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“Ethan?”
Juan said in greeting. “What are you doing here?”

“Visiting
for a few days.” He rose from his seat to give his youngest brother a hearty
hug and pound on the back.

“You
scared me,
cabrón
,” Juan said, slapping Carlos on the head. “I thought
someone broke into the house again.”

“
Again
?”
Ethan sat down hard in his chair. “What happened, Mamá? Were you hurt?
Threatened? Robbed?”

“Is
nothing,” she insisted. “Sit, sit,” she said to Juan. “I have enough for you.”

Juan
sat and watched Mamá fix him a pork soft taco. He was old enough to live on his
own, yet the woman still babied him.

“It
is
something,” Ethan insisted. “And I want details. It’s like I moved to
LA and everyone forgets I’m part of this family.” If he wasn’t satisfied that
his mother would be safe here by herself, he would find a way to convince her
to move.

“Non,”
she said, “is nothing, mijo. Carlos gave me gun. It will not happen again. I’m ready
this time.”

Imagining
his tiny mother fighting off hardened criminals with a pistol did not put Ethan
at ease.

“You
should get a dog, Mamá,” Juan said. “A big ol’ Rottweiler.”

“Or
one of you should stay with her permanently,” Ethan said.

“Us?
Why not
you
?” Carlos asked, pointing at Ethan.

“Because
I have a life in Los Angeles.” Duh.

“And
we have lives here,” Juan said around the food in his mouth.

“What
about Miguel? Ra
ù
l? Pedro? Arturo?” But that wouldn’t
work unless Miguel quit his job, Raul and Pedro dropped out of school, and
Arturo was discharged from the air force. Maybe Ethan did need to step up here.

“I
don’t want any of my boys to give up happiness for me,” Mamá said, making Ethan
another soft taco even though he was stuffed.

Of
course she would say that; almost any mother would put her children’s happiness
before her own. But did she mean it? Wasn’t she afraid to stay there by
herself? Or maybe she was more afraid of change. Or did she really believe that
Pap
á
would come back only if she stayed?
Ethan had come to clear the way for his life with Trey and Reagan, but his
mother’s safety was more important at the moment.

“Mamá,
you know it’s more likely that you’ll be killed by your own gun than you’ll successfully
defend yourself with it,” Ethan said, hoping statistics would make her see how
foolish she was being.

“I
will not . . . how you say?” Her brow wrinkled with
concentration. “
Suicide
myself.”

“That’s
not what I meant,” Ethan said, though that oft-spouted statistic did include
gun-related suicides. “Accidents happen all the time.”

“I
will not accident myself either.” She began removing dishes and leftovers from
the table with angry huffs and jerky motions. She snatched a half-finished taco
out of Juan’s hand and threw it into the trash. When Mamá was upset, Mamá
didn’t feed anyone.

“Go
now,” she said as she scoured a plate in the sink. “It’s past time for bed.”

“I’ll
get the dishes, Mamá,” Ethan said.

“I
said go,” she snapped.

“You
want me to leave too?” Ethan said. “I came all this way to see you.”

“Yes,
you go. I’ll show you. I’ll show you all I am not weak. I am not afraid. This
is
my
home. No one will take it from me.”

Ethan
tried to take the sponge out of her hand, but she slapped at him.

“I
say you go,” her English slipping in her outrage. “You go now.”

“Mamá,
don’t be mad.”

She
narrowed her eyes at him. “Do not treat me like child. Or helpless old woman.
You go. I mean this, Ethan. Go.”

“You
can crash at my place,” Carlos said.

What
choice did he have? He could sleep in a baby blue Bug in the driveway, he
supposed, or stay at a hotel, but he wanted to spend time with his family. He
didn’t want to leave his mother angry. It took a lot to infuriate her, but she
held onto her ire for a long time. He knew if he didn’t obey her, she’d become
completely irrational. It was better to leave and let her cool off than stay
and fuel her fire. He was certain she’d be more rational in the morning.

“I’ll
come see you tomorrow, Mamá,” he said, kissing her cheek even though she stiffened
and leaned away from him. “Will you feed me?”

“You’re
not that lucky,” she said.

Ethan
watched her scrub another dish, sorry that he’d upset her. “I don’t think
you’re incapable of taking care of yourself,
Madre
. I’m just worried
about you. Sleep well.” He forced another kiss on her and then followed his
brothers out of the house.

“Don’t
forget to lock up,” Carlos hollered just before Juan pulled the door shut.

The
three of them stood listening to the various locks being set before they were
satisfied.

“Want
to head to Oak Hills?” Juan asked.

Ethan
didn’t feel much like drinking or trying to pick up inebriated women, which was
why Juan went to bars. He’d had a false ID since he was fifteen and hadn’t let
it go to waste.

“I
have to pass tonight, bro,” Ethan said. “Traveled all day. Ready to crash.”

“
Mi
sofá es su cama
,” Carlos said, slapping him hard on the chest.

A
car took off at the end of the street, tires squealing, and Carlos ducked
behind the nearest obstacle—which happened to be Ethan’s car—until it had
disappeared onto the next block.

When
Carlos stood straight again, Ethan lifted an eyebrow at his brother. “Problem?”

“Nope,”
Carlos said. “You’d better take your car. If you leave it here, it probably
won’t have tires when you return.”

“It’s
not so bad here,” Juan said.

Carlos
shoved him. “Says the man who voluntarily goes to Laredo for pussy.”

“Mamá
has bigger balls than you do,” Juan said.

“When
did Pap
á
leave?” Ethan asked, feeling safe to
ask for details now that Mamá was out of earshot.

Carlos
scratched behind his ear, one nervous eye still on the road. “About a month
ago, I’d say.”

A
month
? He talked to his brothers and Mamá regularly, but no one had ever
hinted at Pap
á
leaving. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“She
said there was no need. She really thinks he’s coming back.”

“He’s
not coming back,” Juan said. “And I’m sure she’s low on funds. I try to give
her money, but she’s too proud to take it. I don’t think she can pay the
mortgage on her own.”

Maybe
that was part of the reason she was afraid to leave.

“Pap
á
will pay it,” Carlos said.

“If
he remembers,” Juan said. “He’s dick deep in a honey pot these days. He’s not thinking
clearly.”

Ethan
turned to look back at the house with a more critical eye. A few of the terracotta
roof tiles were missing, one of the porch lights had burned out, and a window
on the side of the house was boarded over.

“Isn’t
that Mamá’s bedroom window?” Ethan asked, nodding toward the plywood covering.

“That’s
where they broke in,” Carlos said. “While she was sleeping. She’s lucky they
didn’t kill her.”

“Just
some kids looking for drug money,” Juan said with a shrug. “The cops picked
them up a few days later.”

So
Carlos was overparanoid and Juan was completely unconcerned. Perhaps Ethan
could provide the middle ground their mother desperately needed to get her life
back on track. Not that he’d tell her it
wasn’t
on track. She’d probably
crack him upside the head with her cast iron skillet if he did that.

“You
should move back in with her,” Ethan said to Juan.

“That’s
a great way to score lots of women,” Juan said. “No thanks, bro.”

He
said goodbye to the self-centered little cuss, climbed in his adorable fucking
rental car, and followed Carlos to his apartment that was far too far from Mamá’s
house to be any comfort to him. She truly was alone there. But how would he
ever talk her out of leaving her home? Though he wasn’t sure she was in as much
danger as Carlos made it out to be, he didn’t think she was safe there either.
He’d do a little digging the next morning with friends on the local police
force. He wasn’t sure how much information they’d be willing to share, but he
could ask. Just as he pulled into an apartment complex parking lot behind
Carlos, his phone rang. It was almost midnight, but he wasn’t the least bit
upset that Trey was calling him so late.

Ethan
connected through his Bluetooth. “Are you finished giving me the silent
treatment?” he asked in greeting.

“I
can’t sleep. I miss you,” Trey murmured in a sleepy voice that made Ethan think
of bed and how much he wished he was sharing one with Trey and Reagan at the
moment.

“I
miss you too.”

“Are
you lying in bed thinking of me?”

“Wishing
I’d never left.”

“Then
come back,” he said. “I don’t understand why you left in the first place.
Reagan says she’ll never forgive you for deserting us.”

She’d
forgive him. She was the most forgiving person he’d ever met.

“I’m
in Texas,” Ethan said.

Silence
met Ethan’s ear, and he could imagine the look of confusion on Trey’s face.
“Why?” he asked eventually.

“I
came to visit my mother. And my brothers. I’m going to tell them.”

“About
us?” Trey sounded much more alert now.

“Yeah,”
he admitted, feeling relieved to share his burden with Trey. He had planned to
surprise him with the news, but was glad he was bad at keeping secrets. “It’s
proving to be more difficult than I’d anticipated.”

Ethan
parked in a vacant visitor spot, but left the car running.

“I
know it’s hard, E, but I promise you’ll feel so much better afterward,” Trey
said. Ethan was glad Trey didn’t give him an out, didn’t tell him he could forget
about it if the process became too uncomfortable. “And when you come back, no
matter the outcome, I’ll be waiting.”

Ethan
smiled, his chest warming at the idea of Trey waiting for him.

A
loud knock sounded on the car window and Ethan jumped, thinking he was under
attack until he recognized his brother staring in at him.

“I’ve
got to go,” Ethan said, figuring his brother could probably hear his
conversation through the car window. “I’m glad you called. I’ll talk to you
soon.”

He
disconnected before Trey could say something incriminating, such as
I love
you
or
I wish you were here sucking my dick
. Contact with Trey had
strengthened Ethan’s resolve once again. Not enough to tell Carlos about Trey’s
true importance to him just yet. But Ethan was pretty sure he was ready to tell
his mother. Tomorrow. Or if she was still upset, he’d tell her the next day.

Ethan
opened the door and unfolded his legs from the ridiculously small car.

“Who
were you talking to?” Carlos asked. “Your girlfriend?”

“No,”
Ethan said, going to the trunk for his overnight bag and slinging it over one
shoulder.

“You
sure? You had this goofy, lovey-dovey look on your face.”

Whoops.
“Whatever,” Ethan said, shoving Carlos in the shoulder. “You’re seeing things,
hombre.”

“I
must be,” Carlos said. “Sounded like you were talking to a man.”

“I
was,” Ethan said and left it at that.

The
apartment complex was small but well kept. The three-story beige buildings
formed a large rectangular U-shape flanked by sidewalks and red-mulch beds containing
desert plants. Brightly glowing street lamps provided a measure of nighttime
safety. Balconies hung from the upper floors, and he and Carlos passed a small
swimming pool in the center of the courtyard before Carlos led him to a ground
floor apartment and unlocked the door. The place was small, but much cleaner
than Ethan expected. Ethan deposited his bag near the sofa—his cama for the
night—and kicked off his shoes, making himself comfortable with a loud sigh.
Even though Ethan was exhausted, he enjoyed watching late night talk shows and
munching Fritos and bull-shitting with his brother. No matter how long it had
been since he’d last seen Carlos, they always clicked instantly, as if no time
had passed at all. Perhaps he should give the oldest of his brothers the
benefit of the doubt, spill his guts, and hope for the best. But then he
remembered how Carlos so freely used the word faggot and had referred to Trey—a
man he’d never met—as queer. Ethan wondered how he’d feel if Carlos referred to
him
that way. Ethan never cared what anyone thought of him, with the
exception of his family. He never wanted to disappoint them again. He was
pretty sure they’d think this was a much bigger deal than being fired from the
police force.