Normal (Porque son tu corazón y el mio)
By wh_mermaid
The air tastes of gas fumes and smog. The oppressive Houston summer beats down on him as he stands by the side of a highway entrance, hand up and thumb erect. He’s already sweat through his shirt and it clings to him like a sticky second skin; he’s not sure if it’s the sun or anxiety. Dark eyes are trained on the ground, face pointed to the ground, so no one can identify him. All they see is a hitch hiker, someone heading toward something or perhaps running away. Ozzie is doing both.
A car pulls over, a beat up old Bronco, but to Ozzie it’s the gates to heaven. A man asks where he’s going, first in English and when he doesn’t, can’t, respond he asks again in Spanish. It’s native, rolls off his tongue, but Ozzie doesn’t know the accent.
"Miami," Ozzie tells him in Spanish, "I need to go to Miami."
The man asks him if he has any money; Ozzie shakes his head no. He has nothing but the clothes he’s wearing and a few pictures in his wallet.
"Illegal?" the man asks and Ozzie doesn’t know what that means. The man clarifies, "Sneak in from Mexico?"
Ozzie shakes his head. "Cuba."
*
Every night Ozzie spends a few minutes watching his son sleep and counting his blessings. Every moment of Ozzie’s life, every hardship and heartache, he’d relive over and over again knowing his son will have the best possible life Ozzie can give him. His most prized possession, Ozzie wonders what Dennis dreams about as his chest slowly rises and falls with each breath.
Ozzie dreams of his childhood, of the mountains and valleys, of the tobacco fields of San Cristobal and Pinar Del Rio. He tastes the sticky sweetness of a fried plantain, and hears his grandmother scolding him for wiping his fingers on his shorts. The sky is blue and impossibly large, but with each passing day, it fades and shrinks until it’s translucent and he sees the bars surrounding it. People point to the north and say in whispered words ’90 miles’. 90 miles and the bars will be gone. There are two types of people who can leave Cuba- the rich and the desperate. The rich can buy visas, but there are more visas than people who will ever be able to afford them. The desperate take matters into their own hands and leave in the middle of the night on rafts made out of wood, empty bottles, and hope.
The ocean is a cruel giver of a harsh test. To pass is to be free, to live. To fail is to die, to be forgotten in a watery grave. There are more graves; these days he dreams of those who perished. They surround him, decaying corpses screaming and crying words muffled by the ocean. Water drips from them as they ask him why he lived.
Ozzie wakes up before they hurt him. He listens as the ever present rain beats a pattern of guilt on his window. He lies alone, staring at the ceiling.
*
Fredy is rolling on the ground shrieking with laughter as Lamar looks at him like he’s gone insane. Ozzie is annoyed at their reaction and even more annoyed that Alvaro agrees with them. At least Servando is polite enough to turn around before he starts laughing.
"The two of you," Lamar repeats as if he didn’t hear them the first time, "are coaching peewee soccer?" They nod and Servando loses it, joining Fredy on the ground. "Six to seven year olds?"
Ozzie knows he and Alvaro would not be anyone’s first choice as coaches for their children at such a young age. They’re probably not anyone’s tenth choice either. Both are notoriously hot tempered and Ozzie will be the first to admit that his nickname of ‘Honey Badger’ is accurate in describing him. Their sons, though- Ozzie will do anything for Dennis and Alvaro will do the same for Val. Even coach a soccer team of uncoordinated six and seven year old boys. Ozzie is not sure if Dennis will still want to play soccer a few years from now, much less professionally, but he is damned sure that his son will have the best foundations possible. If there is one thing Ozzie knows for sure, it’s that the best and only way to get something done is to do it yourself.
*
Weekend mornings alternate between the Alonso and Fernandez households. Most of the time they start the night before with movies and video games. They wake at hours that are ungodly and cause complaint during the week but no one bats an eye at during the weekend. Val insists on watching Liverpool to see Luis Suarez dart around the field, bringing Liverpool closer to reclaiming their dominance of England. A signed poster hangs in his room as well as a jersey signed by the entire team. Other great Uruguayan player’s signed posters adorn his walls as well. It’s Val’s dream to play for Uruguay in a World Cup just like his father did.
Dennis’s walls have no autographs other than from teams who come to Seattle to play friendlies and from the Sounders themselves. Ozzie doesn’t, can’t, talk to his former national teammates. Dennis will never have the opportunity to play for the same country his father did. His father will never go to a World Cup because he doesn’t have a country he can play for.
Their world stops when Barcelona plays. There are heroes and then there are gods. Xavi and Iniesta are Dennis and Val’s gods. Ozzie and Alvaro hear them talking at night, of La Masia, of Camp Nou, and of how someday they’ll be the most famous players in the world. People will forget Pele, Maradona, Ronaldo, Messi, and there will only be Dennis and Val. They’re a package deal; there is not one without the other. They go to the same school, eat together, play together, and dream together. Sometimes Ozzie considers asking Alvaro to move in because he can’t count the number of times he’s found Val asleep next to Dennis or had to go to Alvaro’s to get Dennis. Best friends and brothers- they’ve been this way since their mothers left.
*
"Who is she?"
The last man left him at a bus station with enough money so he wouldn’t go hungry and enough faith that he would get where he was going. An old woman is sitting next to him on a bus to Georgia, on her way to see her daughter. She’s from Mexico, and he thinks of the illegals the last man told him about. He wonders if anyone would arrest an old woman and force her to leave her home.
He’s flipping through the pictures in his wallet, crumpled pictures of his family, of his parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, brothers and sister, and others he might never see again. At 21 years of age, Ozzie’s not sure if he’s ready for the concept of ‘never again’. His eyes linger on one picture in particular.
"She was my girlfriend."
"Was? What happened to her?"
The old woman is kind, insists on feeding him from the large basket of food she’s brought with her. She reminds him of his grandmother, the way she clucks her tongue and tells him he’s too skinny and he would look more handsome if he stopped scowling and would grow his hair out. When she figures out where he is from and what he’s just done, she embraces him and pets his arm. Ozzie didn’t expect to find kindness like hers.
"She left, three years ago."
He sounds different when he speaks about Liang. His voice is normally flat, monotone, but there’s a breath of life in it when he speaks of her. The old woman smiles, the laugh lines on her face deepen.
"She is why you’re going to Miami?" Ozzie nods. "She’s very lucky to have a man who would give up so much to join her."
He tries not to think of it as gaining and losing. He tries not to think of it as paying for his freedom, for a chance at a better life with the woman he loves. It’s a steep price- your family, your job, your country, and everything you have ever known. Ozzie grits his teeth. There are no do-overs and there is no going back. He is adrift in the ocean and can only pray he’ll feel land under his feet again.
*
The school year is easy. Ozzie and Alvaro drop the boys off at school before carpooling to practice. Practice lets out just as school does and they are there fifteen minutes after the last bell. Dennis and Val never notice when their fathers are late because they’re too busy seeing who can go higher on the swings or hold onto the monkey bars longer.
The summers used to be easy, when Liang and Veronica were around. Life was easier when they were around. Summers are now charts of meticulously detailed schedules of camps, practices, games, travel schedules, and the rare days off. Ozzie thinks what was originally a hardship is now a blessing. He is closer than ever to his son.
"Don’t run!"
Ozzie’s not sure how the boys have convinced him to take them to the local pool. The day after a game should be spent sleeping and being unproductive around the house. Instead he’s on a plastic lounger that’s digging into his back as what sounds like a thousand children shriek and splash in the pool. Alvaro’s lounger is empty- he’s in the parking lot on the phone with his wife.
Ozzie hasn’t spoken with Liang in over a month other then saying a clipped hello before handing the phone to Dennis. She’s been gone for almost a year, back to Miami to live with a cousin. Seattle was too cold, too gray, and Ozzie wasn’t surprised when she left. Somewhere along the way the line connecting them snapped and Ozzie drifted away to face the ocean again. He's not alone this time though.
Alvaro calls for Val, and Ozzie finds himself soaking wet as Dennis climbs into his lap. They watch as Alvaro gives the phone to his son, who dutifully speaks to his mother, smile on his face. Dennis doesn’t smile when he talks to his mother. He used to ask about her every day, about when she was coming back. He’s glad his son stopped asking- he was tired of lying to him.
Hanging up the phone, Alvaro collapses in the chair next to him as the boys return to the water. He reeks of sunscreen and faintly of the cherry tootsie pop they ‘confiscated’ from the boys; his lips and tongue are stained red. Ozzie doesn’t understand how Alvaro stays so skinny.
They don’t talk about their wives. Ozzie didn’t question it when Veronica went back to Uruguay to care for her sick mother instead of bringing her to the United States. Alvaro didn’t ask why Liang stopped visiting. It’s as if everything but their sons and soccer ceased to exist. Ozzie doesn’t mind.
"Val’s getting tall," he comments as he watches his son jump onto Val’s back.
"In another year he’ll be taller than you," Alvaro responds- Ozzie extends his middle finger. Alvaro is silent for a minute before saying, "They’re not going to be here to see it."
Ozzie doesn’t answer. He thinks back to his mother, of kissing her goodbye. Of knowing that it could be the last goodbye and he couldn’t tell her. He thinks of his wife leaving their son. He wonders if all leaving is the same, no matter how you try to justify it.
Alvaro reaches across the space between them and squeezes Ozzie’s hand.
*
The first day of coaching Dennis and Val’s team puts Ozzie in a melancholy mood. As he watches the fifteen boys being dropped off by parents who have the time and money to give their children a leg up, he thinks of his parents and how different the first field he played on was. The grass at Starfire is always green, free from divots, and precisely manicured. As the boys run their warm up lap, he sees brand new cleats and shin guards that have little to no wear on them.
Ozzie remembers being his son’s age, playing barefoot in the park close to their house. There wasn’t grass, and he remembers the dust flying around them, the dirt cool on his feet as the sun and exertion brought sweat to his skin, the smell of the tobacco fields all around them. His father played professionally, but professional soccer in Cuba is like amateur leagues anywhere else. His father worked hard to make sure Ozzie had what he needed. He was the first boy in his neighborhood to have cleats, but his father refused him shin guards until he entered an academy. His shins were always sore; his father would say each bruise was a lesson. Shin guards were a luxury, a right that he had to earn. The children from wealthy families had shin guards, children with parents who were plantation owners or worked for the government, children who carried Cuba in their hearts. Ozzie carries Cuba in his heart, but she’s a memory of a faded and bygone era before Ozzie was born.
"Are you still with me?" Ozzie blinks and turns to look at Alvaro, who smiles at him. "I thought I might have lost you there for a minute. You okay?"
"Just… just remembering what it was like playing at their age." The smile on Alvaro’s face falters and he looks away. "It’s okay; I won in the end, right?"
Ozzie doesn’t really believe that, but he tells himself that to not feel like a coward who ran away. They’re silent for a minute before Alvaro looks at him again. There’s something different in this look than normal, but Ozzie isn’t really sure what it is.
"You’re the strongest person I know," Alvaro tells him. "And I mean it."
"Yeah, you know it," Ozzie mutters, brushing it off. "You know, barefoot and hills and whatever that saying is."
"You walked to school barefoot, uphill, in the snow both ways? It doesn’t snow in Cuba, you fucking liar."
"Fuck that. They don’t have roads in Cuba- we climbed cliff walls during hurricanes to get to school."
Ozzie thinks Alvaro is unusual looking, a handsome that is outside of the norm. When he laughs, Ozzie can’t take his eyes away.
*
Liang calls the night before Dennis’s first game to tell Ozzie she’s in town. She wasn’t sure if it was okay to come by the house. Ozzie doesn’t have anything to say to her, but asks how long she is staying. She tells him a week, maybe longer.
Dennis doesn’t see her in the crush of parents lining the fence at the game. Alvaro sees her first, and asks Ozzie if he knew she was coming, his lips pressed tightly together. Ozzie grunts and shrugs; Alvaro frowns. He alternates between barking instructions to his team and stealing glances at his wife. Her skin has soaked up the Miami sun and she’s smiling brighter than he’s seen in a while as she watches Dennis play. When she smiles, he remembers why he left Cuba. He sees her talking to the other parents and wonders if she introduces herself as Dennis’s mom or his wife first.
They win 4-2 and after they have lined up and high fived the other team, Dennis sprints over and throws his arms around him.
"Did you see that Dad? I scored, and we won and…" Dennis babbles on in excitement and Ozzie laughs, picking his son up and spinning him around in a circle.
"Look who’s here," he points out Liang to Dennis.
A smile blossoms across his son’s face as she calls out to him. Dennis is shy as she approaches them, hesitantly reaching up for a hug. Ozzie realizes it’s been two months since Dennis has seen her. She moves toward Ozzie; they share a brief embrace, and he’s pretty sure they both know it’s just for show. She’s wearing a different perfume and not wearing her wedding ring. Ozzie wonders if she’s seeing someone. He has to restrain himself from frowning. He doesn’t want Dennis to see his father frowning at his mother. There are a lot of things Ozzie wants, but he’s learned wanting and having rarely go hand in hand.
That night when he takes off his ring for the Sounders match, he doesn’t put it back on afterward.
*
The wooden pews are as hard and uncomfortable in America as they are in Cuba. He’s found refuge and a bed for the night in a church in a Cuban neighborhood in Atlanta. It’s Wednesday night and the Church is almost full. Ozzie sits in the back, an outsider amongst familiar strangers. They speak his language with his accent but most have never been to Cuba.
Tonight the priest gives a sermon on forgiveness. Ozzie isn’t in the mood to forgive or be forgiven. As he stares at an unmoving Jesus nailed to a polished, wooden cross, he feels he deserves punishment over salvation. The tiny silver cross around his neck feels heavy and he feels in his bones how tired he is. The choir sings- as their voices rise he struggles so tears won’t fall. By now, his parents must know he’s gone. Are they happy their son has run or angry he left? Do they grieve that he is gone or are they embarrassed by his actions? Does he deserve forgiveness for thinking of only himself?
As they kneel and bow their heads in prayer, he mimics their actions. He doesn’t pray for forgiveness for himself because he’s not sure if he deserves it. Instead, he prays that his family can forgive any blame they might lay on themselves.
*
Their sons are out with Liang for the day, out at the Pacific Science Center and probably up to the Space Needle as well. Alone for maybe 30 minutes, the silence feels unnatural; he’s about to pick up the phone to call Alvaro when he hears a key in the front door and Alvaro walks in. Ozzie realizes that they’ve been together for so long at this point that being apart feels wrong. Alvaro is an extension of himself- a single yet married father, trying to raise a young boy in a foreign land.
"I think she wants to take Dennis back to Miami," he tells Alvaro during a commercial- they’re watching the Mariners get destroyed.
"Did she tell you that?"
"Why else would she be here?"
Alvaro doesn’t look up from the TV screen. "She shouldn’t have wasted a trip then."
Ozzie thinks Alvaro knows him better than Liang ever did. She goes back to Miami a few days later without saying goodbye, but more importantly, without Dennis.
*
Even though European soccer is over, the sleepovers continue. The weekend pours over into the week. At some point Ozzie and Alvaro find themselves at IKEA purchasing identical bunk beds to replace the beds in the boy’s rooms so they each have their own. Something about furniture shopping with Alvaro seems so domestic that it should feel not normal but it doesn’t. Ozzie feels like he has lived like this for more than a year, and he’d been content to live like this forever.
He stops sleeping in the bedroom he shared with his wife. Half of the week he sleeps in his guestroom, the other half he sleeps on Alvaro’s couch. Ozzie prefers the couch because it’s not in his house. This is the first house he bought, a symbol of everything he’s worked for. It’s the house where he, his wife and son were a family. They’re not a family anymore and now that house stands as a reminder that nothing is certain. It’s full of memories and chains, and Ozzie is no stranger to running away from either of those things. Neither is his wife. He wonders if those who leave are destined to never find a place to call home again, to drift without feeling land beneath their feet.
As Ozzie lights the grill in the backyard he sees Dennis laugh and smile as he passes a ball to Val, who shoots and scores against Alvaro in goal. He reminds himself that home is not a place but people. They feel like home- Dennis, Alvaro, and Val feel like home. If he runs, this will all be gone. Ozzie’s not willing to take that risk.
*
Being on the road is hard for everyone. Ozzie used to say it was because he missed his bed, but he doesn’t really have one anymore. No, he misses his son and Val, and he doesn’t like worrying about them. They’re in good hands; they’ve have the same nanny for the past year. Ozzie and Alvaro still call before every meal and before they go to bed. That’s changed too- Ozzie used to room with Fredy and Alvaro with Mauro. Mauro’s gone now, retired back in Argentina on some farm where he probably kicks balls at chickens. Fredy pretends to be offended, but they know he’s fine playing Fifa with Jhon and the others.
Their teammates tease Ozzie and Alvaro, calling them an old married couple. When the team goes out, they rarely join them. They hurry home after practice to spend time with their sons instead of waiting after to avoid responsibility. In the past, Ozzie would have been annoyed with his teammates, but he’s not anymore. They do act like an old couple. Ozzie’s okay with that; it makes him feel better knowing Dennis has Alvaro as a role model instead of just him.
"I hate this," Alvaro tells him after hanging up with the boys. "It’s not supposed to be like this."
"How’s it supposed to be?" Ozzie is feeling cynical tonight.
"I don’t know," Alvaro huffs and flops face down next to Ozzie on the bed. Turning his head and cracking an eye open, he stares at Ozzie’s hands. "Why’d you stop wearing your ring?"
"What’s the point in pretending?"
The next morning Alvaro’s ring isn’t on his finger.
*
"I know who you are."
Service has ended and the congregation has had their fill of cookies and coffee. There’s a small apartment attached to the back of the church for the priest. The old man has been nice enough to let Ozzie stay in his guest room, use his shower, and feed him. He says it’s God’s will, but Ozzie knows the old man is just kind. Most of the people he’s seen doing God’s will are doing their own and justifying twisted actions by associating God’s name with it.
"I think you’re mistaken."
The priest smiles. "The tides bring us to Florida, not Texas."
Ozzie laughs and shakes his head. There’s no trying to fool the priest in his house and by extension, a house of God. Smile still on his face, the priest bids Ozzie goodnight. Ozzie knows that if he wanted to, he could stay here for a few more days and work enough odd jobs to pay the priest back for his kindness and for his own ticket to Miami. Time is money though, and he doesn’t like relying on others for help.
When the priest wakes for morning mass, Ozzie is already gone.
*
"Dad, we’re going to be late."
"Wake up!"
"Unnnnppphhffffff."
The sun is barely up over the mountains. Cracking his eyes open, he sees his son and Val looking down at him. Groaning, he pulls his blanket over his eyes and rolls over. As the couch shifts beneath him, he realizes he’s both fallen asleep on the couch again as well as fallen asleep on Alvaro again. It’s the third night in a row they’ve fallen asleep on the couch. Alvaro manages to sleep sitting up, but Ozzie always finds himself stretched out and using Alvaro as a pillow.
"Daaaaaaaaad!"
"Oonnnffffff." He grunts as the boys jump onto him in their attempts to wake him up.
He hears Alvaro tell them to go eat something and they slide off of him. It’s still too early. Ozzie knows there is no way he and Alvaro slept for more than four hours. His sleep-addled mind is barely aware of Alvaro talking to him; he hears words but takes no notice of them. A hand rests itself on the back of his neck, fingers tracing slow circles to coax him from sleep. He finally turns over and opens his eyes. Alvaro’s hair is sticking up in all directions and the blanket has imprinted red lines on his face.
"Hey," Alvaro half says, half yawns.
It’s one word, more like a noise from the back of Alvaro’s throat, but Ozzie still smiles. There’s this weird feeling in his stomach, a weightless then clenching sensation, like he’s hungry but that’s not it. Alvaro smiles down at him and the feeling intensifies. Ozzie frowns.
"What’s wrong?" Alvaro mirrors Ozzie’s frown.
"Nothing."
Alvaro laughs. "Only you would frown when nothing’s wrong." Ozzie grins. "Oh Jesus, that’s an ugly face- go back to frowning."
"Fuck you," Ozzie chuckles as he shoves Alvaro off the side of the couch.
Alvaro makes a weird ‘unfff’ sound as he falls off, and Ozzie finds himself being pulled down and tumbling after him. His limbs are still weak with sleep and he mock fights Alvaro. The boys come rushing back into the room and jump on top of them. Ozzie works with them to pin Alvaro down and they cheer when Alvaro gives up. Val and Dennis scamper off to change for the game and Ozzie pulls Alvaro to his feet.
"Do you think this is normal?"
"I don’t know what normal is," Ozzie tells him. "Why?"
"No reason."
The rising sun highlights Alvaro’s disarrayed hair and throws shadows onto his face. His smile is brighter than the shadows, one of the most beautiful things Ozzie has ever seen; his stomach feels weightless again.
*
As they drive to the game, Ozzie thinks back to a time when he thought he knew what normal was. Normal meant routine: wake up at six to do chores around the house before hitching a ride to the practice grounds on the outskirts of Pinar Del Rio. The academy was wave after wave of changing faces- if you weren’t prepared to give your best and be the best, there were always five other kids waiting for your spot. Ozzie remembers days when he would throw up multiple times during practice, but still run back onto the field, fearful of being thought of as weak. Ozzie has a no-bullshit attitude and he knows it’s from his fear of not being good enough as a child. He looks in the rearview mirror at his boys- he never wants them to feel that way.
After the game, a few parents are discussing the expanding Sounders Junior Academy and whether or not Ozzie and Alvaro will be coaching. They tell the parents they are not sure, but Ozzie already knows the answer is yes. His sons dream of La Masia, and while that is still their dream, he’ll do whatever it takes for it to happen. As he watches them kick a ball back and forth, he wonders when he started thinking of Val as his son.
*
Liang comes for the boys' last match of the summer. It’s early Sunday morning and Ozzie and Alvaro are still worn from the Sounders game the previous night. If it’s possible for someone to look sad and resolute, that’s how she looks with her shoulders stiff but eyes sad. She comes bearing hugs and gifts for Dennis and divorce papers for Ozzie. He’s not surprised. If anything, he’s relieved. Alvaro doesn’t question it when Ozzie asks him to take the boys home without him after the game. It doesn’t escape his notice that she’s filed for full custody of Dennis.
Ozzie doesn’t remember life before Liang. She’s been a constant his entire life. He remembers sticking gum in her hair and when she would get angry enough to chase him with sticks. He remembers that first feeling, realization, that he loved her, and the way her body fit against his the first time they kissed. When she left Cuba, he shut out the world and concentrated on being the best because the best played for Cuba in tournaments and that would be his only chance to leave. He left for her only to have her leave again. Ozzie’s too old for chasing and games, not when he has Dennis to think about.
"He needs his mother," she tells him softly.
"Then she shouldn’t have left him." Ozzie’s voice is stiff.
"Ozzie." She frowns, looks upset, and he knows she genuinely is, but he can’t let her get to him or she’ll win. "You know I couldn’t stay here. Maybe if you came back?"
"No. This is my home. This is Dennis’s home. This is where the people he loves live. I’m not taking that away from him."
"This isn’t what he is," she protests. "We’re Cuban, he’s Cuban- he needs to grow up knowing who he is."
"If I wanted my son to be raised Cuban, I would have never left Cuba."
From the look on her face, Ozzie know he’s both hurt her and struck a chord. He doesn’t know what she came here expecting, but she should know Ozzie will never let Dennis go.
"I’m not letting you take my son away from me." She folds her arms in front of her.
"I didn’t have to- you walked away from both of us." She scowls at him. "Look, what do you want me to say? You ran away. What type of message does that show Dennis? It’s okay to run away from your problems?"
"Like you’ve never run away before?" she grumbles; Ozzie grits his teeth and counts to ten.
"I did. I left Cuba for you. I left my family for you. I did it once, I won’t do it again."
Ozzie stands from the table and leaves. The conversation won’t get them anywhere except angry. He’ll let lawyers do the rest of the talking for him.
As he drives home, a million thoughts are racing through his mind. He’s worried his schedule will hurt his case for custody. He grits his teeth- he’ll retire and work as a janitor before losing custody of Dennis. On the other hand, Liang doesn’t work and she’s all but left them. Ozzie prays he has a stronger case. He sits parked in the driveway for a few minutes. It’s not even noon yet, but he feels like he’s been awake for days just drifting. He’s vaguely aware of the car door opening and Alvaro sliding in next to him.
"She’s not going to take him away from you," Alvaro tells him, taking one of Ozzie’s hands. He interlaces their fingers and gently squeezes, trying to anchor him. "She’s not going to take him from us."
He barely hears what Alvaro says, the words just bounce around in his head. The silence hangs over them for a few minutes until Val and Dennis run by, shrieking and shooting each other with water guns. They see their fathers sitting in the car and spray the window, laughing before they run off again. Ozzie blinks. He can’t lose this.
"Us?" he finally says.
"Us." Alvaro slumps down in the seat far enough to be able to rest his head against
Ozzie's. "Us."
*
The bus is half empty and Ozzie is sitting by himself. There are still enough unfilled seats for people to steer clear of him. Who would want to sit next to him anyway? He’s been wearing the same clothes for two days and has a scowl on his face. That scowl’s been a permanent fixture for the past three years.
A normal person would say ‘with any luck, that scowl will go away soon’. Ozzie isn’t normal and he doesn’t believe in luck. Ozzie believes in hard work and getting things done instead of wishing and hoping on something as flippant as luck.
*
At seven, Dennis is old enough to understand what divorce is. Ozzie is ready to call child psychologists and therapists if Dennis seems upset. He isn’t, though, and when Ozzie explains Mommy and Daddy won’t live together anymore, Dennis asks if they got divorced last year. Ozzie thinks Dennis is too smart sometimes.
"I get to stay with you, Alvaro and Val, right?" Dennis asks. "I don’t want to leave."
"Is that what you want?" Ozzie asks as Dennis crawls into his lap and shakes his head yes. Ozzie wraps his arms around the son he cherishes. "Okay."
*
September and October are a never ending hell. Ozzie and Alvaro are coaching the boy’s age level at the Sounders Junior Academy, raising their sons, dealing with lawyers, and playing twice a week both at home and on the road. The last week of September, they’re gone for nine days straight. They come home to tearful sons who don’t want their dads to leave again. They do though, every week for 2-3 days. Everyone hates it.
Alvaro starts sleeping next to him, first only on the road and eventually they claim the guest bedroom in Alvaro’s house as theirs. There’s nothing sexual about it yet; they’re both too unsure and uneasy to know exactly how to take the next step. Ozzie likes waking up next to someone who expects the same things of him that he does of them. He sometimes feels like they are the same person in two bodies.
At night, Alvaro is always the first to sleep. Ozzie watches him, silk hair spilled across his pillow and mouth slightly open. When he worries about the divorce or the future, he reaches across the small space between them and rests his hand next to Alvaro’s- not touching but close enough to feel body heat. He contemplates what ‘us’ means and whether or not Alvaro wants what Ozzie wants. Except Ozzie’s still not sure what he wants and Alvaro is still married. All Ozzie knows is the man sleeping next to him makes him feel strange, but in a good way.
*
They’re on the road when something finally does happen. Alvaro has scored a brace and the elation on his face as he jumps into Ozzie’s arms is a catalyst. Everything seems clear in that one moment, and as boos and jeers rain down, all Ozzie can feel is the heat of Alvaro against him. Ozzie knows he wants something more.
The happiness is there one moment and gone the next as Fredy is taken down in a bad two-footed tackle and Alvaro is in the offending defender’s face. Ozzie’s mind tells him to stay back, that getting involved is not a good idea, especially since he’s sitting on three accumulated yellows and Sigi has been clear with Ozzie about controlling his temper on the pitch. The defender pushes Alvaro to the ground; Ozzie’s body ignores his brain. He’s in front of Alvaro in a blink of an eye, snarling and shoving the defender back. It’s the closest he’s ever been to punching someone on the field, but Alvaro is back up and pulling him away before he does something and becomes suspended for the rest of the season.
"Ozzie, stop," Alvaro snaps as Ozzie struggles against his hold. "It’s not worth it."
The defender is shown a red and Ozzie a yellow; he could care less. He doesn’t bother looking at the bench where he’s sure Sigi is staring at him furiously from underneath the pile of outerwear that always accumulates on the coach. It only takes three minutes for the ref to blow his whistle and motion to the sidelines. Ozzie is subbed off as the crowd boos him. He grabs a Gatorade and a blanket before storming to an empty section of the bench where he won’t have to speak to anyone. When Alvaro is subbed off fifteen minutes later, he doesn’t sit next to Ozzie.
Alvaro doesn’t talk to Ozzie again until late that night. A few of the guys go out, and for a change, Alvaro goes with them. Ozzie is still in a foul mood despite their win. He’s already in bed when Alvaro returns drunk, stumbling to the point where Fredy and Jhon have to drag him in. Ozzie doesn’t remember the last time he saw Alvaro drunk or even have more than one drink.
"You know," Alvaro tells him a few minutes later, after the other two have left and he’s not as far gone, "I don’t need you to protect me."
"I’d defend anyone on the team," Ozzie snaps, rolling his eyes as he hears Alvaro stand and feels the bed dip. "Don’t feel special, you’re no different."
"Liar." Ozzie rolls over and stares stonily at Alvaro. "You’re a goddamned liar. Don’t you fucking lie to me."
"You’re drunk." Ozzie wrinkles his nose; Alvaro smells of booze and smoke. "And you reek- go sleep in the other bed." He tries to roll back over, but Alvaro grabs his shoulder and forces him flat on his back. "What’s your goddamned problem Alvaro?"
Alvaro stares at Ozzie for a minute, his eyes glazed and almost black in the barely lit room. Ozzie is about to push Alvaro off of him when Alvaro leans down and presses their lips together. It’s angry- Ozzie feels more of Alvaro’s teeth and rum-laced tongue than his lips. He’s frozen, unsure of what to do or how to react. His body reacts for him though, and he gently pushes Alvaro away.
"You’re drunk," Ozzie tells him.
"Don’t fucking tell me I’m not different or that this isn’t special," Alvaro growls.
Alvaro looks angry, but Ozzie knows he’s upset and scared. Ozzie understands, because it’s exactly how Ozzie feels. Sighing, Ozzie shifts and pulls the blankets down so Alvaro can slide in next to him. Alvaro looks uncertain, so Ozzie just pulls him down. Instead of sleeping with a space between them, Ozzie rests his head against Alvaro’s chest and wraps an arm around him.
"I’m sorry," he mutters.
"Me too." Ozzie feels the vibrations of Alvaro’s words. "Ozzie, I want… I want us, for us to…"
"I know, I want it too. But there are some things we need to take care of first."
They fall asleep, the weight of unworn wedding rings ever present in the back of their minds.
*
"Do you mind if I sit here?"
Ozzie doesn’t understand his words, but by the way he is looking at the open seat, it’s clear the boy wants to sit. Ozzie nods, pulls himself closer to the window. He doesn’t take up much space; he’s always been on the small side.
Their conversations are short exchanges of shaky words. The boy speaks elementary Spanish with an accent that would normally make Ozzie laugh. He doesn’t laugh though- he can’t speak English aside from hello, goodbye, thank you, please, and go to Miami. The boy is going home from college for the summer. As Ozzie understands it, most boys his age in the United States are at college or university. The boy eventually falls asleep listening to some sort of music player Ozzie’s never seen before.
Ozzie can’t help but feel jealous. He wonders how different his life would be if he was born here. It’s not that he isn’t proud of being Cuban, his heart already aches for home, but he knows there are opportunities he was denied because of it. He supposes that’s true of everyone no matter what situation they’re born into though. But there’s no point in dwelling in the past; Ozzie will make his own opportunities.
Leaning his head against the cool window, he closes his eyes and sees silky black hair and a vibrant smile. He counts the minutes until he will see her again.
*
The court awards Ozzie temporary custody of Dennis as the divorce begins to pick up momentum. His lawyer is optimistic Ozzie will win full custody. Ozzie isn't so sure- his schedule doesn't lend him much confidence. Liang's lawyer will use his busy schedule against him, his temper against him, and every bad trait he has against him. Ozzie finds it uncomfortable that he feels like he's going to war with the one person he was supposed to love forever. Part of him wonders if he ever really loved her or if he just thought he did. His heart constricts painfully- he knows he loved her but now he doubts she ever loved him as deeply as he loved her.
"Maybe she was testing you," Alvaro tells him as they prepare dinner one night. "She left to see if you would follow and you did." Ozzie pauses stirring the pot to watch Alvaro carefully dice carrots. "She left again and she's angry you didn't follow."
"I'm not leaving." Ozzie returns to stirring the bubbling liquid. "Miami doesn't have anything I want."
"And Seattle does?"
Ozzie turns to look at Alvaro again. His shoulders are hunched as he meticulously makes sure each cut vegetable is the same size. Alvaro's shirt hangs off his bony frame; Alvaro's clothes always hang off of him because of his lanky build. The thought of Alvaro wearing his baggy shirts, cooking in the kitchen with him, raising their sons together, and sharing their future together- Ozzie can't think of anything else he's wanted as bad as what he wants with Alvaro.
"Yeah, it does."
Ozzie loves the way Alvaro's nose scrunches when he smiles.
*
The boys are staring at Fredy like he's a God. The striker is demonstrating a series of drills for them while Alvaro and Ozzie snigger at the boys' expressions. When they blow the whistle, the boys are too busy gaping at Fredy to do anything but run like zombies.
"Okay, now do it five times!" Fredy yells at them before joining Alvaro and Ozzie.
"They're really quiet today." Ozzie lets out a bark of laughter and shakes his head while Alvaro raises an eyebrow. "Or maybe that's the just power of Fredy Montero."
Alvaro sticks his leg out and looks at Ozzie. Ozzie shoves Fredy's shoulder so that he trips over Alvaro's leg. Fredy looks up at them with a shit eating grin and they roll their eyes.
"Your eyes light up when you look at him," Fredy tells Ozzie a few minutes later and Ozzie levels a glare at him.
Alvaro is directing a passing drill. He looks like a stick figure with his hands on his hips and whistle perched precariously between his lips. Ozzie knows he's staring but he can't help it.
"Don't get me wrong- I think it's cute."
"Shut up, Fredy."
Fredy laughs for a minute before the boys finish their drill and Alvaro lets them have a water break. He watches as Dennis and Val continue to kick a ball between them while they drink from their water bottles.
"Are the boys doing okay?" Ozzie finishes the rest of Fredy's question in his head, 'Without their mothers?'
"Yeah, they're good." Ozzie twists to the side and pops his back; he avoids the real, though unspoken, question.
"I can babysit." Fredy's mischievous grin is back. "You know, if you two want to go out on a date."
When Fredy turns to walk away, Ozzie kicks him in the ass and laughs at his yelp.
*
Liang doesn't make the journey back to Seattle when Dennis is seen by a court appointed counselor. Ozzie takes him after practice, in the middle of Dennis's school day. The ride over is a study in contrasts- Dennis is excited that he's missing school and Ozzie is terrified that somehow he is an unfit parent and the counselor will recommend that Liang receive full custody. Dennis knows he's going to answer some questions, but Ozzie hasn't told him why. He doesn't want to influence Dennis in anyway. If it does turn out that Dennis would rather live with Liang and that she is better for him, well… Ozzie doesn't want to think about it.
"You know I love you more than anything?" Ozzie tells his son as they sit in the car.
Dennis is at the age where it's not always cool to tell your parents you love them, the age where you're right in between innocence and realizing people can be bad. Ozzie looks at his son in his too-big Sounders beanie and puffy jacket, beaming up at him with a smile that is missing a tooth. Dennis returns the sentiment before leaning over to hug his father. Ozzie has to bite the inside of his cheek and furiously tell himself not to cry. He can't lose Dennis because Dennis is all he has left.
The waiting room is the standard, sterile government room with CDC posters on the wall informing people how to stay healthy during the cold and flu season, as well as outdated posters of smiling children. There's a woman sitting five seats away from him, but cigarette smoke surrounds her like a cloud and adds to Ozzie's discomfort. The tick of the generic 1970s style clock on the wall behind him gives rhythm to the dancing chaos in his mind. He thinks of his family in Cuba, of leaving them for Liang. He thinks of Liang leaving him and taking Dennis away. A man is nothing without his family; Dennis is Ozzie's life and he is nothing without him.
The counselor calls Ozzie back into her office to speak with him; Dennis busies himself in the corner with a magazine that's all bright colors and cartoons. Her first question is to ask why Dennis's mother isn't there and Ozzie can only shrug. The counselor doesn't bat an eyelash- she's probably used to less than perfect parents.
"He's well adjusted," she tells Ozzie, flipping through her notes. "The divorce doesn't seem to be affecting him." She frowns as she finds whatever she's looking for. "Dennis didn't mention his mother, only that she left because she didn't like it here. He says you live with Alvaro and Val now?"
"They live next door," Ozzie mumbles. "Alvaro's wife is in Uruguay and the boys are best friends."
"How often are they together?"
"We pick them up from school together, coach their team together, pretty much live together."
She nods and returns to scribbling down notes. As she asks him questions for the next twenty minutes, Ozzie wonders if she knows how to smile or if she's forgotten. Her smiles are probably saved for the children who need them.
"Dennis's mother needs to come in for an interview." She closes the file. Looking up, she sees how tense he is and gives him what he thinks is an encouraging, though terse, smile. "This went well."
Ozzie lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
*
The land around them is flat and the sky a never-ending blue with puffy white clouds. It's almost as if the sky wants to trick him into believing he is back in Cuba. He's not though and as the signs and billboards in English speed past he tries to ignore the overwhelming fear that threatens to drown him.
The bus's last stop was in Orlando and now he is surrounded by people wearing Mickey Mouse ears and children who have consumed too much sugar. They're loud, but Ozzie doesn't mind- it's a good distraction. Ozzie wants an army of children, but he knows Liang only wants one or two. He cracks a crooked grin when thinking about ways to convince her otherwise.
Ozzie feels his heart beating in his throat when he thinks of her. He's worked his ass off for years for this moment and now that it's a few hours away, he's nervous. Ozzie's nervous that she won't be in love with him anymore, nervous that she might have moved on. His mind tells him he's a penniless foreigner and that there are better choices for Liang. Ozzie's heart tells him he'll never love someone as much as he loves her.
*
The Sounders are eliminated in the semifinals of the MLS Cup and while everyone is crushed, no one is surprised. The curse lives on. It's a crappy end to another excellent season, but they still have the Cascadia Cup and US Open Cup on their shelf as well as the CONCACAF Champions League to look forward to. The Sounders U-7 team dominates their competition, leading to two proud coaches and two even prouder dads. As they win the U-7 round robin tournament, Ozzie and Alvaro can't keep the smiles off their faces.
"Hey, dad?" Dennis has ice cream smeared on his face as he takes a break from shoveling his sundae into his mouth to stare at his dad. "Are you divorcing mom so you can marry uncle Alvaro?"
Ozzie chokes on the ice cream he is eating. Dennis is looking up at him expectantly and Ozzie is at a panicked loss. He's glad Alvaro has taken Val to the bathroom, because he doesn't want to be any more mortified. Looking around, he makes sure no one has heard Dennis.
"No," Ozzie tells his son. "Our divorce has nothing to do with uncle Alvaro."
"Oh." Dennis frowns as he takes another bite of ice cream. His words are mumbled as he says, "Val and I wanted two dads."
"You want to call Alvaro 'dad'?" Ozzie has to work hard to keep surprise out of his voice and off his face. "You don't want another mom?"
Dennis wrinkles his nose as he shakes his head. "Girls are gross."
"You're gross." Ozzie flicks the tip of Dennis's ear and his son shrieks. "Where do you get these ideas?"
"Because you sleep in the same bed and Allie has two mommies so why can't we have two dads?"
It's a good question, but Ozzie doesn't know how to answer it. He doesn't have to though, because Alvaro and Val return from the bathroom and the boys chatter amongst themselves. Alvaro's fingers brush against the inside of Ozzie's wrist and Ozzie forgets everything.
*
At the beginning of December, Alvaro takes Val back to Uruguay to see Veronica and to visit his family. They'll be gone for three weeks and Ozzie knows every day will be miserable. The first week is especially difficult because Dennis is still in school and as they're out of season, Ozzie doesn't have anything to do but jog and putter around the house. Even though they've been living in Alvaro's house, it seems empty without him and Val, so Ozzie and Dennis retreat back into their house. At night as he stares at the ceiling of his guest bedroom, he feels the distance stretch between him and Alvaro. He feels more alone and adrift than he ever has.
"Are you going to miss me?" Alvaro smiled at him as Ozzie ran his fingers over the smooth skin of Alvaro's hip.
"No."
"Liar."
A silence passed between them; Ozzie continued to trace the lines of Alvaro's bare chest. Alvaro was always pale, Ozzie perpetually tan; Ozzie liked to watch as a faint red began to blush across Alvaro's body.
"Ozzie." There was a hitch in Alvaro's voice and Ozzie had pulled his hand away.
"You're coming back, right?"
It was only four words, but that was all it took to reveal how insecure Ozzie was over whatever he had with Alvaro. Alvaro had frowned before reaching for Ozzie's hand.
"I will never make you chase after me," Alvaro had told him before brushing his lips over Ozzie's.
Alvaro doesn't have to make Ozzie do anything; Ozzie would follow Alvaro anywhere.
*
A week before Christmas the courts grant Ozzie full custody of Dennis. Ozzie feels like he can finally breathe.
*
It's an out of body experience when he steps off the bus in Miami and sees Liang standing there. She's three years older; a girl of eighteen is now a woman of twenty-one. As she reaches for him, Ozzie feels all the tension bleed from his body. Her scent surrounds him, sweet and like the coconut oil she puts in her hair, and her body is soft as it presses against him. He closes his eyes as he feels the burn of tears.
"Ozzie," she repeats his name over and over like she can't believe he's really there.
She doesn't let go of him, not in the car, not while they're eating, not as a scout from Chivas USA talks to him about a trial with them in Los Angeles. She doesn't let go of him until she falls asleep, bare skin pressed against him as they lie entangled on her small bed.
"I waited so long," her lips murmur against his chest before she drifts off. "I'm so happy you're finally here."
As he watches her sleep, he tries to calm his mind. Ozzie always has to be two steps ahead of where he is now and he thought that would end when he reached the end of this journey. The journey isn't over though and his mind is a raging storm of uncertainty. Still adrift, he hasn't passed the ocean's test yet. He pulls Liang closer to him and closes his eyes; she is his anchor and he knows they'll make it through.
*
Ozzie thinks Alvaro must have spent his entire three weeks in the sun, because he's tanner than Ozzie's ever seen him. Despite the long flight and the tired aura his body gives off, Alvaro pulls a smile on his face for Ozzie and Dennis; he looks like he'll collapse into a pile of bones at the slightest hint of a breeze. They boys are speaking at a mile a minute, riding the escalators up and down as their dads wait at the baggage claim. Ozzie and Alvaro are leaning against a rail, shoulders brushing.
"I have to send Val for part of the summer," is Alvaro's way of telling Ozzie the divorce went through on his end too. "Veronica says we should just retire to a team in Uruguay. I told her she and Mateo should move to Spain."
"Mateo?" Ozzie's eyebrows are at his hairline. "Spain?"
"Her fiancé. He's nice, has two sons that got along well with Val."
Ozzie doesn't really know what to say, so he doesn't say anything except, "And Spain?"
Alvaro jerks his head toward where Dennis and Val are kicking an empty bottle around. "We should learn Catalan."
Dennis insists on helping Alvaro pull the suitcases to the car. Ozzie listens as Alvaro asks Dennis what he's done the past few weeks, laughing as Alvaro flicks Dennis's ear. Val is sleepy from the long plane ride and Ozzie is carrying him on his back.
"Hey, Dad?" Val mumbles into his ear. "We missed you and Dennis."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Not as much as we missed the two of you."
Ozzie knows he's grinning like an idiot, but he doesn't care. He buckles a barely awake Val into the backseat and makes sure Dennis buckles his seatbelt. Popping the truck open, he helps Alvaro load the bags into the trunk. There's no one else in this part of the parking garage when Alvaro grabs Ozzie's wrist and pulls him close.
"Three weeks was too long," he murmurs across Ozzie's lips.
If Ozzie could remember how to speak, he would voice his agreement. He can't though; all he can think of is Alvaro's warm lips against his and that offer of Fredy's to watch the boys.
*
For a while Ozzie contemplates telling his parents the truth about his relationship with Alvaro. He wonders if they'll be as accepting and open as Alvaro's family. Deep in his heart he knows they won't be. They still don't understand why he left Cuba. It saddens him that they'll never leave and that he can never go back. They'll never meet their grandsons and they'll never meet Alvaro.
It's better this way. He doesn't want to hear them say it's not normal to raise children this way or that he's living in sin. Ozzie doesn't need his family or God to tell him what he feels for Alvaro and the love he has for their family isn't normal. Ozzie's never been a fan of normalcy anyway.
He watches as they play outside in the snow, patiently forming a small ball to be rolled larger for the base of a snowman. It snows in Uruguay and Alvaro is used to it- it's been almost ten years since he left Cuba and Ozzie still isn't. He'll never get used to it if he stays inside, so he piles on layers of outerwear and puts up with Alvaro and their sons mocking him and pelting him with snowballs. As Dennis and Val make snow angels, one short and one tall, Ozzie presses Alvaro against the side of the house but waits for Alvaro to initiate the kiss. They're both too much of an alpha male to let the other fully dominate no matter what the situation.
"Ewwwww!" they hear the boys shrieking. "Kissing is gross."
Ozzie feels Alvaro's laugh against his mouth. Neither of them stops and Ozzie makes sure they can see as he swipes his tongue against Alvaro's lower lip. They boys scream like they're in pain.
Ozzie doesn't need normal when what he has is perfect.
*
Every night Ozzie spends a few minutes watching his sons sleep and counting his blessings. There have been many in his life, and the man who stands with him and makes sure they're asleep is one of the best. He thinks about the roads he has traveled, his trials and tests, and knows he has done everything in his power to make sure he and the ones he loves have everything they need.
As he lies in bed pressed against Alvaro, Ozzie listens for the ocean but his mind is quiet. Ozzie doesn't hear the water; he doesn't feel like he's adrift. Alvaro clutches Ozzie's hand in his on top of his chest. As Ozzie falls asleep he feels the steady beat of Alvaro's heart; he feels the land beneath his feet.
Notes:
- thank you albion_lass for beta'ing, understanding my deep obsession with the Sounders, listening to me sob during Erik-gate, and for being the best cheerleader ever.
- part of the title is from Dos Gardenias
The air tastes of gas fumes and smog. The oppressive Houston summer beats down on him as he stands by the side of a highway entrance, hand up and thumb erect. He’s already sweat through his shirt and it clings to him like a sticky second skin; he’s not sure if it’s the sun or anxiety. Dark eyes are trained on the ground, face pointed to the ground, so no one can identify him. All they see is a hitch hiker, someone heading toward something or perhaps running away. Ozzie is doing both.
A car pulls over, a beat up old Bronco, but to Ozzie it’s the gates to heaven. A man asks where he’s going, first in English and when he doesn’t, can’t, respond he asks again in Spanish. It’s native, rolls off his tongue, but Ozzie doesn’t know the accent.
"Miami," Ozzie tells him in Spanish, "I need to go to Miami."
The man asks him if he has any money; Ozzie shakes his head no. He has nothing but the clothes he’s wearing and a few pictures in his wallet.
"Illegal?" the man asks and Ozzie doesn’t know what that means. The man clarifies, "Sneak in from Mexico?"
Ozzie shakes his head. "Cuba."
*
Every night Ozzie spends a few minutes watching his son sleep and counting his blessings. Every moment of Ozzie’s life, every hardship and heartache, he’d relive over and over again knowing his son will have the best possible life Ozzie can give him. His most prized possession, Ozzie wonders what Dennis dreams about as his chest slowly rises and falls with each breath.
Ozzie dreams of his childhood, of the mountains and valleys, of the tobacco fields of San Cristobal and Pinar Del Rio. He tastes the sticky sweetness of a fried plantain, and hears his grandmother scolding him for wiping his fingers on his shorts. The sky is blue and impossibly large, but with each passing day, it fades and shrinks until it’s translucent and he sees the bars surrounding it. People point to the north and say in whispered words ’90 miles’. 90 miles and the bars will be gone. There are two types of people who can leave Cuba- the rich and the desperate. The rich can buy visas, but there are more visas than people who will ever be able to afford them. The desperate take matters into their own hands and leave in the middle of the night on rafts made out of wood, empty bottles, and hope.
The ocean is a cruel giver of a harsh test. To pass is to be free, to live. To fail is to die, to be forgotten in a watery grave. There are more graves; these days he dreams of those who perished. They surround him, decaying corpses screaming and crying words muffled by the ocean. Water drips from them as they ask him why he lived.
Ozzie wakes up before they hurt him. He listens as the ever present rain beats a pattern of guilt on his window. He lies alone, staring at the ceiling.
*
Fredy is rolling on the ground shrieking with laughter as Lamar looks at him like he’s gone insane. Ozzie is annoyed at their reaction and even more annoyed that Alvaro agrees with them. At least Servando is polite enough to turn around before he starts laughing.
"The two of you," Lamar repeats as if he didn’t hear them the first time, "are coaching peewee soccer?" They nod and Servando loses it, joining Fredy on the ground. "Six to seven year olds?"
Ozzie knows he and Alvaro would not be anyone’s first choice as coaches for their children at such a young age. They’re probably not anyone’s tenth choice either. Both are notoriously hot tempered and Ozzie will be the first to admit that his nickname of ‘Honey Badger’ is accurate in describing him. Their sons, though- Ozzie will do anything for Dennis and Alvaro will do the same for Val. Even coach a soccer team of uncoordinated six and seven year old boys. Ozzie is not sure if Dennis will still want to play soccer a few years from now, much less professionally, but he is damned sure that his son will have the best foundations possible. If there is one thing Ozzie knows for sure, it’s that the best and only way to get something done is to do it yourself.
*
Weekend mornings alternate between the Alonso and Fernandez households. Most of the time they start the night before with movies and video games. They wake at hours that are ungodly and cause complaint during the week but no one bats an eye at during the weekend. Val insists on watching Liverpool to see Luis Suarez dart around the field, bringing Liverpool closer to reclaiming their dominance of England. A signed poster hangs in his room as well as a jersey signed by the entire team. Other great Uruguayan player’s signed posters adorn his walls as well. It’s Val’s dream to play for Uruguay in a World Cup just like his father did.
Dennis’s walls have no autographs other than from teams who come to Seattle to play friendlies and from the Sounders themselves. Ozzie doesn’t, can’t, talk to his former national teammates. Dennis will never have the opportunity to play for the same country his father did. His father will never go to a World Cup because he doesn’t have a country he can play for.
Their world stops when Barcelona plays. There are heroes and then there are gods. Xavi and Iniesta are Dennis and Val’s gods. Ozzie and Alvaro hear them talking at night, of La Masia, of Camp Nou, and of how someday they’ll be the most famous players in the world. People will forget Pele, Maradona, Ronaldo, Messi, and there will only be Dennis and Val. They’re a package deal; there is not one without the other. They go to the same school, eat together, play together, and dream together. Sometimes Ozzie considers asking Alvaro to move in because he can’t count the number of times he’s found Val asleep next to Dennis or had to go to Alvaro’s to get Dennis. Best friends and brothers- they’ve been this way since their mothers left.
*
"Who is she?"
The last man left him at a bus station with enough money so he wouldn’t go hungry and enough faith that he would get where he was going. An old woman is sitting next to him on a bus to Georgia, on her way to see her daughter. She’s from Mexico, and he thinks of the illegals the last man told him about. He wonders if anyone would arrest an old woman and force her to leave her home.
He’s flipping through the pictures in his wallet, crumpled pictures of his family, of his parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, brothers and sister, and others he might never see again. At 21 years of age, Ozzie’s not sure if he’s ready for the concept of ‘never again’. His eyes linger on one picture in particular.
"She was my girlfriend."
"Was? What happened to her?"
The old woman is kind, insists on feeding him from the large basket of food she’s brought with her. She reminds him of his grandmother, the way she clucks her tongue and tells him he’s too skinny and he would look more handsome if he stopped scowling and would grow his hair out. When she figures out where he is from and what he’s just done, she embraces him and pets his arm. Ozzie didn’t expect to find kindness like hers.
"She left, three years ago."
He sounds different when he speaks about Liang. His voice is normally flat, monotone, but there’s a breath of life in it when he speaks of her. The old woman smiles, the laugh lines on her face deepen.
"She is why you’re going to Miami?" Ozzie nods. "She’s very lucky to have a man who would give up so much to join her."
He tries not to think of it as gaining and losing. He tries not to think of it as paying for his freedom, for a chance at a better life with the woman he loves. It’s a steep price- your family, your job, your country, and everything you have ever known. Ozzie grits his teeth. There are no do-overs and there is no going back. He is adrift in the ocean and can only pray he’ll feel land under his feet again.
*
The school year is easy. Ozzie and Alvaro drop the boys off at school before carpooling to practice. Practice lets out just as school does and they are there fifteen minutes after the last bell. Dennis and Val never notice when their fathers are late because they’re too busy seeing who can go higher on the swings or hold onto the monkey bars longer.
The summers used to be easy, when Liang and Veronica were around. Life was easier when they were around. Summers are now charts of meticulously detailed schedules of camps, practices, games, travel schedules, and the rare days off. Ozzie thinks what was originally a hardship is now a blessing. He is closer than ever to his son.
"Don’t run!"
Ozzie’s not sure how the boys have convinced him to take them to the local pool. The day after a game should be spent sleeping and being unproductive around the house. Instead he’s on a plastic lounger that’s digging into his back as what sounds like a thousand children shriek and splash in the pool. Alvaro’s lounger is empty- he’s in the parking lot on the phone with his wife.
Ozzie hasn’t spoken with Liang in over a month other then saying a clipped hello before handing the phone to Dennis. She’s been gone for almost a year, back to Miami to live with a cousin. Seattle was too cold, too gray, and Ozzie wasn’t surprised when she left. Somewhere along the way the line connecting them snapped and Ozzie drifted away to face the ocean again. He's not alone this time though.
Alvaro calls for Val, and Ozzie finds himself soaking wet as Dennis climbs into his lap. They watch as Alvaro gives the phone to his son, who dutifully speaks to his mother, smile on his face. Dennis doesn’t smile when he talks to his mother. He used to ask about her every day, about when she was coming back. He’s glad his son stopped asking- he was tired of lying to him.
Hanging up the phone, Alvaro collapses in the chair next to him as the boys return to the water. He reeks of sunscreen and faintly of the cherry tootsie pop they ‘confiscated’ from the boys; his lips and tongue are stained red. Ozzie doesn’t understand how Alvaro stays so skinny.
They don’t talk about their wives. Ozzie didn’t question it when Veronica went back to Uruguay to care for her sick mother instead of bringing her to the United States. Alvaro didn’t ask why Liang stopped visiting. It’s as if everything but their sons and soccer ceased to exist. Ozzie doesn’t mind.
"Val’s getting tall," he comments as he watches his son jump onto Val’s back.
"In another year he’ll be taller than you," Alvaro responds- Ozzie extends his middle finger. Alvaro is silent for a minute before saying, "They’re not going to be here to see it."
Ozzie doesn’t answer. He thinks back to his mother, of kissing her goodbye. Of knowing that it could be the last goodbye and he couldn’t tell her. He thinks of his wife leaving their son. He wonders if all leaving is the same, no matter how you try to justify it.
Alvaro reaches across the space between them and squeezes Ozzie’s hand.
*
The first day of coaching Dennis and Val’s team puts Ozzie in a melancholy mood. As he watches the fifteen boys being dropped off by parents who have the time and money to give their children a leg up, he thinks of his parents and how different the first field he played on was. The grass at Starfire is always green, free from divots, and precisely manicured. As the boys run their warm up lap, he sees brand new cleats and shin guards that have little to no wear on them.
Ozzie remembers being his son’s age, playing barefoot in the park close to their house. There wasn’t grass, and he remembers the dust flying around them, the dirt cool on his feet as the sun and exertion brought sweat to his skin, the smell of the tobacco fields all around them. His father played professionally, but professional soccer in Cuba is like amateur leagues anywhere else. His father worked hard to make sure Ozzie had what he needed. He was the first boy in his neighborhood to have cleats, but his father refused him shin guards until he entered an academy. His shins were always sore; his father would say each bruise was a lesson. Shin guards were a luxury, a right that he had to earn. The children from wealthy families had shin guards, children with parents who were plantation owners or worked for the government, children who carried Cuba in their hearts. Ozzie carries Cuba in his heart, but she’s a memory of a faded and bygone era before Ozzie was born.
"Are you still with me?" Ozzie blinks and turns to look at Alvaro, who smiles at him. "I thought I might have lost you there for a minute. You okay?"
"Just… just remembering what it was like playing at their age." The smile on Alvaro’s face falters and he looks away. "It’s okay; I won in the end, right?"
Ozzie doesn’t really believe that, but he tells himself that to not feel like a coward who ran away. They’re silent for a minute before Alvaro looks at him again. There’s something different in this look than normal, but Ozzie isn’t really sure what it is.
"You’re the strongest person I know," Alvaro tells him. "And I mean it."
"Yeah, you know it," Ozzie mutters, brushing it off. "You know, barefoot and hills and whatever that saying is."
"You walked to school barefoot, uphill, in the snow both ways? It doesn’t snow in Cuba, you fucking liar."
"Fuck that. They don’t have roads in Cuba- we climbed cliff walls during hurricanes to get to school."
Ozzie thinks Alvaro is unusual looking, a handsome that is outside of the norm. When he laughs, Ozzie can’t take his eyes away.
*
Liang calls the night before Dennis’s first game to tell Ozzie she’s in town. She wasn’t sure if it was okay to come by the house. Ozzie doesn’t have anything to say to her, but asks how long she is staying. She tells him a week, maybe longer.
Dennis doesn’t see her in the crush of parents lining the fence at the game. Alvaro sees her first, and asks Ozzie if he knew she was coming, his lips pressed tightly together. Ozzie grunts and shrugs; Alvaro frowns. He alternates between barking instructions to his team and stealing glances at his wife. Her skin has soaked up the Miami sun and she’s smiling brighter than he’s seen in a while as she watches Dennis play. When she smiles, he remembers why he left Cuba. He sees her talking to the other parents and wonders if she introduces herself as Dennis’s mom or his wife first.
They win 4-2 and after they have lined up and high fived the other team, Dennis sprints over and throws his arms around him.
"Did you see that Dad? I scored, and we won and…" Dennis babbles on in excitement and Ozzie laughs, picking his son up and spinning him around in a circle.
"Look who’s here," he points out Liang to Dennis.
A smile blossoms across his son’s face as she calls out to him. Dennis is shy as she approaches them, hesitantly reaching up for a hug. Ozzie realizes it’s been two months since Dennis has seen her. She moves toward Ozzie; they share a brief embrace, and he’s pretty sure they both know it’s just for show. She’s wearing a different perfume and not wearing her wedding ring. Ozzie wonders if she’s seeing someone. He has to restrain himself from frowning. He doesn’t want Dennis to see his father frowning at his mother. There are a lot of things Ozzie wants, but he’s learned wanting and having rarely go hand in hand.
That night when he takes off his ring for the Sounders match, he doesn’t put it back on afterward.
*
The wooden pews are as hard and uncomfortable in America as they are in Cuba. He’s found refuge and a bed for the night in a church in a Cuban neighborhood in Atlanta. It’s Wednesday night and the Church is almost full. Ozzie sits in the back, an outsider amongst familiar strangers. They speak his language with his accent but most have never been to Cuba.
Tonight the priest gives a sermon on forgiveness. Ozzie isn’t in the mood to forgive or be forgiven. As he stares at an unmoving Jesus nailed to a polished, wooden cross, he feels he deserves punishment over salvation. The tiny silver cross around his neck feels heavy and he feels in his bones how tired he is. The choir sings- as their voices rise he struggles so tears won’t fall. By now, his parents must know he’s gone. Are they happy their son has run or angry he left? Do they grieve that he is gone or are they embarrassed by his actions? Does he deserve forgiveness for thinking of only himself?
As they kneel and bow their heads in prayer, he mimics their actions. He doesn’t pray for forgiveness for himself because he’s not sure if he deserves it. Instead, he prays that his family can forgive any blame they might lay on themselves.
*
Their sons are out with Liang for the day, out at the Pacific Science Center and probably up to the Space Needle as well. Alone for maybe 30 minutes, the silence feels unnatural; he’s about to pick up the phone to call Alvaro when he hears a key in the front door and Alvaro walks in. Ozzie realizes that they’ve been together for so long at this point that being apart feels wrong. Alvaro is an extension of himself- a single yet married father, trying to raise a young boy in a foreign land.
"I think she wants to take Dennis back to Miami," he tells Alvaro during a commercial- they’re watching the Mariners get destroyed.
"Did she tell you that?"
"Why else would she be here?"
Alvaro doesn’t look up from the TV screen. "She shouldn’t have wasted a trip then."
Ozzie thinks Alvaro knows him better than Liang ever did. She goes back to Miami a few days later without saying goodbye, but more importantly, without Dennis.
*
Even though European soccer is over, the sleepovers continue. The weekend pours over into the week. At some point Ozzie and Alvaro find themselves at IKEA purchasing identical bunk beds to replace the beds in the boy’s rooms so they each have their own. Something about furniture shopping with Alvaro seems so domestic that it should feel not normal but it doesn’t. Ozzie feels like he has lived like this for more than a year, and he’d been content to live like this forever.
He stops sleeping in the bedroom he shared with his wife. Half of the week he sleeps in his guestroom, the other half he sleeps on Alvaro’s couch. Ozzie prefers the couch because it’s not in his house. This is the first house he bought, a symbol of everything he’s worked for. It’s the house where he, his wife and son were a family. They’re not a family anymore and now that house stands as a reminder that nothing is certain. It’s full of memories and chains, and Ozzie is no stranger to running away from either of those things. Neither is his wife. He wonders if those who leave are destined to never find a place to call home again, to drift without feeling land beneath their feet.
As Ozzie lights the grill in the backyard he sees Dennis laugh and smile as he passes a ball to Val, who shoots and scores against Alvaro in goal. He reminds himself that home is not a place but people. They feel like home- Dennis, Alvaro, and Val feel like home. If he runs, this will all be gone. Ozzie’s not willing to take that risk.
*
Being on the road is hard for everyone. Ozzie used to say it was because he missed his bed, but he doesn’t really have one anymore. No, he misses his son and Val, and he doesn’t like worrying about them. They’re in good hands; they’ve have the same nanny for the past year. Ozzie and Alvaro still call before every meal and before they go to bed. That’s changed too- Ozzie used to room with Fredy and Alvaro with Mauro. Mauro’s gone now, retired back in Argentina on some farm where he probably kicks balls at chickens. Fredy pretends to be offended, but they know he’s fine playing Fifa with Jhon and the others.
Their teammates tease Ozzie and Alvaro, calling them an old married couple. When the team goes out, they rarely join them. They hurry home after practice to spend time with their sons instead of waiting after to avoid responsibility. In the past, Ozzie would have been annoyed with his teammates, but he’s not anymore. They do act like an old couple. Ozzie’s okay with that; it makes him feel better knowing Dennis has Alvaro as a role model instead of just him.
"I hate this," Alvaro tells him after hanging up with the boys. "It’s not supposed to be like this."
"How’s it supposed to be?" Ozzie is feeling cynical tonight.
"I don’t know," Alvaro huffs and flops face down next to Ozzie on the bed. Turning his head and cracking an eye open, he stares at Ozzie’s hands. "Why’d you stop wearing your ring?"
"What’s the point in pretending?"
The next morning Alvaro’s ring isn’t on his finger.
*
"I know who you are."
Service has ended and the congregation has had their fill of cookies and coffee. There’s a small apartment attached to the back of the church for the priest. The old man has been nice enough to let Ozzie stay in his guest room, use his shower, and feed him. He says it’s God’s will, but Ozzie knows the old man is just kind. Most of the people he’s seen doing God’s will are doing their own and justifying twisted actions by associating God’s name with it.
"I think you’re mistaken."
The priest smiles. "The tides bring us to Florida, not Texas."
Ozzie laughs and shakes his head. There’s no trying to fool the priest in his house and by extension, a house of God. Smile still on his face, the priest bids Ozzie goodnight. Ozzie knows that if he wanted to, he could stay here for a few more days and work enough odd jobs to pay the priest back for his kindness and for his own ticket to Miami. Time is money though, and he doesn’t like relying on others for help.
When the priest wakes for morning mass, Ozzie is already gone.
*
"Dad, we’re going to be late."
"Wake up!"
"Unnnnppphhffffff."
The sun is barely up over the mountains. Cracking his eyes open, he sees his son and Val looking down at him. Groaning, he pulls his blanket over his eyes and rolls over. As the couch shifts beneath him, he realizes he’s both fallen asleep on the couch again as well as fallen asleep on Alvaro again. It’s the third night in a row they’ve fallen asleep on the couch. Alvaro manages to sleep sitting up, but Ozzie always finds himself stretched out and using Alvaro as a pillow.
"Daaaaaaaaad!"
"Oonnnffffff." He grunts as the boys jump onto him in their attempts to wake him up.
He hears Alvaro tell them to go eat something and they slide off of him. It’s still too early. Ozzie knows there is no way he and Alvaro slept for more than four hours. His sleep-addled mind is barely aware of Alvaro talking to him; he hears words but takes no notice of them. A hand rests itself on the back of his neck, fingers tracing slow circles to coax him from sleep. He finally turns over and opens his eyes. Alvaro’s hair is sticking up in all directions and the blanket has imprinted red lines on his face.
"Hey," Alvaro half says, half yawns.
It’s one word, more like a noise from the back of Alvaro’s throat, but Ozzie still smiles. There’s this weird feeling in his stomach, a weightless then clenching sensation, like he’s hungry but that’s not it. Alvaro smiles down at him and the feeling intensifies. Ozzie frowns.
"What’s wrong?" Alvaro mirrors Ozzie’s frown.
"Nothing."
Alvaro laughs. "Only you would frown when nothing’s wrong." Ozzie grins. "Oh Jesus, that’s an ugly face- go back to frowning."
"Fuck you," Ozzie chuckles as he shoves Alvaro off the side of the couch.
Alvaro makes a weird ‘unfff’ sound as he falls off, and Ozzie finds himself being pulled down and tumbling after him. His limbs are still weak with sleep and he mock fights Alvaro. The boys come rushing back into the room and jump on top of them. Ozzie works with them to pin Alvaro down and they cheer when Alvaro gives up. Val and Dennis scamper off to change for the game and Ozzie pulls Alvaro to his feet.
"Do you think this is normal?"
"I don’t know what normal is," Ozzie tells him. "Why?"
"No reason."
The rising sun highlights Alvaro’s disarrayed hair and throws shadows onto his face. His smile is brighter than the shadows, one of the most beautiful things Ozzie has ever seen; his stomach feels weightless again.
*
As they drive to the game, Ozzie thinks back to a time when he thought he knew what normal was. Normal meant routine: wake up at six to do chores around the house before hitching a ride to the practice grounds on the outskirts of Pinar Del Rio. The academy was wave after wave of changing faces- if you weren’t prepared to give your best and be the best, there were always five other kids waiting for your spot. Ozzie remembers days when he would throw up multiple times during practice, but still run back onto the field, fearful of being thought of as weak. Ozzie has a no-bullshit attitude and he knows it’s from his fear of not being good enough as a child. He looks in the rearview mirror at his boys- he never wants them to feel that way.
After the game, a few parents are discussing the expanding Sounders Junior Academy and whether or not Ozzie and Alvaro will be coaching. They tell the parents they are not sure, but Ozzie already knows the answer is yes. His sons dream of La Masia, and while that is still their dream, he’ll do whatever it takes for it to happen. As he watches them kick a ball back and forth, he wonders when he started thinking of Val as his son.
*
Liang comes for the boys' last match of the summer. It’s early Sunday morning and Ozzie and Alvaro are still worn from the Sounders game the previous night. If it’s possible for someone to look sad and resolute, that’s how she looks with her shoulders stiff but eyes sad. She comes bearing hugs and gifts for Dennis and divorce papers for Ozzie. He’s not surprised. If anything, he’s relieved. Alvaro doesn’t question it when Ozzie asks him to take the boys home without him after the game. It doesn’t escape his notice that she’s filed for full custody of Dennis.
Ozzie doesn’t remember life before Liang. She’s been a constant his entire life. He remembers sticking gum in her hair and when she would get angry enough to chase him with sticks. He remembers that first feeling, realization, that he loved her, and the way her body fit against his the first time they kissed. When she left Cuba, he shut out the world and concentrated on being the best because the best played for Cuba in tournaments and that would be his only chance to leave. He left for her only to have her leave again. Ozzie’s too old for chasing and games, not when he has Dennis to think about.
"He needs his mother," she tells him softly.
"Then she shouldn’t have left him." Ozzie’s voice is stiff.
"Ozzie." She frowns, looks upset, and he knows she genuinely is, but he can’t let her get to him or she’ll win. "You know I couldn’t stay here. Maybe if you came back?"
"No. This is my home. This is Dennis’s home. This is where the people he loves live. I’m not taking that away from him."
"This isn’t what he is," she protests. "We’re Cuban, he’s Cuban- he needs to grow up knowing who he is."
"If I wanted my son to be raised Cuban, I would have never left Cuba."
From the look on her face, Ozzie know he’s both hurt her and struck a chord. He doesn’t know what she came here expecting, but she should know Ozzie will never let Dennis go.
"I’m not letting you take my son away from me." She folds her arms in front of her.
"I didn’t have to- you walked away from both of us." She scowls at him. "Look, what do you want me to say? You ran away. What type of message does that show Dennis? It’s okay to run away from your problems?"
"Like you’ve never run away before?" she grumbles; Ozzie grits his teeth and counts to ten.
"I did. I left Cuba for you. I left my family for you. I did it once, I won’t do it again."
Ozzie stands from the table and leaves. The conversation won’t get them anywhere except angry. He’ll let lawyers do the rest of the talking for him.
As he drives home, a million thoughts are racing through his mind. He’s worried his schedule will hurt his case for custody. He grits his teeth- he’ll retire and work as a janitor before losing custody of Dennis. On the other hand, Liang doesn’t work and she’s all but left them. Ozzie prays he has a stronger case. He sits parked in the driveway for a few minutes. It’s not even noon yet, but he feels like he’s been awake for days just drifting. He’s vaguely aware of the car door opening and Alvaro sliding in next to him.
"She’s not going to take him away from you," Alvaro tells him, taking one of Ozzie’s hands. He interlaces their fingers and gently squeezes, trying to anchor him. "She’s not going to take him from us."
He barely hears what Alvaro says, the words just bounce around in his head. The silence hangs over them for a few minutes until Val and Dennis run by, shrieking and shooting each other with water guns. They see their fathers sitting in the car and spray the window, laughing before they run off again. Ozzie blinks. He can’t lose this.
"Us?" he finally says.
"Us." Alvaro slumps down in the seat far enough to be able to rest his head against
Ozzie's. "Us."
*
The bus is half empty and Ozzie is sitting by himself. There are still enough unfilled seats for people to steer clear of him. Who would want to sit next to him anyway? He’s been wearing the same clothes for two days and has a scowl on his face. That scowl’s been a permanent fixture for the past three years.
A normal person would say ‘with any luck, that scowl will go away soon’. Ozzie isn’t normal and he doesn’t believe in luck. Ozzie believes in hard work and getting things done instead of wishing and hoping on something as flippant as luck.
*
At seven, Dennis is old enough to understand what divorce is. Ozzie is ready to call child psychologists and therapists if Dennis seems upset. He isn’t, though, and when Ozzie explains Mommy and Daddy won’t live together anymore, Dennis asks if they got divorced last year. Ozzie thinks Dennis is too smart sometimes.
"I get to stay with you, Alvaro and Val, right?" Dennis asks. "I don’t want to leave."
"Is that what you want?" Ozzie asks as Dennis crawls into his lap and shakes his head yes. Ozzie wraps his arms around the son he cherishes. "Okay."
*
September and October are a never ending hell. Ozzie and Alvaro are coaching the boy’s age level at the Sounders Junior Academy, raising their sons, dealing with lawyers, and playing twice a week both at home and on the road. The last week of September, they’re gone for nine days straight. They come home to tearful sons who don’t want their dads to leave again. They do though, every week for 2-3 days. Everyone hates it.
Alvaro starts sleeping next to him, first only on the road and eventually they claim the guest bedroom in Alvaro’s house as theirs. There’s nothing sexual about it yet; they’re both too unsure and uneasy to know exactly how to take the next step. Ozzie likes waking up next to someone who expects the same things of him that he does of them. He sometimes feels like they are the same person in two bodies.
At night, Alvaro is always the first to sleep. Ozzie watches him, silk hair spilled across his pillow and mouth slightly open. When he worries about the divorce or the future, he reaches across the small space between them and rests his hand next to Alvaro’s- not touching but close enough to feel body heat. He contemplates what ‘us’ means and whether or not Alvaro wants what Ozzie wants. Except Ozzie’s still not sure what he wants and Alvaro is still married. All Ozzie knows is the man sleeping next to him makes him feel strange, but in a good way.
*
They’re on the road when something finally does happen. Alvaro has scored a brace and the elation on his face as he jumps into Ozzie’s arms is a catalyst. Everything seems clear in that one moment, and as boos and jeers rain down, all Ozzie can feel is the heat of Alvaro against him. Ozzie knows he wants something more.
The happiness is there one moment and gone the next as Fredy is taken down in a bad two-footed tackle and Alvaro is in the offending defender’s face. Ozzie’s mind tells him to stay back, that getting involved is not a good idea, especially since he’s sitting on three accumulated yellows and Sigi has been clear with Ozzie about controlling his temper on the pitch. The defender pushes Alvaro to the ground; Ozzie’s body ignores his brain. He’s in front of Alvaro in a blink of an eye, snarling and shoving the defender back. It’s the closest he’s ever been to punching someone on the field, but Alvaro is back up and pulling him away before he does something and becomes suspended for the rest of the season.
"Ozzie, stop," Alvaro snaps as Ozzie struggles against his hold. "It’s not worth it."
The defender is shown a red and Ozzie a yellow; he could care less. He doesn’t bother looking at the bench where he’s sure Sigi is staring at him furiously from underneath the pile of outerwear that always accumulates on the coach. It only takes three minutes for the ref to blow his whistle and motion to the sidelines. Ozzie is subbed off as the crowd boos him. He grabs a Gatorade and a blanket before storming to an empty section of the bench where he won’t have to speak to anyone. When Alvaro is subbed off fifteen minutes later, he doesn’t sit next to Ozzie.
Alvaro doesn’t talk to Ozzie again until late that night. A few of the guys go out, and for a change, Alvaro goes with them. Ozzie is still in a foul mood despite their win. He’s already in bed when Alvaro returns drunk, stumbling to the point where Fredy and Jhon have to drag him in. Ozzie doesn’t remember the last time he saw Alvaro drunk or even have more than one drink.
"You know," Alvaro tells him a few minutes later, after the other two have left and he’s not as far gone, "I don’t need you to protect me."
"I’d defend anyone on the team," Ozzie snaps, rolling his eyes as he hears Alvaro stand and feels the bed dip. "Don’t feel special, you’re no different."
"Liar." Ozzie rolls over and stares stonily at Alvaro. "You’re a goddamned liar. Don’t you fucking lie to me."
"You’re drunk." Ozzie wrinkles his nose; Alvaro smells of booze and smoke. "And you reek- go sleep in the other bed." He tries to roll back over, but Alvaro grabs his shoulder and forces him flat on his back. "What’s your goddamned problem Alvaro?"
Alvaro stares at Ozzie for a minute, his eyes glazed and almost black in the barely lit room. Ozzie is about to push Alvaro off of him when Alvaro leans down and presses their lips together. It’s angry- Ozzie feels more of Alvaro’s teeth and rum-laced tongue than his lips. He’s frozen, unsure of what to do or how to react. His body reacts for him though, and he gently pushes Alvaro away.
"You’re drunk," Ozzie tells him.
"Don’t fucking tell me I’m not different or that this isn’t special," Alvaro growls.
Alvaro looks angry, but Ozzie knows he’s upset and scared. Ozzie understands, because it’s exactly how Ozzie feels. Sighing, Ozzie shifts and pulls the blankets down so Alvaro can slide in next to him. Alvaro looks uncertain, so Ozzie just pulls him down. Instead of sleeping with a space between them, Ozzie rests his head against Alvaro’s chest and wraps an arm around him.
"I’m sorry," he mutters.
"Me too." Ozzie feels the vibrations of Alvaro’s words. "Ozzie, I want… I want us, for us to…"
"I know, I want it too. But there are some things we need to take care of first."
They fall asleep, the weight of unworn wedding rings ever present in the back of their minds.
*
"Do you mind if I sit here?"
Ozzie doesn’t understand his words, but by the way he is looking at the open seat, it’s clear the boy wants to sit. Ozzie nods, pulls himself closer to the window. He doesn’t take up much space; he’s always been on the small side.
Their conversations are short exchanges of shaky words. The boy speaks elementary Spanish with an accent that would normally make Ozzie laugh. He doesn’t laugh though- he can’t speak English aside from hello, goodbye, thank you, please, and go to Miami. The boy is going home from college for the summer. As Ozzie understands it, most boys his age in the United States are at college or university. The boy eventually falls asleep listening to some sort of music player Ozzie’s never seen before.
Ozzie can’t help but feel jealous. He wonders how different his life would be if he was born here. It’s not that he isn’t proud of being Cuban, his heart already aches for home, but he knows there are opportunities he was denied because of it. He supposes that’s true of everyone no matter what situation they’re born into though. But there’s no point in dwelling in the past; Ozzie will make his own opportunities.
Leaning his head against the cool window, he closes his eyes and sees silky black hair and a vibrant smile. He counts the minutes until he will see her again.
*
The court awards Ozzie temporary custody of Dennis as the divorce begins to pick up momentum. His lawyer is optimistic Ozzie will win full custody. Ozzie isn't so sure- his schedule doesn't lend him much confidence. Liang's lawyer will use his busy schedule against him, his temper against him, and every bad trait he has against him. Ozzie finds it uncomfortable that he feels like he's going to war with the one person he was supposed to love forever. Part of him wonders if he ever really loved her or if he just thought he did. His heart constricts painfully- he knows he loved her but now he doubts she ever loved him as deeply as he loved her.
"Maybe she was testing you," Alvaro tells him as they prepare dinner one night. "She left to see if you would follow and you did." Ozzie pauses stirring the pot to watch Alvaro carefully dice carrots. "She left again and she's angry you didn't follow."
"I'm not leaving." Ozzie returns to stirring the bubbling liquid. "Miami doesn't have anything I want."
"And Seattle does?"
Ozzie turns to look at Alvaro again. His shoulders are hunched as he meticulously makes sure each cut vegetable is the same size. Alvaro's shirt hangs off his bony frame; Alvaro's clothes always hang off of him because of his lanky build. The thought of Alvaro wearing his baggy shirts, cooking in the kitchen with him, raising their sons together, and sharing their future together- Ozzie can't think of anything else he's wanted as bad as what he wants with Alvaro.
"Yeah, it does."
Ozzie loves the way Alvaro's nose scrunches when he smiles.
*
The boys are staring at Fredy like he's a God. The striker is demonstrating a series of drills for them while Alvaro and Ozzie snigger at the boys' expressions. When they blow the whistle, the boys are too busy gaping at Fredy to do anything but run like zombies.
"Okay, now do it five times!" Fredy yells at them before joining Alvaro and Ozzie.
"They're really quiet today." Ozzie lets out a bark of laughter and shakes his head while Alvaro raises an eyebrow. "Or maybe that's the just power of Fredy Montero."
Alvaro sticks his leg out and looks at Ozzie. Ozzie shoves Fredy's shoulder so that he trips over Alvaro's leg. Fredy looks up at them with a shit eating grin and they roll their eyes.
"Your eyes light up when you look at him," Fredy tells Ozzie a few minutes later and Ozzie levels a glare at him.
Alvaro is directing a passing drill. He looks like a stick figure with his hands on his hips and whistle perched precariously between his lips. Ozzie knows he's staring but he can't help it.
"Don't get me wrong- I think it's cute."
"Shut up, Fredy."
Fredy laughs for a minute before the boys finish their drill and Alvaro lets them have a water break. He watches as Dennis and Val continue to kick a ball between them while they drink from their water bottles.
"Are the boys doing okay?" Ozzie finishes the rest of Fredy's question in his head, 'Without their mothers?'
"Yeah, they're good." Ozzie twists to the side and pops his back; he avoids the real, though unspoken, question.
"I can babysit." Fredy's mischievous grin is back. "You know, if you two want to go out on a date."
When Fredy turns to walk away, Ozzie kicks him in the ass and laughs at his yelp.
*
Liang doesn't make the journey back to Seattle when Dennis is seen by a court appointed counselor. Ozzie takes him after practice, in the middle of Dennis's school day. The ride over is a study in contrasts- Dennis is excited that he's missing school and Ozzie is terrified that somehow he is an unfit parent and the counselor will recommend that Liang receive full custody. Dennis knows he's going to answer some questions, but Ozzie hasn't told him why. He doesn't want to influence Dennis in anyway. If it does turn out that Dennis would rather live with Liang and that she is better for him, well… Ozzie doesn't want to think about it.
"You know I love you more than anything?" Ozzie tells his son as they sit in the car.
Dennis is at the age where it's not always cool to tell your parents you love them, the age where you're right in between innocence and realizing people can be bad. Ozzie looks at his son in his too-big Sounders beanie and puffy jacket, beaming up at him with a smile that is missing a tooth. Dennis returns the sentiment before leaning over to hug his father. Ozzie has to bite the inside of his cheek and furiously tell himself not to cry. He can't lose Dennis because Dennis is all he has left.
The waiting room is the standard, sterile government room with CDC posters on the wall informing people how to stay healthy during the cold and flu season, as well as outdated posters of smiling children. There's a woman sitting five seats away from him, but cigarette smoke surrounds her like a cloud and adds to Ozzie's discomfort. The tick of the generic 1970s style clock on the wall behind him gives rhythm to the dancing chaos in his mind. He thinks of his family in Cuba, of leaving them for Liang. He thinks of Liang leaving him and taking Dennis away. A man is nothing without his family; Dennis is Ozzie's life and he is nothing without him.
The counselor calls Ozzie back into her office to speak with him; Dennis busies himself in the corner with a magazine that's all bright colors and cartoons. Her first question is to ask why Dennis's mother isn't there and Ozzie can only shrug. The counselor doesn't bat an eyelash- she's probably used to less than perfect parents.
"He's well adjusted," she tells Ozzie, flipping through her notes. "The divorce doesn't seem to be affecting him." She frowns as she finds whatever she's looking for. "Dennis didn't mention his mother, only that she left because she didn't like it here. He says you live with Alvaro and Val now?"
"They live next door," Ozzie mumbles. "Alvaro's wife is in Uruguay and the boys are best friends."
"How often are they together?"
"We pick them up from school together, coach their team together, pretty much live together."
She nods and returns to scribbling down notes. As she asks him questions for the next twenty minutes, Ozzie wonders if she knows how to smile or if she's forgotten. Her smiles are probably saved for the children who need them.
"Dennis's mother needs to come in for an interview." She closes the file. Looking up, she sees how tense he is and gives him what he thinks is an encouraging, though terse, smile. "This went well."
Ozzie lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
*
The land around them is flat and the sky a never-ending blue with puffy white clouds. It's almost as if the sky wants to trick him into believing he is back in Cuba. He's not though and as the signs and billboards in English speed past he tries to ignore the overwhelming fear that threatens to drown him.
The bus's last stop was in Orlando and now he is surrounded by people wearing Mickey Mouse ears and children who have consumed too much sugar. They're loud, but Ozzie doesn't mind- it's a good distraction. Ozzie wants an army of children, but he knows Liang only wants one or two. He cracks a crooked grin when thinking about ways to convince her otherwise.
Ozzie feels his heart beating in his throat when he thinks of her. He's worked his ass off for years for this moment and now that it's a few hours away, he's nervous. Ozzie's nervous that she won't be in love with him anymore, nervous that she might have moved on. His mind tells him he's a penniless foreigner and that there are better choices for Liang. Ozzie's heart tells him he'll never love someone as much as he loves her.
*
The Sounders are eliminated in the semifinals of the MLS Cup and while everyone is crushed, no one is surprised. The curse lives on. It's a crappy end to another excellent season, but they still have the Cascadia Cup and US Open Cup on their shelf as well as the CONCACAF Champions League to look forward to. The Sounders U-7 team dominates their competition, leading to two proud coaches and two even prouder dads. As they win the U-7 round robin tournament, Ozzie and Alvaro can't keep the smiles off their faces.
"Hey, dad?" Dennis has ice cream smeared on his face as he takes a break from shoveling his sundae into his mouth to stare at his dad. "Are you divorcing mom so you can marry uncle Alvaro?"
Ozzie chokes on the ice cream he is eating. Dennis is looking up at him expectantly and Ozzie is at a panicked loss. He's glad Alvaro has taken Val to the bathroom, because he doesn't want to be any more mortified. Looking around, he makes sure no one has heard Dennis.
"No," Ozzie tells his son. "Our divorce has nothing to do with uncle Alvaro."
"Oh." Dennis frowns as he takes another bite of ice cream. His words are mumbled as he says, "Val and I wanted two dads."
"You want to call Alvaro 'dad'?" Ozzie has to work hard to keep surprise out of his voice and off his face. "You don't want another mom?"
Dennis wrinkles his nose as he shakes his head. "Girls are gross."
"You're gross." Ozzie flicks the tip of Dennis's ear and his son shrieks. "Where do you get these ideas?"
"Because you sleep in the same bed and Allie has two mommies so why can't we have two dads?"
It's a good question, but Ozzie doesn't know how to answer it. He doesn't have to though, because Alvaro and Val return from the bathroom and the boys chatter amongst themselves. Alvaro's fingers brush against the inside of Ozzie's wrist and Ozzie forgets everything.
*
At the beginning of December, Alvaro takes Val back to Uruguay to see Veronica and to visit his family. They'll be gone for three weeks and Ozzie knows every day will be miserable. The first week is especially difficult because Dennis is still in school and as they're out of season, Ozzie doesn't have anything to do but jog and putter around the house. Even though they've been living in Alvaro's house, it seems empty without him and Val, so Ozzie and Dennis retreat back into their house. At night as he stares at the ceiling of his guest bedroom, he feels the distance stretch between him and Alvaro. He feels more alone and adrift than he ever has.
"Are you going to miss me?" Alvaro smiled at him as Ozzie ran his fingers over the smooth skin of Alvaro's hip.
"No."
"Liar."
A silence passed between them; Ozzie continued to trace the lines of Alvaro's bare chest. Alvaro was always pale, Ozzie perpetually tan; Ozzie liked to watch as a faint red began to blush across Alvaro's body.
"Ozzie." There was a hitch in Alvaro's voice and Ozzie had pulled his hand away.
"You're coming back, right?"
It was only four words, but that was all it took to reveal how insecure Ozzie was over whatever he had with Alvaro. Alvaro had frowned before reaching for Ozzie's hand.
"I will never make you chase after me," Alvaro had told him before brushing his lips over Ozzie's.
Alvaro doesn't have to make Ozzie do anything; Ozzie would follow Alvaro anywhere.
*
A week before Christmas the courts grant Ozzie full custody of Dennis. Ozzie feels like he can finally breathe.
*
It's an out of body experience when he steps off the bus in Miami and sees Liang standing there. She's three years older; a girl of eighteen is now a woman of twenty-one. As she reaches for him, Ozzie feels all the tension bleed from his body. Her scent surrounds him, sweet and like the coconut oil she puts in her hair, and her body is soft as it presses against him. He closes his eyes as he feels the burn of tears.
"Ozzie," she repeats his name over and over like she can't believe he's really there.
She doesn't let go of him, not in the car, not while they're eating, not as a scout from Chivas USA talks to him about a trial with them in Los Angeles. She doesn't let go of him until she falls asleep, bare skin pressed against him as they lie entangled on her small bed.
"I waited so long," her lips murmur against his chest before she drifts off. "I'm so happy you're finally here."
As he watches her sleep, he tries to calm his mind. Ozzie always has to be two steps ahead of where he is now and he thought that would end when he reached the end of this journey. The journey isn't over though and his mind is a raging storm of uncertainty. Still adrift, he hasn't passed the ocean's test yet. He pulls Liang closer to him and closes his eyes; she is his anchor and he knows they'll make it through.
*
Ozzie thinks Alvaro must have spent his entire three weeks in the sun, because he's tanner than Ozzie's ever seen him. Despite the long flight and the tired aura his body gives off, Alvaro pulls a smile on his face for Ozzie and Dennis; he looks like he'll collapse into a pile of bones at the slightest hint of a breeze. They boys are speaking at a mile a minute, riding the escalators up and down as their dads wait at the baggage claim. Ozzie and Alvaro are leaning against a rail, shoulders brushing.
"I have to send Val for part of the summer," is Alvaro's way of telling Ozzie the divorce went through on his end too. "Veronica says we should just retire to a team in Uruguay. I told her she and Mateo should move to Spain."
"Mateo?" Ozzie's eyebrows are at his hairline. "Spain?"
"Her fiancé. He's nice, has two sons that got along well with Val."
Ozzie doesn't really know what to say, so he doesn't say anything except, "And Spain?"
Alvaro jerks his head toward where Dennis and Val are kicking an empty bottle around. "We should learn Catalan."
Dennis insists on helping Alvaro pull the suitcases to the car. Ozzie listens as Alvaro asks Dennis what he's done the past few weeks, laughing as Alvaro flicks Dennis's ear. Val is sleepy from the long plane ride and Ozzie is carrying him on his back.
"Hey, Dad?" Val mumbles into his ear. "We missed you and Dennis."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Not as much as we missed the two of you."
Ozzie knows he's grinning like an idiot, but he doesn't care. He buckles a barely awake Val into the backseat and makes sure Dennis buckles his seatbelt. Popping the truck open, he helps Alvaro load the bags into the trunk. There's no one else in this part of the parking garage when Alvaro grabs Ozzie's wrist and pulls him close.
"Three weeks was too long," he murmurs across Ozzie's lips.
If Ozzie could remember how to speak, he would voice his agreement. He can't though; all he can think of is Alvaro's warm lips against his and that offer of Fredy's to watch the boys.
*
For a while Ozzie contemplates telling his parents the truth about his relationship with Alvaro. He wonders if they'll be as accepting and open as Alvaro's family. Deep in his heart he knows they won't be. They still don't understand why he left Cuba. It saddens him that they'll never leave and that he can never go back. They'll never meet their grandsons and they'll never meet Alvaro.
It's better this way. He doesn't want to hear them say it's not normal to raise children this way or that he's living in sin. Ozzie doesn't need his family or God to tell him what he feels for Alvaro and the love he has for their family isn't normal. Ozzie's never been a fan of normalcy anyway.
He watches as they play outside in the snow, patiently forming a small ball to be rolled larger for the base of a snowman. It snows in Uruguay and Alvaro is used to it- it's been almost ten years since he left Cuba and Ozzie still isn't. He'll never get used to it if he stays inside, so he piles on layers of outerwear and puts up with Alvaro and their sons mocking him and pelting him with snowballs. As Dennis and Val make snow angels, one short and one tall, Ozzie presses Alvaro against the side of the house but waits for Alvaro to initiate the kiss. They're both too much of an alpha male to let the other fully dominate no matter what the situation.
"Ewwwww!" they hear the boys shrieking. "Kissing is gross."
Ozzie feels Alvaro's laugh against his mouth. Neither of them stops and Ozzie makes sure they can see as he swipes his tongue against Alvaro's lower lip. They boys scream like they're in pain.
Ozzie doesn't need normal when what he has is perfect.
*
Every night Ozzie spends a few minutes watching his sons sleep and counting his blessings. There have been many in his life, and the man who stands with him and makes sure they're asleep is one of the best. He thinks about the roads he has traveled, his trials and tests, and knows he has done everything in his power to make sure he and the ones he loves have everything they need.
As he lies in bed pressed against Alvaro, Ozzie listens for the ocean but his mind is quiet. Ozzie doesn't hear the water; he doesn't feel like he's adrift. Alvaro clutches Ozzie's hand in his on top of his chest. As Ozzie falls asleep he feels the steady beat of Alvaro's heart; he feels the land beneath his feet.
Notes:
- thank you albion_lass for beta'ing, understanding my deep obsession with the Sounders, listening to me sob during Erik-gate, and for being the best cheerleader ever.
- part of the title is from Dos Gardenias