Page 10 of American Sweethearts

Checking myself again, I held up my camera, desperately trying to get out of my very unhelpful thoughts. “We shoulddocument this occasion. Before the very first one of the GA crew gets officially hitched.”

That got a laugh from the group and they started posing right there in the lanai, but Camilo, who always had to have a say, shook his head and pointed toward the water. “Let’s do it with our backs to the water, so we get the view.”

The other three all shook their heads and griped about Camilo’s bossiness, but made their way to the exact spot their friend had indicated.

We all shuffled out of the shaded refuge and stepped out into the afternoon sun. Out of nowhere, an image of me lying on a chaise with J’s head between my legs almost made me drop my camera.

“Shit.” I sounded as flustered as I felt, while trying to adjust the lens for the picture.

“Prima, you all right? This sun is killing us.” That was Nesto.

“Sorry, here we go on the count of three.” I got a few weird stares for spacing out, but I kept it moving. I felt a twinge of resentment at their surprised looks. Once again, I felt burdened by the expectation that I was made of steel or something. That everyone around me could falter or fall apart, but somehow I could never have a misstep, a moment of doubt. I looked down for a second, trying and failing to shake whatever this was off, and when I glanced up, Juan Pablo was looking right at me. The intensity in his eyes telling me he sensed something was wrong.

I flexed my shoulders and made a show of adjusting the camera. “Here we go.” I took a moment to look at them, the boys I’d grown up with, now men. Handsome, successful…happy men. It was almost overwhelming to see them all standing there, so much history. I took a couple of shots as their partners and lovers looked on, the mixture of adoration and possessive pride all over their faces.

Right as I brought the camera down, Juanpa caught my gaze and held it. There was too much there for me to process. I knew we were thinking the same thing: this was the end of an era. Our friends were all stepping into their future. Juan Pablo and I were getting left behind.

I wondered if I’d ever find someone that got me like Juanpa did. I knew it would be impossible for anyone else to understand what my family and my people meant to me, because at the end of the day…my people were his.

ThatI could never get with anyone else, the shorthand of so many years knowing each other as we did. I’d thought more than once that the history we had was part of what made it so hard for us to work. I’d always felt a little caged in by the family in my business, the meddling. But as I stood there, feeling the love that surrounded us and would always lift us up, I wondered if embracing all this was a better approach than trying to contain it.

chapter seven

priscilla

I wouldn’t ever have to imagine what a fairy-tale wedding looked like. I was in one.

It was a small wedding; less than a hundred people. I sat in the second row of comfortable chairs lined across the white sandy beach. The sun was lower in the sky and the breeze coming from the ocean made for a pretty perfect moment.

“This is quite spectacular,” Easton whispered from the seat next to mine. On my other side were my mom and dad, and right in front of us was Patrice’s mom.

“It is,” I agreed, as I took in the scene. The event planner, a high school friend of Tom’s, had outdone herself. She’d built a small canopy, under which Tom and Camilo would say their vows. It was covered in what must have been thousands of white and green orchids. And to the side was a music quartet playing instrumental versions of old merengue. After a moment, they began playing a more solemn piece and Tom’s mom and dad came down the aisle, looking like royalty and beaming at all the onlookers.

“It’s perfect.” I didn’t mean to sigh, but it was hard to resist getting a little maudlin. I’d never wanted any of this for myself. I still didn’t; my idea of a happily ever after had never involved a wedding dress or a white picket fence. But bearing witness toone of my dearest friends getting his own version of a happily ever after was beyond special.

“God, she’s so cute.” I smiled distractedly at my mother’s comment then looked over to see Tom’s six-year-old daughter Libertad walking toward the front, a little red cushion holding the weddings bands.

That was something else I didn’t want: children. I’d never envisioned domesticity for myself, which had not been exactly an easy sell for my Dominican parents. I was their only child and I knew they’d always dreamed of getting to do this. Of seeing me walk down the aisle and stand up with the person I loved.

Juan Pablo and I would laugh, wondering how we’d break it to our parents that there would most likely be no wedding or grandkids, at least not from us. The rustling of people moving in their seats and Easton’s gasp got my attention back on the proceedings, and my eyes landed on the guys who were walking in that easy rhythm of people who were used to making space for each other.

They were wearing pastel blue linen Cuban guayaberas with gray slacks and leather sandals, with Ayako, Camilo’s work wife, heading up the line in matching blue linen romper. They all looked sun kissed and handsome; fades fresh, breads trimmed. They could’ve been a destination wedding fashion shoot.

Tom’s side came up after, with Priya, one of his best friends, wearing the same romper as Ayako but in a golden yellow, her arm linked with her husband Sanjay’s. Behind them, Tom’s other best friend and his brother walked along, smiling in their yellow chacabanas—the Dominican equivalent of the guayabera, minus the intricate embroidery on the sides. Tom followed them and, after a minute, Camilo came up with his mother.

There was a collective gasp on our side when we saw the two of them beaming as they made their way to the canopy. Seeing Camilo and Dinorah glowing had us all in tears. I looked up andsaw that Juanpa and the guys were doing their best to hold it together while Ayako was trying, and failing, to blot her mascara as tears ran down her face. Tom’s face was the definition of adoration as he stood on the tip of his toes, clearly holding back from running down the aisle. The rest of us could disappear and he would not even notice, all of his attention on his beloved.

After Camilo got to the front and hugged Dinorah, all of us were ready to lose our shit. But when Milo walked up to Tom and the older man enveloped him in a tight embrace and mouthed “I love you,” with such intensity he could barely get the words out, there was not a single dry eye in the place.

There would be no judge, gay marriage not being legal in the DR. Tom and Milo had already made it official in New York City. This was the celebration of their love they wanted to share with all of us. Tom’s dad stood up to say a few words in English and Spanish about Tom and Milo and we all settled in to hear the vows.

Tom told Camilo about the ways his love had changed him for the better. How for the first time in his life, he felt like he could step into all the parts of who he was without fear. And Camilo reciprocated by telling his man that because of Tom’s love, he was finally able to trust that he deserved the fairy tale he always yearned for, but never thought he would get.

As Camilo and Tom made promises to each other about forever, I glanced at Juan Pablo and found him looking at me. Each time the intensity in his gaze almost made me jump in my seat.

What was he looking for, looking at me like that?

I wondered if this new Juan Pablo I’d been seeing glimpses of all week wanted something different. If he wanted something more “normal” than the low-key shared apartment we’d dreamt about as teens. I couldn’t tell. He looked at me with a mixture of longing and hope I couldn’t quite decipher. As Milo and Tomfinished their vows and then ended the ceremony with a swoon-worthy kiss, we all whooped and cheered. With that, the first notes of Celia Cruz’s “La Vida es un Carnaval” sounded across the beach and we all headed up to where the reception to end all receptions was waiting for us.