“You’re in love with her.”

“I’m committed to Aviva.”

“You love Aviva. You’re in love with Shenar.”

“Are you saying I should have married someone I was in love with, rather than someone I love?”

Jason shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t tell you which marriage would be better. I can only tell you who you love and how you love them.”

“I’m not planning on professing my love for Shenar. I’m going to...”

Tomás faltered and dropped his eyes below his father’s scrutiny.

“You will make no headway with her until you make love to her.”

Tomás glanced at his father and snickered. “That’s pretty sexist advice. I can just imagine what Shenar would make of that.”

“I’m not talking about all women.” When Tomás looked back at his father, Jason said, “Just Shenar. That’s her way of relating to the world. That’s the only way you’ll understand...”

Tomás waited. He wasn’t sure whether Jason was expecting him to supply the word or whether Jason was considering how Tomás might react.

“...her.” Jason looked down and turned toward the kitchen. “Just her. If you want to understand her. Coffee?”

Tomás followed his father into the kitchen. He watched Jason’s muscles flex across his back through a variety of precise tasks, watched his father’s head follow the movement of his hands. He wondered what his mother’s hands felt when she embraced him as his was moving inside her.

“It’s just her. It’s the way she is. You’ll understand her. She’ll understand you. You’ll both understand why you’re in love with...” Tomás hung on the pause, “...you’ll know what to do about it. If you...” another pause, “get inside her.”

Tomás reacted to “get inside her” as though his father, or Frank, had said “fuck”.

He took a cup from his father. “French Roast. Shenar likes coffee.” What was he supposed to understand from this? That his father thought it was all right to betray someone you were married to? He remembered his promise to himself, when Shenar had glittered with the silent, secret pact between them. Frank was dead, but he, Tomás, was not free. He didn't want to be free. Not from Aviva. Aviva was easy. Not easy like Shenar. Easy to build a life with. Easy to go on with. Shenar was Frank’s. And Bob’s and his dad’s. Shenar belonged to just about everyone who’d ever looked cross-eyed at her. That wasn’ his idea of someone to hang on to, no matter how well they fit together. He and Aviva had good sex. They had excellent sex. And, anyway, sex wasn’t everything. He wasn’t sorry he was married. He was sorry Frank was dead. He wasn’t sorry he and Shenar had...done...whatever it was they did that evening. And he wasn’t sorry it hadn’'t worked out. It had worked out. It had worked out for the best. She had rejected him. He’d gone home to Aviva. Him and Aviva. Shenar and...

Jason raised his cup to Tomás, looked him in the eye. “She’s very particular about her coffee.” He looked away. “Loving a woman like that,” Jason shook his head and turned back toward the den, “letting her love you, don’t deny yourself.”

Tomás realized he already had. Denied himself. Because he hadn’t been able to wait. That was fine. He never wanted to wait again.

His father was wrong. Tomás placed his cup on the counter and left his father’s house.

Text & Graphics © 1999 by Gail Rae Hudson

Background by