𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞; oscar piastri ✔

SURPRISE

Word count; 4,625
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— Summer, 2014. Rosario, Argentina.

It had been eight years since Tristán had given up his name, and eight years since he'd promised to never look back. 

Where he'd leave cigarette lighters on the kitchen counter, he'd grown used to keeping them in the drawer. Trays full of ash on the coffee table had been replaced by old kids books from the library, over-expired, and bottles of fernet on the nightstand exchanged for cough medicine. Where he'd have time each evening to sit and focus on his hobbies - if he even had any - he'd left them to collect dust, a more significant matter to attend to. 

Where he'd preferred to be called by his Christian name, he'd made a habit of responding to the word Tano.

Tano, can we go to the park?

Tano, can we have capeletinis for dinner?

Tano, can you tie my shoelaces?

Because, eight years ago, he didn't just lose his name.

He gained another one. 

"Come on, Mauro, it's time for bed." He knelt on the carpet by the frame. "Come on, boy."

His nephew, head previously buried in a book, nodded obediently, stuffing his legs beneath the covers. Tano aligned the sheets so they reached his shoulders, making sure they were loose enough to be kicked off during the night - as he so often did - and kissed his forehead. He spent the next hour picking up rogue toys around the apartment. Such duties were what kept him away from more simpler leisures. 

But Tano didn't care.

Before Mauro, he was a mechanic working for a firm deep in the city, specialising in contracted vehicles and car rentals. He worked Monday through Saturday, his day off spent at church and then at the local football game. Now, his hours were much kinder, so that he could pick Mauro up from school every day. He didn't have to work Saturdays anymore, because he had Mauro to take to field hockey. 

And he hadn't even planned it. 

He'd had girlfriends, sure. Short-term flings that eventually got fed-up of him working all the time, despite their dream of settling down. What makes you think you can settle down in this economy without working? Tano would think. 

He'd had a family. A brother, younger than him, who'd died years prior, leaving his daughter in the care of his wife and her relatives. 

She was the only thing that kept him smiling. 

Making sure to sit next to him at church, to make him something for lunch that he could feed on over the next few days. She ran a garden bed at school, and delivered him flowers with each harvest. 

Until she met Lucas. 

Tano didn't know how. Just that, in a matter of weeks, Marieta was completely head over heels for him; spending Sundays at his, school afternoons at his, delivering him homemade dulce de leche and freshly cut tulips. Tano didn't particularly care; of course, he missed the affection of his niece, but one of his colleagues had recently been made redundant, and the extra workload made plenty of a distraction. 

Except, one week turned to two. Two to three. All without hearing from her. 

One month.

Two months.

It was his sister-in-law that told him, "She's a disgrace and I want nothing to do with her." 

Tano couldn't understand. He'd never gotten on well with his brother's wife, but she'd never said anything bad about Marieta. She was the life of the family, the sunshine that ignited solemn winter mornings. And now they want nothing to do with her?