“¡Feliz dĂa del padre!” The words came out of tired lips the second Rick picked up the call from his abuelita, a timely one since he’d just walked into the door of his quiet apartment. She raised him, and therefore she knew everything about him; even that he couldn’t see his daughter as often as he would like and a vague explanation of why. “Did you get to see Veronica and Candice today? Please tell me how they are?” She questioned, her thick New York accent making him miss being there with her, the male almost immediately lost himself in the silence of his hesitation.
He did get to see them today, but like every Father’s Day for the past six years, he’d left feeling a void he hated being unable to fill. The time he spent there, watching films, cooking, coloring and reading books with Veronica; those were the times he was at his happiest. He loved listening to any and every thing his daughter wanted to tell him about. The forty-year-old was adamant to hold himself up to something he’d always told himself: that he would always be there for his children and know everything going on with them, no matter the situation.
Their situation was less than simple, far less. But explaining it to their six-year-old was not feasible—but she knew what was important. That Rick biologically, and in all essential ways, was her father. Even if she had the surname of her mother alone, and the man her mother was married to claimed her as his own, she still knew that above everything else. Which was the only gratifying fact that kept the man from completely losing his mind from the circumstances. That, and a forced boxing routine.
“I went to see them for a while today, they’re both doing great.” He paced around his living room that was dim with only a small table lamp turned on. “Y’ know, Ronnie’s is getting really good in school, she’s great at reading, and she likes her teachers a lot.” He cleared his throat, knowing the next question was coming by the breath his maternal grandmother let out “La extraño. How is Candice? ÂżCuándo vas a casarte? Amo a mi nieta I just want more babies from you two ok?” Immediately he knew the woman that raised him for a large portion of his life heard the audible sigh.Â
Rick would have accepted if they were raising Veronica without wanting to be together, and just co-parenting, but want was not the reason they were in this setup. The love he felt for Candice existed long before they found out she was pregnant, but it only amplified over the years of them raising Veronica together; by him seeing how amazing of a mother she was. He’d already confided in his abuela that he wanted to marry her, that it was the only family he wanted, but now it was something she wouldn’t stop bringing up.Â
“¿QuĂ©? Don’t say to me that it’s complicated. You love each other so you get married. Es lo que tu madre querrĂa.” Her words, while well intended, were more commanding than advice giving; and any comment about his mother’s wishes generally sent a sharp pain through his chest. She wanted the best for him the same way his mother would if she were still around, and he loved Candice in ways that he didn’t think words or anything else could explain, but that didn’t make telling her father easier. It definitely didn’t make the threat of what he would do upon finding out less real. But it was starting to seem that the truth was coming out soon, and he had no idea what that would mean.
“Chacho,” He sighed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he continued to run his shoes along the rug in his hardwood living room. “Did you call me to wish me a happy father’s day or get lecture me about getting married?” He said in a lighter tone, attempting to ease the flow of the discussion. As their conversation went on, full of excuses and debates regarding the changes he needed to make in his life for his family, he stared at the drawing Veronica had given him that he’d placed on his sitting room table when he first got home. As he said his goodnights to the woman he’d lived with his entire life, even when his mother was alive, he took the drawing and placed it under a magnet on a fridge before he crawled himself into bed; already making his plans to go to the boxing gym and work out his frustrations first thing in the morning.Â