Chapter Thirty-Two
Dean
Early Saturday morning, I make my bleary-eyed way through the plane’s cabin and let out a huge sigh of relief. Made it. Blessedly, the plane isn’t full. I’m in the aisle, and my seatmate, a broad-chested white guy with massive thighs, has the middle seat.
“This is promising,” I say to him, pointing to the crew members preparing for takeoff. “Looks like we’ll be able to spread out.”
He swings his gaze from the window seat to me. “Nah. I prefer the middle.” Then he tips his head back and places his red Nationals baseball cap on his face.
What a jackass.
I wipe down my seat and tray table, then settle in for the trip. As one of the flight attendants hands out earphones, I call Max. “Hey, any news? Has Lina talked to her?”
“No, she’s still not answering, but Brandon tagged Oasis Wedding Chapel, and the caption said ‘Morning plans.’ Nothing else, though.”
“That’s good enough. I’ll head straight there from the airport.” A commotion near the cockpit draws my attention. “I’ve got to go. I’ll check in with you when I land. We’re supposed to get in just after eight thirty a.m. local time.”
“Sounds good. I doubt they’d schedule a wedding before nine anyway. Be safe.”
I tuck my phone in my pocket and try to get a better look at what’s going on up front. I mentally pray to the gods of the friendly skies: Please, please, please don’t do anything to delay this flight.
“Mariana, go already,” a throaty voice says, and when the next group of boarding passengers appears at the cabin entrance, I see Tia Viviane inching her way up the aisle, with Tia Mariana and Solange’s mom, Izabel, following closely behind her.
What the hell?
Izabel spots me first. “Dean! There you are, filho!”
“Izabel. Mariana. Viviane. Uh, this is a surprise.”
“We heard about Brandon and Solange,” Izabel says as she hands me her bag. “And if I need to be there to talk some sense into my daughter, then that’s what I’ll do. Can you put that away for me?”
“Of course.”
I end up stowing bags for all three women.
Viviane looks at her ticket. “Oh, I’m right here in your row, Dean.”
Nationals guy grunts and stands, letting her in, though it’s plain from his serious expression that he was hoping the window seat would remain empty. So damn strange. Mariana takes a seat in the row behind Nationals guy, and Izabel takes the aisle seat directly across from me. Essentially, I’m surrounded by the three sisters and one guy who thinks his dick is so big he can’t close his legs.
“You want to switch with her?” I ask my neighbor, pointing at Tia Viviane.
“Nah, I’m good.”
Tia Viviane flares her nostrils and glares at him. Oh, she’s pissed. Any minute now, Nationals guy is going to regret his decision not to switch seats with her.
Once we’re in the air, Tia Viviane proceeds to dig into her bag and remove a five-course meal. She hands Tia Mariana an item wrapped in foil, then asks me to pass another item covered in plastic wrap to Izabel. Tia Viviane isn’t bothering to limit her movements either. Instead, she’s using her full range of motion, her arm sweeping across Nationals guy’s face and almost clipping him on the nose as she purposefully prolongs the process of distributing the food. That’ll teach him.
I get a whiff of garlic, and my stomach rumbles. “Is that a sanduíche?”
“Yes,” Tia Viviane says, smiling at me for the first time. “Want one?”
“You have enough?”
“We always pack extra.”
“Yeah, I’d never turn one down.”
Tia Viviane makes a production of handing over my sandwich, cautioning that it’s hot and slathered in butter and might spill. Tia Mariana pulls on Nationals guy’s seat back as she gets comfortable. Unable to resist joining in on the fun, I pass wipes and hand sanitizer to Tia Viviane. As expected, Nationals guy grunts, straightens in his seat, and hits the call button. The flight attendant glides to our row within seconds.
“How may I help you, sir?”
He removes his cap, then shoots daggers at Tia Viviane and me. “I’m kind of a big guy. Wondering if it might be possible to snag a less congested row somewhere so I can spread out.”
She gives him an understanding smile. “All we have available is the very last row, near the restroom.”
“I’ll take it,” he says as he puts up his tray table.
I try to cover my grin, but then I catch Tia Viviane’s wicked expression and decide not to bother. After Nationals guy gathers his belongings, I slip into the aisle to let him out, then wave goodbye as he lumbers to the back of the plane.
“Okay,” Izabel says, turning toward me as if driving away Nationals guy was only the first order of business. “So what’s the plan?”
For a man who prefers to be prepared for even the most minor event, I’m embarrassingly bereft of any good ideas. What am I going to say to Solange? Will she even care that I want to be in a relationship with her? I was pretty adamant that I would never be able to love her the way she deserves to be loved. Will she believe that I’ve changed my mind? My head’s going to explode.
I bite into the bread and moan my appreciation. I may not know how to tell someone I love them, but I damn well know how to eat a delicious flank steak sandwich.
“Dean,” Izabel snaps. “You can talk and eat at the same time, no?”
“Yes, yes. I’m just gathering my thoughts. I mean, as wild as this may sound, I’m in love with your daughter. I’m going to start with that and just speak from the heart.”
Her eyes soften. “Okay,” she says, nodding. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Whether I’ll get anywhere with Solange, though, remains to be seen.
* * *
A full belly and a four-and-a-half-hour nap dramatically improve my mood. Not long after I wake, we’re touching down on Nevada ground, and I’m up and out of my seat as soon as the plane parks at the gate.
I scowl at a man who’s barreling through the aisle and refusing to wait his turn, then I help the tias get their bags from the overhead compartments. After a stop at the restroom, the tias and I follow the signs for ground transportation.
“There are slot machines in the airport?” Tia Mariana asks rhetorically. “Who thought that was a good idea?”
At ground transportation, I pull up the address for the Oasis Wedding Chapel. According to Google, it’s on the Vegas Strip and should only be a short trip from the airport. Once we’re all settled in the cab, I try my luck reaching Solange. To my surprise, someone picks up after the first ring.
“Hey, Dean,” Brandon whispers. “We can’t talk right now. We’ll call you back in a half hour or so.”
“Brandon—”
He hangs up before I can say another word.
I growl in frustration, then remember I’m not alone. “Sorry about that, everyone. I’m stressed.”
Izabel pats my forearm. “It’s okay, Dean. We understand.”
“How can you be so serene about this?” I say, bracing my neck. “Aren’t you worried Solange is making the biggest mistake of her life?”
She shrugs. “I have faith everything will work out in the end. Deus sempre encontra um caminho.”
Tia Mariana leans over. “God will always find a way.”
“And who knows?” Solange’s mother continues. “Maybe Brandon and Solange are meant to be. I just need to see this with my own eyes.”
Yeah, no. I don’t need to see shit with my own eyes. If Solange is meant to be with anyone, it’s abso-fucking-lutely me. I meet the driver’s curious gaze in the rearview. “Listen, we need to be at Oasis Wedding Chapel as soon as possible. Can you make that happen?”
“I’ll do my best,” he says. “Going to a wedding?”
“Yes,” I say, nodding. “But with any luck, we’ll be stopping it.”
The driver grins and steps on the gas. I get the fare and a sizable tip ready and spend the rest of the trip doing deep-breathing exercises to calm my nerves. My experience simulating childbirth wasn’t all for naught.
Twenty minutes later, I’m still not calm, but I’m ready for showtime anyway. As soon as the cab pulls to a complete stop, I rush to the trunk and unload everyone’s bags. After surveying the complex, I blow out a harsh breath. I expected a small white chapel, like the ones I’ve seen in countless movies. What I get instead is a maze of small gray and blue buildings and immaculately landscaped grounds in the middle of a glittery concrete town. Thankfully, one of the buildings is marked with an “Enter Here” sign. I point it out to the tias. “Over there.”
Izabel places a hand on my arm. “You go ahead first, Dean. I’m not sure it would be good for us to show up together. We’ll come in after. Good luck!”
“Thanks,” I say, sprinting away. “I’m going to need it.” A minute later, I push open the double doors and jog to the front desk. There, a woman wearing a friendly smile and a blue wig dances in her seat by way of greeting.
“Oooh, getting married today, sweetheart?” she asks in a heavy Southern accent.
Even though I’m short of breath, I manage to eke out a response. “No. I’m here to . . . uh . . . witness a wedding, and I think I’m going to be late.”
“Only one wedding on the books this morning. Down the hall and to the right. Maybe you can catch the last few seconds. Enjoy.”
“Can you watch my bag?” I ask, panting.
“Sure, sugar, set it right here,” she says, pointing to the area behind her.
I drop the bag without regard for any of the contents inside and sprint down the hall as though I’m a wide receiver making their last appearance in the Super Bowl. When I get to the doors of the chapel, I throw them open and rush inside.
Solange
“So, Brandon, has your curiosity been piqued?”
That was a sweet wedding, but I’m beat, and Brandon dragged us here before we could eat breakfast. Now that the newlyweds are retreating back up the aisle, I drop into the pew and stretch my calves. Brandon’s cocktails are potent, so even after a decent night’s rest, I’m existing in a mental haze that makes everything look overexposed.
“Yeah, yeah, thanks for humoring me,” he says. “I can finally say I’ve witnessed a Vegas wedding. One more item off my bucket list.”
“You’re a weirdo,” I say, bumping his shoulder.
Brandon studies his phone screen. Which reminds me.
“Don’t let me forget to check in with the hotel’s lost and found. I know I had my phone when we were sitting at the bar. Not having it is totally disorienting. Hopefully someone turned it in.”
“Hopefully,” Brandon says as he types away. Out of the blue, he stands and grabs my hand. “C’mon, I’m going to ask the officiant to take a picture of us for posterity.”
I don’t resist, but I do trudge to the altar because I’m just so damn tired.
“Okay, you two,” the officiant says. “One quick pic coming up. On three, say cheese.”
Brandon and I stand next to each other and smile for the camera. Before the officiant begins the count, Brandon turns to face me and interlaces our fingers.
“One, two—”
Suddenly the doors of the chapel swing open, and Dean bursts inside. “Wait! Solange, don’t do this!”
I gasp, and my heart thuds in my chest. What is he doing here? “Dean, I’m not—”
“Let him speak, Solange,” Brandon says, his eyes glinting with mischief. “There’s no reason we shouldn’t hear what he has to say.”
Honestly, I wish I had some popcorn. Because this? This is riveting. I’m tempted to launch myself into Dean’s arms, but I resist the urge, partly because I don’t know exactly why he’s here. Still, something tells me he wouldn’t have traveled across the country to reiterate that we’re never going to be a couple.
So I just stare at him and wait. God, he’s a sight for my lovesick eyes. His hair’s a glorious mess, and the faded jeans he’s wearing sit perfectly on his hips. My instinct isn’t to look at him and say Mine, mine, mine. All I can think is, Baby, I’m yours, yours, yours.
Dean takes small steps down the aisle and stops a foot away from me. He looks at Brandon, his expression somber. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but this needs to be said.”
Brandon gestures as if he’s giving Dean the floor. “Go right ahead. I want her to be absolutely certain about this.”
Dean returns his gaze to me, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
“For years, I’ve clung to a view about love that boils down to this: It isn’t worth it. I never doubted that it existed or that people experienced it. But I regarded it as a weakness. One that would leave me vulnerable and insecure. I need stability, I told myself. And giving my heart over to someone would make me weak, would surrender my future to their whims, would only leave me disappointed. So I focused on securing all the trappings of stability I could think of: a well-paying job, a home, a partner with the same ambitions as mine. And I was fine.”
I take a step in his direction, a glimmer of hope propelling me forward. “Until?”
He takes a deep breath and expels it slowly. “Until you.”
Oh God. I’m giddy and weightless, and I may never return to earth. So this is what euphoria feels like.
Dean’s not done, though.
“I once tried to explain to you how I envisioned my future, and it was so far off from what I actually want and need, it’s laughable.” He chuckles, then drags his fingers through his hair. “Solange, at this very moment, I have no idea what my job will be, whether I’ll be able to afford my mortgage much longer, or whether I’ll ever get married and have kids. And you know what? I’m not terrified. Why? Because if there’s any chance that you’ll be a part of my life, I can handle all of the other unknowns, even if that means we can’t be in the same place right now.”
He steps closer, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “And this isn’t about jealousy or wanting what I can’t have or anything like that. It’s really that over the course of the weeks I’ve known you, I’ve gotten glimpses of what it would be like to be your person. I’ve gotten a taste of what it would be like to be the one loving you. And it kind of feels like an honor. Like maybe I don’t deserve you. But I want to try to earn a place in your heart.” He chokes up a bit before continuing. “I want to try so damn much. These feelings you’ve inspired in me make me feel reckless and impulsive and disoriented in the best way. And I’m sorry that I once told you I couldn’t love you. Because that isn’t true. I already do.”
I tilt my head and smile at him. “It’s that damn warm, fuzzy feeling, isn’t it?”
His mouth twitches, then he smiles wide, affection glowing in his eyes. “Yes, damn you, yes.” He straightens and looks at Brandon as though he’s just remembered Brandon’s still here. “I’m really sorry about this, but Solange and I have unfinished business.”
“I was never in the picture,” Brandon says. “No worries at all.”
Dean’s brows snap together. “So . . . you’re not getting married?”
Brandon shakes his head. “Nah. That was just a ruse to get you here.” He digs into his pocket, pulls out my missing phone, then tosses it my way. “I had a little help too.”
As if on cue, my mother and aunts shuffle to the front of the chapel. Tia Viviane’s wiping her eyes with a tissue.
“Mãe, tias, what are you doing here?”
“We were giving Dean a little push,” she says. “And sending Brandon updates so he knew when to expect us.”
“Diabolical,” I say. “Every one of you.”
Dean shakes his head in wonder. “Indeed.”
“Hang on,” I say to Brandon and my family. “Could you excuse us? Dean and I need a minute.” I link arms with him, then draw him to an alcove on the right side of the chapel. Taking his hands in mine, I summon the courage to make some promises of my own. “You have no idea how much it means to me that you came here and fought for us. Because that’s what I’m prepared to do too. For so long, I have been resistant to committing to anything, claiming I was being careful, never overselling myself, avoiding mistakes that could change my life forever. I was stuck, Dean. But now I realize that by never choosing anything, I was choosing not to live the life I deserve.”
After taking a fortifying breath, I continue: “So today, I choose you, Dean. You. I’m not expecting easy. I’m expecting fireworks. And bumps in the road. And sweet moments. And mind-blowing sex. And hair-pulling conversations when we forget how to use our words. But I want it all. Every moment, whether it’s messy, tender, maddening, or sublime. I only want that with you.”
He tugs me close and wraps his arms around me. If I could, I’d remain in this moment forever. But too soon, several throats clear, demanding our attention.
“Is everything okay over there?” Tia Viviane asks. “There’s a show at noon we want to see.”
I flinch my head back slightly. “A show? Which one?”
Tia Mariana mumbles her answer; my mother drops her head and covers her face.
I cup my ear. “What? I can’t hear you.”
Tia Viviane steps forward, her chin raised as if she’s daring anyone to challenge her. “Magic Mike Live.”
Dean snorts. I just shake my head.
“Go,” I tell them. “We’ll meet at the hotel later.”
“C’mon, ladies.” Brandon puts his arm around Tia Viviane and waltzes up the aisle. “I’ll make sure you get there on time.”
Minutes later, Dean and I are finally alone.
“Now I need to ask you something,” he says, his mouth curved into a smile that fills me with pure, unadulterated joy.
“What is it?”
He holds my hands and squeezes. “Will you, Solange Pereira, take me as your boyfriend, to have and to hold, through sickness and in health, through the good times and bad, as long as we both shall share a Netflix account?”
I hold back a laugh and nod. “Throw in Apple TV+, and we’ve got a deal.”
“Done.”
I rise to my tiptoes and tug him close. Then we kiss. And it’s magic. The start of something special. A moment that could only happen between us.