Page 80 of The Final Rose

“Can’t you date in secret for a while?” Dario wants to know and Ben slices him with a look. My younger brother lifts his hands upunder Ben’s frown. “Hey, it’s not like I’m suggesting for her to be a dirty little–”

“Callie won’t be anyone’s secret.” Ben decrees.

A faint start of a smile comes to my lips. “Not for all the honorable reasons that Ben is thinking about. But that wouldn’t work.” I sigh. “The press will be on top of Sebastian for the months to come. All they want to know is if he’s still with the winner. It’s asking to be caught.”

For a couple of minutes, the Sosa children stare at nothing. I hate how well I explained this predicament. I wait for Dario to shout another silly suggestion or for Ben to give me an honorable solution. I stay there, wrapped in hope, waiting for my brothers to come up with a way out, but they never do.

It’s not that I haven’t thought of leaving it all behind and setting my career on fire. In the days since I saw Sebastian last, it was all I thought about. I could give everything up because at the end of the day, what I really want is to be happy.

Sebastian became an important part of my happiness, that much I can’t deny. But I’m a whole person. I need my family, my friends, my hobbies, my silly ways to entertain myself and I need my career, too. I can’t leave it all behind and expect it to work between us.

We need to be two distinct people who want to be together, but if I self-destruct, what’s left of me to love him?

“Come home with us,” Ben pleas.

I’m already shaking my head, but he interrupts me. “You’re hurt. Your place is home.”

And he’s right. I’m not doing myself any favors by staying away. I need my family right now, more than I ever did.

The storm outside has passed finally, and I go to my room to pack a bag. Dario suggests for me to take a shower and while I flip him off, I know he’s right. Mom is going to skin me alive if she sees me in this state.

They drive me home afterwards. I sit between them on the truck’s bench, feeling small as Ben negotiates the streets to our old and reliable neighborhood.

The sun is shining when Ben parks in front of our house, erasing any memories of the storm we left behind. I leave my bag for them to bring and open the small gate at the front. Mom’s flowers are to my left. Dad is a gardener. He insists on pristine flowers but says they are all for Mom.

Instead of going through the house, I keep to the little pathway to the backyard. As I turn the corner, I see big colorful sheets hung to dry in the unexpected sun. They dance with the breeze, and I hear mom’s humming.

She has a basket of wet clothes beside her knees, a bunch of pegs secured to an apron as she takes one by one to fix the clothes on the washing line.

I smile when she sees me. Dad’s shirt on her hands never makes it to the line. A huge smile splits her face. Age lines in the corner of her eyes are the only proof the years have passed.

“Mija,” she sighs. “You’re home.”

And I go to her. Thank God I’m home.

22.

Callie

“Don’t you dare takethose boots off, Dario!” I warn, pointing at his hands hovering over the laces of the said boots.

“Excuse me?! I can’t wear my work boots at home!”

“It will stink the whole house!” I gasp, but he’s already doing it.

Weeks of living at home only proved that children should leave their parents’ house. Mom fed me more than it was necessary, while she checked on my forehead like I was truly sick. She called me pale and fed meajiaco, but since I refused to tell her the truth, my mysterious illness persisted.

And Ifeelsick. I need a reason to be parked on her couch, arguing with Dario like we are teenagers again, and sickness is the perfect answer to all my prayers.

“Oh, God!!” I gag once the boots are removed. “I’m telling Dad on you!” I screech, taking my blanket with me when I remove myself from the seat.

“It’s a gazillion degrees outside, Callie.” Dario points out, bringing his foot up on the coffee table.

“Thanks for the weather report, pinhead.”

“Why the hell are you walking like a burn victim with that blanket?”

Mom comes from the kitchen to save me, her gaze loving. Her cool palm checks my forehead once more in such a soothing motion, I almost purr.

---