6. Lazaro

6

LAZARO

I t’s an understatement that I’m surprised Diana found me. I'm acutely aware of her presence. It's unsettling how she affects me, how she seems to see past the walls I've put up.

It’s even more shocking that she just suggested I’m a whiny brat. It pisses me off, but not the way seeing Tony pull a gun on Elio did. It angers me because deep down, I know she’s right.

Her expression morphs, and I see the fear I’ve been seeing in people all day. It rips me to shreds even as it angers me more.

But I hold on to the anger. “You’re mocking my pain.”

“No. But you have a family who is worried.”

I shrug that away, not wanting to think about my family right now. They expect me to be someone I’m not. Or maybe I am that person and I just can't remember. The thought sends a chill down my spine.

"They lived without me for three years.” I turn back to the car, unable to look her in the face, another thing that pisses me off. "What difference do a few hours make?"

She’s quiet and I hope she’ll leave. “Why did you come home, then? You made a new life for yourself. You don’t remember your family, and yet you packed up and returned home. Why?”

I grit my teeth, irritated by her perceptive question. She's hit a nerve, and I don't like how easily she seems to read me.

"Maybe I thought it'd bring back my memories," I mutter. “But it’s only been one frustration after another.”

“You’ve stuck around. Even with all the frustrations family brings, you haven’t left.” Diana moves closer, her presence both comforting and unsettling.

"Where else would I go? They're… they're supposed to be my family."

"Exactly," Diana says softly. "You want to belong, even if you can't remember why."

“I’m not who they think I am.” God, I sound like I’m whining.

“It’s early days. They need to get to know you again. That doesn’t change that you belong to them. Lana spent years looking for you. How do you think she feels right now with you missing again? She’s not at home thinking, ‘Well, he’s not the same so let him go.’ She’s frantic.”

Fuck. Now she’s indicating that I’m a selfish bastard. I glare at her, hating how she makes me feel.

"Why do you care, anyway?" I snap, but there's no real heat behind my words.

Diana shrugs, unfazed by my outburst. "I think it would be nice to have a family who cared about me enough to worry about me.”

I frown. “You don’t have a family?”

“Foster kid, remember?”

Jesus fucking Christ… I’m the worst. How did I forget? Probably because it seems so unlikely a woman like her didn’t have people in her life who cared about her. She radiates joy. She’s kind and nurturing. How is it no one has made her a part of their family?

“Anyway, I know what it's like to want a family, to belong somewhere. Maybe that's why you came back, even if you can't remember them. Deep down, you want that connection."

I turn away, unable to argue with her logic. “Yeah, well, maybe I’m going to change my mind.” It doesn’t escape me that I’m acting like a petulant child.

“You think that will stop Lana from finding you?”

I grunt a non-response.

“I’d be happy if someone worried enough to come looking for me.”

"No one's ever come looking for you?" I ask, my voice gruff but softer than before.

"Not really. I've always been on my own. People come and go, but… yeah, no one's ever cared enough to chase after me."

The casual way she says it, like it's just a fact of life, bothers me more than I care to admit. I think about how my family's out there right now, searching for me, worried sick. And here's Diana, who's never had anyone give a damn whether she disappeared. It’s too crazy to believe.

"That's… that's not right.”

She smiles. “It won’t always be like that. Someday, I’ll have a family. I’ll find my place, I just know it.” She says it with such sureness. I look at her, really seeing her for the first time. Despite everything, there's no bitterness in her eyes, no resentment. Just a quiet acceptance that makes my chest ache in a way I don't understand.

"I'd notice," I blurt out before I can stop myself. "If you left, I mean. I'd notice."

Her eyes widen in surprise. Hell, I'm just as shocked by my own words. I barely know her, yet the thought of her disappearing without a trace doesn't sit right with me. It's unsettling, this realization that in such a short time, she's become someone I'd miss.

Then she smiles, and it’s like the sun has risen for the first time. "You would?"

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. There's a vulnerability in her eyes that makes me want to look away, but I can't. Instead, I find myself drawn in, wanting to erase that loneliness from her gaze.

I give my head a shake to rid myself of the enchantment she has on me. "Look. I just needed some space. To think. To… process." I gesture vaguely at the car. "This helps."

Diana nods, her eyes traveling over the partially dismantled vehicle. "I can see that. You seem more at peace here."

Her observation catches me off guard. I hadn't realized how obvious my change in demeanor was.

“You do know you have a garage filled with cars back at your house, right?”

I hadn’t forgotten. I just hadn’t been thinking when I was walking around in the after-haze of nearly beating a man to death with his own gun.

“It’s hard to be home when they see a person that I’m not.”

Diana nods, her eyes full of understanding. "Must be tough, feeling like a stranger in your own home."

"I want to belong," I confess, surprising myself with my honesty. "But I don't know how to be the person they remember. And their concern… it's suffocating sometimes."

"It's okay to feel that way. It's a lot to deal with."

Her understanding both comforts and frustrates me. I don't want to need anyone's sympathy. I don’t want to talk about my fucked up life.

“Is that why you move all the time? Looking for a place to belong?”

Her eyes flash with pain and then acceptance. “I guess. Sometimes, I wonder if I don’t stay long enough in a place to find my people, you know. I get restless, wanting the next adventure.”

“Are you restless now?”

“Not yet.”

“What was it like… growing up in foster care? Unless that’s too personal.” I’m curious, but it’s probably rude to ask. Considering my history, my lack of social skills is something that has always been with me.

“No, it’s okay. I bounced from home to home until I turned eighteen," she says, her eyes distant but not sad. "It wasn't always easy, but I learned to adapt, to find the good in each situation. I learned to cook. One family taught me how to speak Spanish, which has come in helpful sometimes. You just make do with what comes along, you know?"

I shake my head, amazed at her resilience. "How can you be so positive about it?"

Diana laughs. "What's the alternative? Being bitter won't change my past. I choose to focus on the future, on the family I might build someday."

Her optimism is foreign to me, almost incomprehensible. Here I am, surrounded by a family that wants me, and all I can feel is frustration and anger. Meanwhile, Diana's been alone her whole life, yet she radiates hope.

Her words make me think about my own situation in a new light. I may not remember my family, but they're here, trying their best to help me. Maybe I've been too quick to push them away.

“I’m not very positive.”

She reaches out, her hand hovering near mine before she thinks better of it and pulls back. It’s ridiculous how badly I want her to touch me.

"It's okay to struggle with this, Lazaro. Just… don't shut them out completely, yeah?"

I need to get my shit together and stop being such a jerk. With a sigh, I wipe my hands on a nearby rag. “Can you give me a ride home?”

Diana's face lights up with another radiant smile that makes my brain short circuit.

"Of course.” She pulls her keys from her purse.

As we reach the door, Diana waves at the mechanic lurking in the shadows. "Thank you.”

I pause, turning to the mechanic who watches me warily. “"Hey, uh… thanks.”

The mechanic nods, his eyes darting between me and Diana. There's a hint of surprise in his expression, like he can't quite believe what he's seeing.

"No problem," he replies, his voice cautious but not unkind.

I follow Diana to her beat-up car and slide into the passenger seat. The car is small, clean, yet clearly on its last leg. As she gets into the driver’s seat, I become acutely aware of how small it is. Her scent fills the air. Her warmth reaches out to me.

She looks at me happily. “Ready?”

I nod, finding myself drawn into her green eyes. Warmth and longing fill my chest. She bites her lower lip, and a carnal thought fills my brain, causing my dick to twitch. I jerk my gaze away, hoping she can’t see the bulge in my pants.

She begins to drive. Silence fills the car, and I’m afraid my response caused awkwardness.

"This thing's seen better days," I comment, inwardly kicking myself for saying something disparaging about her car.

Diana just laughs, patting the steering wheel affectionately. "Oh, Miss Lola has got plenty of life left in her. Just needs a little TLC."

“Lola? You named your car?”

“Of course. Don’t you?”

My lips twitch up and I damn near laugh. It makes me think of how she made me laugh earlier. It shocked me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed.

As we drive, Diana chatters away about how she came to own Lola. She bought her from an actress in a small town theater playing the character of Lola in some musical called Damned Yankees .

“I would make food for the cast,” she says. “Anyway, when it was time to go, my car, Old Beater, died, so she sold me her car.”

“Old Beater? That’s not a name you want for a car.”

“Right?” she says, her voice and expression full of amusement. “That’s why this is Lola. It’s a sexy name for a car, don’t you think?”

I swallow, trying not to think about sex.

“She’s got me from San Antonio to Louisiana, and now here. And when the time comes, she’ll get me to Minnesota, right, Lola?” She pats the dashboard.

I don’t like the idea that she could be leaving. “What if you find your people here?” I ask it before I think better of it. The last thing I need is her thinking my family could be her family. I’m a fucking maniac. She can’t want to stay around me.

She glances at me and I hope my expression is impassive. “I guess I’ll stay. I’m open to whatever life brings. It’s part of the fun of it.”

"You're something else, you know that?" I say, shaking my head in amazement.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

“Definitely good. I don't know how you do it, staying so positive all the time."

She shrugs, still smiling. "Life's too short to focus on the negative. Besides, there's always something to be grateful for, if you look hard enough."

A part of me thinks she’s lecturing me, but as I watch her, I can see she really believes it. She must. She’s a woman who has no family. Nothing but a car that is running only on hope. And yet, she sees the world like it’s the Wonka Chocolate Factory.

As Diana pulls up to the house, I feel a knot in my stomach. But it's different now. It’s not dread. Not that it’s warm fuzzies, but it’s not so scary.

Before she can stop the car, the front door opens and Lana comes flying out. She yanks open the door.

“Lazaro!”

I step and she grips me, her face pressed into my chest. “I was so worried. Are you okay?”

The force of her embrace nearly cuts off my breathing. My arms wrap around her instinctively. I have the feeling I had when she showed up at the auto shop in Lafayette. It was a sense of knowing her, being connected to her, even though I had no clue who she was.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. I just… needed some time."

Lana pulls back, her eyes searching my face. "I understand. I'm just glad you're back."

She’s been a pain in my ass since I returned home. But as I look into her eyes, so much like mine, I can see her love for me. I saw it in Elio after I went nuts on Tony. A caring. A concern. This is why I came back, right?

“I’m sorry,” I say again.

“Next time, let me know, okay? Take your phone when you leave.”

I haven’t bothered with a phone over the last three years, so I’m not used to thinking about carrying it with me. I’ll need to do better to remember it.

"Yeah, I promise.”

“I know I’m a bitch sometimes, Lazaro. I blame you for that.”

“Me?” I laugh.

“When you were gone, I was always channeling you. What would Lazaro do?”

My smile falters. “I’m not a good person to emulate.”

“Shut up, Lazaro.” Her eyes narrow. “You’re the best.” She hugs me again. “Now, let's get inside and have something to eat.”

Suddenly remembering Diana, I turn to thank her for the ride home. But as I look around, I realize she's already gone. Her beat-up car is nowhere in sight.

I feel a pang of disappointment. It’s not just wishing I could have properly thanked her. She left without a goodbye. It’s like she’s vanished. I rub my hand over my chest that all of a sudden feels empty.

I don’t like it. What the fuck sort of spell has this woman put on me?