Page 51 of Fruit
CHAPTER TEN
“Wow. Guys, this is…perfect,” I say, looking around.
The house Iván and Isadoro have taken me to is shabby and unkempt. The paint on the walls is peeling, there’s an ominous stain on one of the ceilings, and it smells like mildew.
It thrums with potential.
Open, airy rooms with wooden floors. Large windows let in clear, clean sunlight. The forest outside is a murmur of green. There’s space to breathe here.
“Right? I mean, it’s taken us a year to find it, but…” Iván looks out the window, where Isadoro is facing the side of the house, eyes a little unfocused as if he’s already making plans.
“It’s perfect,” I say again. Iván grins at me, and I can see the depth of his happiness. It looks a little like fear and hope and, as he looks at Isadoro, love.
The house is officially theirs, and we order some takeout to eat on the floor, the windows thrown open. Isadoro keeps getting distracted by the house, running a finger across the floor.
“These don’t even have to be replaced,” he says, tapping on one of the hardwood panels. “We can sand and varnish them. And I’m thinking a porch would be nice outside. We should plant a tree, too, watch it grow. We can get a tire-swing when it’s big enough…”
Iván just smiles at him, nodding along. “And now we can get a dog,” Iván says. Isadoro grins.
“Yeah.” They look at each other. I smirk, clearing my throat.
“Should I leave you two alone for a sec, or…” I tease. They roll their eyes, but they look the happiest I’ve ever seen them.
“Speaking of pets,” Iván transitions unsubtly, “How’s that shared custody thing going with the…what was it…cat-stealing bastard?”
“You know his name is Sebastián and it’s going fine,” I say. Isadoro and Iván look at me expectantly. “What?” I say defensively.
“Iva. You’re co-parenting a cat with him,” Iván says.
“And volunteering at his youth club,” Isadoro adds.
“And going to his every Saturday.”
“And you should see your face when you talk ab—”
“All right, shut up,” I cut them off. “What’s the big deal? We have fun. I like hanging out with him. Are you guys jealous that I’ve made a new friend or something? ’Cause, let me tell you, there’s enough of me to go around.”
Isadoro and Iván share a look. “Friend,” Isadoro says flatly.
I’m not stupid. I know where they’re going with this. I just don’t want to think about it right now.
“Yep. And if you don’t shut up, I’m going to force you to watch a fifteen-minute video of Nina I recorded.”
“Jesus, are you filming a documentary?” Iván says, thankfully dropping the subject of Sebastián and if we’re friends or—
Or.
“Nina is a genius and deserves to be narrated by David Attenborough.”
“No offence, but remind me to take a long vacation if you have a kid.”
“None taken. I’m going to be a nightmare and fully accept that…a little bit like Isadoro with this house, I think,” I say, and Iván turns his head to see Isadoro staring at the wall, food forgotten.
“Maybe we can panel one of the walls with wood…or round slabs of wood…” he’s muttering to himself.
Iván shakes his head, but his smile is fond all the way through.
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