”
They looked at each other and then at her. In unison, they answered. “Yes.”
Emily breathed deep. She stared into the faces of the two men at the table. She didn’t know why she’d even bothered to ask. The love between them was apparent and strong. Anyone could see that.
“I’m happy you found each other,” she said. She turned to Toro, then. “I’m happy you found us.”
“Mom,” Riley said, “are you gonna be okay with Toro staying here, still?”
“Yes,” she said. “But I want all of us to be honest with each other. No secrets. No blindsiding me anymore. You know what kind of a year I’ve had. I’m trying to make it to summer with my sanity intact. People at work are betting against me.”
“We’ll do whatever we can to help you,” Toro promised.
“You already do,” she said. “I know this place is small, but I think we’ve made the best of it. I appreciate that both of you do your part around here with cleaning up and fixing things. It makes my life a little easier. And,” she added, “it’s nice to come home to people I love at the end of a very long day.”
Later, when they thought she was asleep on the couch, she could hear them whispering in the kitchen. “Man,” Toro said, “I think your mom told me she loved me tonight when we were sitting at the table talking.”
“She does love you,” Riley said. “And so do I. You got a problem with that?”
“No,” said Toro, “it’s just, in my family we don’t say stuff like that to each other. We just go about doing our own thing, you know? My mom…she’s not like your mom. She’s not into talking out your feelings and giving hugs and stuff like that. I mean, she loves me and my sister and I think sometimes she even loves my father, but it’s different where I live.” Toro was quiet for a second as if he was thinking. Finally, he added, “I like this better. This is how I want to be. I’m sick of keeping all the messed-up stuff inside. It feels better to let it out, just like your mom says.”
“She knows what she’s talking about,” Riley told him. “You’ve never met my father, but if you do, you’ll understand what my mother had to go through for many years.”
“Is he that bad?”
“He’s an asshole.” This caused Emily to smile in the dark. “And his fiancée’s a whore.”
“Then I’m glad your mom left him,” Toro agreed. “Even though things are kind of rough for her sometimes.”
“To tell you the truth, I think she would’ve slept in the car if she had to, just to get away from him once she found out about Amber. She’s a lot happier now.”
Yes, I am.
Emily thought about getting up and hugging both boys. She wanted to make them pancakes and tell them how much she loved them. Instead, she closed her eyes and forgave herself for putting up with Martin Brewer’s bullshit for eighteen years.
You did the right thing. Even if you’re broke as hell and sleeping on a sofa until June, your happiness is what matters most.
Emily almost giggled. In her mind, she could hear Chantrell’s sweet, angelic voice telling her I know that’s right.
And it is. This might not be much…but it’s right.
*
Shortly before Riley left that night to meet Toro at the football field and convince him to join them on their journey to Florida, Emily asked her son point-blank, “Is Toro involved in a gang?”
The expression of shock on Riley’s face was the only answer she needed.
I knew it.
“Mom,” he said. “He wanted to tell you.”
“Then why didn’t he?” she asked.
“Because I convinced him not to.”
She gave her son a look of exasperation. “I thought we agreed no more secrets. Don’t you think I have a right to know about something like this? I mean, he’s living with us, Riley. He’s your boyfriend.”
“Yes,” he said. “We both wanted to tell you. I just didn’t want you to think less of him because of his past or because of where he comes from. He’s not a bad person.”
“Is he still in the gang?” asked Emily.
“No.” Riley was firm.
“So he’s not in any danger?”
Emily saw the flash of concern on her son’s face. “I don’t think so.”
“Are you sure?” she pushed.
“Why are you asking me this?”
“Because I’m not stupid, Riley. Something is going on around here. I can feel it.”
“His sister is pregnant,” he told her.
No wonder Mrs. Alvarez was such a nightmare to deal with yesterday.
“How old is she?”
Riley shrugged. “I don’t know. I think she’s like fifteen. But she got pregnant by a guy in a rival gang. Everyone hates her now. She lives in a basement.”
“Is she okay?”
“How would I know? I’ve never even talked to her.”
“Does Toro talk to her?”
“No,” said Riley. “And she just turned on him in a big way.”
“What do you mean?”
“She got kicked out of the house by her mom,” Riley explained. “I guess she was really pissed off and hurt because she told everybody about me and Toro. She told all of his friends he was gay. Even people from the gang.”
Emily felt like someone had kicked her in the ribs. “What?” she said. “You don’t think they’ll hurt him, do you?”
Emily feared the answer to her own question. Adrenaline started to surge through her veins. She’d sensed the element of danger surrounding them. She’d felt it in the air, tasted it.
“I hope not,” he said. “That’s why I’m glad you said he could come with us.”
Urgency swept over Emily. She wouldn’t be satisfied until Toro was back in her presence and under her care. Then she could protect him if she needed to. “We need to get him out of here,” she said. “Both of you.”
Riley nodded. “I know,” he said. “I’m on my way to tell him that now.”
She stopped her son just as he reached the front door. “Wait—how did Toro’s sister find out about you two? Did he tell her?”
“No,” he said. “She saw us…together.”
“Where?”
“At Mariya’s art studio. We hang out there sometimes.”
“And Mariya lets you? I mean, she knows you’re gay and is cool with it?” Emily asked.
“I’m actually going to see her before I meet Toro.”
“What for?” she asked.
“To tell her good-bye.”
Riley opened the front door. Outside, the night air still had a chill to it even though summer was right around the corner.
Emily kissed her son’s cheek and said, “That’s a word we’ve had to say a lot lately.” She looked into his eyes. She had to stop herself from crying when she realized he was no longer a child. She was staring into the face of a young man, an adult. “Go find him and bring him home,” she instructed. “Because I don’t want to say it anymore.”