Sunday Snippet

 

Today's snippet is from my novella, Saying Goodbye. This story was part of the One Pulse Anthology put together by Dreamspinner Press after the Orlando Pulse nightclub massacre in 2016. Rights reverted to me after 3 years and I changed the title and cover. It's a bittersweet story about a homophobic father and his estranged son . Available at AMAZON  for $0.99.

Blurb

Joaquin Gallegos and his only son Mario have been at odds for years. Unable to accept his orientation, Joaquin tried everything to mold the boy into his image until he ran out of time. Reaching out from beyond the grave, Joaquin is given one more opportunity to make amends.

Saying Goodbye is a poignant reminder that loving your child as they are born, instead of rejecting them, for whatever reason, will ultimately bring joy rather than soul-crushing regret.

Snippet

Mario booted up his father’s laptop, jingling his leg as he waited impatiently for it to wake up. Ricky was dozing beside him, oblivious to his distress. The login screen appeared, and Mario entered as a guest.

There was a folder marked Coral Gables Gallery. He opened it and was stunned. The file was enormous, he realized as he scrolled through what must have been at least five hundred photos of his work, starting with pieces done early in his career to others that were shown as recently as five months ago.

There were also links to articles that sang his praises, and others that didn’t, but it seemed Joaquin Gallegos had collected anything he could find with Mario’s name on it. It was a virtual shrine to his public life, and Mario’s stomach clenched as he stared at the bright screen.

He shoved the laptop aside, hoping that would end the sudden anguish. Trying not to think about the time and effort it must have taken his father to compile the information, he grabbed a blunt and matches from his stash by the bed, and moved in a trance toward the french doors leading to the balcony overlooking lush flower beds in full bloom. The vibrant colors were a constant source of inspiration, and he soaked in the beauty as the moon cast its warm glow over blue hyacinth and pink daisies. Striking a match, Mario held the flame to the tip of the rolled paper and inhaled the heady smoke, hoping it would put him in a better place, but tears were ruining the scenery, and he shook his head angrily.

Why didn’t his father pick up the phone and apologize? Mario would have caved eventually. Instead he now possessed the bittersweet knowledge that Joaquin did give a shit after all; the harsh words, the cruelty, and the long, drawn-out silences had been unnecessary. He wondered what Ricky would make of this discovery. His partner despised Joaquin and everything he’d ever done to try to ruin Mario’s life.

Mario needed to look through the files to see exactly what his father wanted him to see. It was clear that this was his intention all along. He was leaving him a message from the grave, but Mario wasn’t sure he was quite ready to deal with it.

“Mario,” Ricky called.

“Coming.”

He stepped back inside, shut and locked the door, and drew the curtains, plunging the room into darkness. Naked within seconds, he slipped beneath the cool sheets, and Ricky slid closer, spooning against him the way he always did.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Mario murmured.

“You can talk about him if you want. I don’t mind.”

Mario turned over and stared at Ricky, who was wide awake and looking at him tenderly. Ricky moved a lock of hair out of Mario’s eyes and said, “I know how it feels to lose a parent. Even though Joaquin was an asshole, he was still your old man. You loved him, babe, in spite of everything. It’s okay to grieve.”