CHAPTER 5
1502 Words
Exchange
“Do you have a mom?”
Diego just blurted it out like that, without warning. Lucas’s hand froze on the faucet.
“No. They told me she died when I was born.”
“Same here, but with my dad. Mom doesn’t talk about it.”
“Neither does my dad.”
They fell silent. Diego looked in the mirror. The same face, all over again.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Diego said.
“What do you mean?”
“That they saw each other and didn’t recognize each other. If we were siblings, they’d know it too. Something’s wrong.”
“My dad didn’t recognize you, and you didn’t recognize my mom either.”
“That’s what I’m saying. We have to figure this out.”
“How?”
—For now, let’s have them have dinner together. We’ll see how they react. Then we’ll figure out what to do next.
Lucas nodded. He wiped his face once more. He put on his mask.
“If they ask us why we invited them to the same place, what do we say?”
—You say I invited you. I’ll say you invited me.
—Okay.
“And we won’t fight during dinner.”
“That’s going to be tough.”
—Lucas.
—All right. I won’t fight.
Camila was finishing up packing up their things in the lobby when Diego showed up with the medal still hanging around his neck.
—Mom.
“Tell me, sweetheart.”
“The boy who lost it. His dad invited us to dinner.”
Camila looked up.
“Us?”
“Both of us.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. He says his son never has dinner with other kids and that it would be nice.”
Camila hesitated. She looked at Diego. Diego never asked for anything; he didn’t have any friends; he spent recess with a book.
—And do you want to go?
—I do.
“Okay.”
Diego nodded and went to put his backpack away.
**************
Mateo was in room 1402 with Lucas, helping him pack the silver medal into his suitcase. The boy hadn’t said much since the final.
—Dad.
—Go ahead.
“The other boy’s mom. She invited us to dinner.”
Mateo sat up straight.
“When did she tell you that?”
—In the hallway. After the awards ceremony.
“Do you want to go?”
Lucas shrugged. He looked down. He zipped up his suitcase.
“Yes.”
Mateo looked at him. He ran his hand through his hair.
“All right. Let’s go.”
“Thanks.”
******************
Camila arrived first with Diego. Mateo and Lucas arrived five minutes later.
“Ma’am.”
—Sir.
—Mateo.
“Camila.”
They shook hands. Mateo held her hand half a second longer than necessary. Camila didn’t pull away.
The children sat down next to each other.
“I ordered still water,” Camila said. “Is that okay?”
“That’s fine.”
Mateo opened the letter. Camila did too.
“I’m going to congratulate you on your son. He’s impressive.”
“Thanks. Your son’s great, too. They’ve been tied all morning. I’ve never seen anyone give Diego a run for his money.”
“Neither has Lucas. He usually finishes the semifinals with a sixty-point lead.”
“Well. Today was a good day for both of them.”
“For one more than the other.”
Mateo smiled slightly. Camila did too. They ordered their meals.
And then the kids started in.
“Are you married?” Lucas asked, without looking up from the menu.
Camila choked on her water. Mateo elbowed Lucas under the table.
“Lucas.”
“It’s just a question.”
“It’s an inappropriate question.”
“No, my love. I’m not married.”
“Neither is my dad. He doesn’t have a wife.”
Diego looked at him. Then he looked at Camila.
“My mom doesn’t either. She doesn’t have a husband. And I don’t have a dad.”
“Diego.”
“It’s true.”
“It’s true, but that’s not how you say it.”
“How do you say it?”
—You don’t say it.
Mateo looked at Camila. Camila looked at Mateo. They both looked down at the same time and both stifled their smiles.
“What about your mom, Lucas?” Diego asked in the most innocent voice he could muster. “Where is she?”
Mateo set his fork down on his plate.
“Lucas.”
“Dad, it’s just a question.”
“Lucas, no.”
“But…”
“I said no.”
Lucas fell silent. So did Diego. Camila looked down at her plate.
The silence lasted eight long seconds. Mateo poured himself some water with a hand a little steeper than necessary.
“I’m sorry, Camila. It’s a sensitive issue.”
“Don’t worry.”
“Let’s not talk about that.”
“I understand.”
The boys exchanged sidelong glances. Lucas gave Diego a nod with his eyebrow. Diego nodded barely.
Dinner continued. Camila asked Mateo what he did for a living. Mateo said he ran a medical logistics company based in Mexico. Camila told him about Mount Sinai. They talked about pediatric patients, protocols, and the differences between the Mexican and American healthcare systems. It was a comfortable conversation.
Too comfortable.
Mateo held her gaze a second longer than he should have. Camila tucked the strand of hair over her left eye every time he spoke. They both noticed it. Neither of them said anything.
During dessert, the children asked permission to go to the bathroom.
“Go together,” Camila said. “And come back quickly.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Yes, Dad.”
They went into the restroom in the lobby. They closed the door.
“It didn’t work,” said Diego.
“Your mom is single. My dad is, too.”
“But your dad doesn’t want to talk about your mom.”
“And your mom doesn’t want to talk about your dad.”
“Something happened.”
“I know.”
Diego took his cell phone out of his pocket. Camila had given it to him with conditions: emergencies only, calls only, and only to her. She had set it up so he wouldn’t have data.
“Give me your number.”
“Give me yours.”
They exchanged phones. Each of them entered the other’s number into their contacts.
“The test,” Diego said. “We have to do it.”
“How?”
“I’ll explain it to you tomorrow via text.”
Lucas nodded. He stared at Diego. Then he looked in the mirror. Then he looked at Diego again.
“Diego.”
“Tell me.”
“Switch places with me tonight.”
Diego stood still.
“What?”
“We’ll switch. I’ll go with your mom. You’ll go with my dad. Tomorrow at breakfast, we’ll switch back. No one will find out.”
—Lucas. That’s crazy.
“I want to see what your mom’s like. I want to know what it feels like to have a mom take you to bed.”
“Lucas.”
“Just one night. Just one.”
Diego looked at him. The mask covered half his face, but his eyes were just like Diego’s.
“I want to know what a dad is like, too.”
“Yes or no?”
Diego bit the inside of his lip.
“Yes.”
“Let’s swap sweatshirts. Let’s swap backpacks. Let’s swap cell phones.”
“Let’s swap.”
They took off their sweatshirts and handed them to each other. Lucas’s was a little looser on Diego. Diego’s was a little tighter on Lucas. But with their masks on and a brief greeting, no parent would notice anything in the dimly lit restaurant.
“The backpacks.”
“The backpacks.”
They swapped them.
“The heart pills?”
“We take the same ones.”
—Same dose?
—Same.
Diego smiled beneath his mask. Lucas did too.
“So, bro,” said Lucas.
“Bro.”
They bumped fists.
They climbed the stairs from the lobby to the restaurant. Each sat next to the father who wasn’t his own. Camila ran her hand through the hair of the boy she thought was Diego and said, “Let’s go, sweetheart; we have to wake up early tomorrow.” Mateo ran his hand through the hair of the boy he thought was Lucas and said, “Let’s go, son; you look tired.”
Both boys lowered their heads and said “yes” in a low voice.
Camila and Mateo said goodbye at the restaurant door. They agreed to meet the next day for breakfast.
And for the first time in eight years, each of the two brothers entered a hotel room with the other’s father.
- Writer
