To Be Continued


     When I came home, Javier was sitting in his favorite chair looking at the television which wasn't on.  I walked passed, running my hand through his hair.  As I turned to face him, I noticed he had been crying.
"What's wrong?" I said calmly.  I didn't do the concern face, or put my hand on his knee.  Like I said before.  I think my heart is frozen.  It's not easy for me to show emotion.  I love Javier very much, but this was all I could muster.  He knew how I was, and he accepted it.  He didn't respond to my question, he just kept looking at the television.  His eyes were glazed over, and his eyes were puffy.
"What's wrong"  I repeated, this time putting my hand on his knee.  He seemed to snap out of his trance, and he stared at me.
"My Father died this morning"  he didn't start crying again, he just stared at me.  I wanted to look away, because I was uncomfortable with his stare.  I had no idea what to say to him.  I just stared back at him.  Finally he started to talk again.
"My Mom found him in the living room this afternoon.  He had a stroke."  It turns out Javier's Mom went to the store, and when she came back, she found her husband dead on the floor.  I wished Javier would have called me at work, because I would have come home.  But I don't think he thinks like that.  He never want's to inconvenience anybody.  In that aspect he's like me, so I understand.  Looking at this big man, with his puffy eyes, and dried tears on his cheek pulled at my heart.  I wanted to cry too.  This was a weird feeling for me.  Maybe I'm not THAT dead inside.  
     I kept rubbing his knee, while he sat in his chair with his head in his hand.  What do I do to make things right?  Do I sit here and rub his knee forever?  I don't know.  I'm a heartless bastard.  I got up, went to the side of the chair where his head lay in his hand.  I put my hand behind his head, and pressed my head against his.
" I'm sorry Javier. I...."  What do I say?  What do I say?
" Do you want anything?" I asked "Anything?  Whatever you want,  I'll do it"
" I need to go back to New York"
" Okay, I'll take care of things here" Whew, finally something I can do.
" I'd like you to come with me" He lifted his head up, and looked at me.  He grabbed me, and started to cry in my chest.
" I need you to come with me, I don't think I can do this alone" He started to sob really hard.  His face was distorted with pain, and he was gasping for air.
" Yeah, yes.  Anything.  I'll go with you.  I'll ask to take a week off, or something"
" I want to live there again" He said.  Did I hear right?
" What?  What Javier?" I stammered
" I need to be with my family.  I'm too far away.  I want to be with my Mom"  he continued his sobbing.
" Uhh...then, uhh...do you want me to take care of the house?" What was going on?  I think Javier's breaking up with me.  I felt sick.
" No, no" he said.  He looked up at me. " I want both of us to live there.  Me and you.  Please say you'll go, please.  I need you so much right now."
" Okay, okay, I'll...I'll go with you"  he grabbed me tighter as if relieved.  What did I just agree to?  I can't go to New York to LIVE.  My family is here.  My Niece is here.  My life is here.  I don't want to go.  What do I do?  What do I do?  What do I do?
     Later in the night after Javier calmed down.  He sat with me and made plans.  He needed to take care of his Mother.  His Brothers and Sister were all married with kids, and Javier felt it was his responsibility to take care of his Mom.  She couldn't move here, because most of her kids were in New York.  Javier couldn't ask her to move here, it would be selfish.  Ask!  Ask! I thought, please for the love of God, ASK!   I don't want to go.
     I called my work and told them of the situation.  Javier didn't know, but I told my work that I only needed five days off.  As Javier told me his plans for us, I was making my own plans on telling Javier of how I don't want to live in New York.  Javier already booked us on a flight for tomorrow morning.  His plan is for us to go up there for the funeral, then come back and make arrangements to sell his house.  Or how he put, "Our" house.  That remark made me feel guilty.  I can't tell him tonight of my decision.  I'll wait.  Procrastination.  It's a good thing.