beatrice_otter: Drawing of a hippo in a red leotard and tutu, holding a rose in its teeth.  At the top it says "Yuletide! Featuring Beatrice_Otter as Rose Hippo" (Yuletide)
I only wrote one treat this year, although neither it nor my assignment were the YT story I spent the most time on. That would be a Sense and Sensibility AU that I realized I would not be able to finish in time, and thus have set aside to become a New Year's Resolution. We shall see if I actually finish it without the pressure of a deadline.

Anyway, I loved In the Heights, and I was happy to write this story about Kevin Rosario (Nina's dad). I got halfway into it and then realized the recip had DNW'd kidfic. And I didn't know if it meant they didn't want Nina, or if it was just a general DNW they hadn't realized might conflict with their In the Heights request. After some dithering (because it was like the 22nd, and thus REALLY LATE), I asked the mods and they passed on the question and it turned out that indeed it was a case of not realizing that their general DNWs would be a problem in one fandom. So I was able to finish and post the fic, and I like it.

Title: The Dance of Time
Fandom: In the Heights (2021)
Characters:
Kevin Rosario
Written For: Ljparis in Yuletide 2021
Length: 3280 words
Rating: general audiences.
Summary: Camila has been dead for a year, but grief isn't a straight line.

At AO3. On tumblr. On Pillowfort.

The first year after Camila died was mostly a blur for Kevin. He felt like the world had stopped, or that it should stop, that there should be a hole in it just like the hole in his life Camila had left behind. He worked, he took care of Nina, he slept. Sometimes, he'd realize he'd been staring at nothing for God only knew how long. There were whole days where he'd look back on it the next day and have no idea what had happened, what he'd done.

And there were other days where he wanted nothing so much as to go start a fight or crawl inside a bottle or take a spray can of paint and scrawl nasty words over the doors of the ER that hadn't managed to save his wife. Those days, he held on to his temper with both hands, and bought himself a lottery ticket if he got through the day without losing it.

On other days, he'd turn around expecting Camila to be there, forgetting she was dead. Those were the worst.

But he had the dispatch company, and it was twice as much work without Camila, and he had Nina, and he knew it was even harder on her to lose her mother than losing his wife was for him. And between Nina and the dispatch, he just didn't have time for any of the stupid pointless things he felt like doing, and sooner than he would have believed it a year had gone by and he and Nina were both doing okay. Camila's absence was a hole in their lives that would probably always be there, but the edges of it weren't raw and bleeding any longer. He felt like he could breathe again, like he was back on his feet.

Which was, of course, when Abuela Claudia started talking about setting him up on dates. "Have you met Paola?" she called from the kitchen one evening while Kevin was working on the dining room table. "She's the daughter of the Agostos who own the hardware store. I was talking with her mother the other day, and she's a very hard worker and good with kids. Pretty, too."

"Do you think I should hire her as a dispatcher or a babysitter?" Kevin asked, distracted, trying to get through the last of the invoices so he could turn them over to the bookkeeper. Camila had always done the accounts, and even hiring a bookkeeper to replace her, there was a lot to be done. And if he didn't get it done quickly, he might be late for Nina's concert. "I don't have any openings for a dispatcher right now—"

"No, silly," Abuela said with a laugh, "I think you should date her."

"What?" Kevin said, craning his neck to stare into the kitchen. "I can't date, it's only been—"

"It's been over a year, Kevin," she said. "You've been so lonely. And you've been working too hard. Surely you can take some time out for dinner and dancing occasionally?"

"I don't want to dance with anyone but Camila," Kevin said, forcing the words out through a throat that suddenly seemed too tight to speak. He clenched his teeth. He hadn't cried in months; why was this so hard all of a sudden?

Abuela Claudia put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. He hadn't noticed her come in from the kitchen. "That would be a terrible waste, I think."

Camila would think it a terrible waste, too, Kevin thought, and was grateful that Claudia hadn't said it. Camila had been a terrible dancer, but she liked to watch good dancers, and Kevin was very good. So they'd go out to clubs and he'd dance all night and she would sit at the bar and watch and shout encouragement and join him for some of the slow dances, where all you had to do was wrap your arms around your partner and sway. They hadn't gone dancing as much once Nina was born, and Kevin realized he couldn't remember the last time they'd done it. He looked down at the papers in front of him. "I have to finish these, or I'll be late for Nina."

Claudia squeezed his shoulder again and went back into the kitchen.




But Abuela Claudia wasn't the only one. "I got this friend, Nikki, she's a great dancer," Daniela said one morning as they bumped into each other while getting coffee at Usnavi's. "But she's new in town, doesn't know anybody or where to go. You could show her."

"I don't know where the hot places are right now, either," Kevin said.

Daniela rolled her eyes. "That, I can tell you. But she needs a partner. Come on, you'll have fun—I know you like dancing."

"You have a friend who wants to dance with men?" Kevin said.

"I know a lot of different types of women," Daniela said, "and most of them like men. You'd like her, she's really sweet. And a hell of a dancer."

"I just think it's too soon," Kevin said.

"Too soon?" Daniela rolled her eyes. "Nah, just the right amount of time. You need to get back out there before you forget how, my friend."




The next time Claudia suggested he take someone out (this time over dinner), he was ready. "No, no, abuela, how could any woman possibly compare with you?" he said, waving around a forkful of arroz imperial. She laughed, but didn't let herself be sidetracked, and so he heard all about what a good cook Stephanie Perez was.

Kevin looked at Nina and rolled his eyes, which made Nina giggle, and then he asked Claudia if that meant Stephanie was as good a cook as she was.

"No, no, of course not," Claudia said, "but that kind of skill comes with time and love. In thirty years, maybe."

"High praise!" Kevin said. "But, you know, I'd rather have the original than a copy." He got up and walked around the table to Claudia, took her hand, and kissed it. "Marry me, abuela, and I'll take you away from all of this forever!"

Nina collapsed into giggles, and he winked at her. Abuela Claudia jerked her hand out of his with a laugh and scolded him like a little boy.




"Are you gonna start dating again?" Nina asked as they walked home after dinner, hand in hand.

"I hadn't thought about it," Kevin said. "Abuela Claudia thinks you need another mother."

Nina made a face. "I have a mother."

"Exactly," Kevin said. "I wouldn't want anyone to take her place. But she's right that it might be good to have someone in the home so it's not just us by ourselves."

Nina shrugged.

"What do you think?" Kevin said. "Nobody would be replacing your mother. Nobody could. But would you like it if I had a girlfriend? Or would you be upset?" That was the key thing nobody had asked, he realized. Whether or not he wanted to start dating again, Nina's welfare mattered more to him than anything else.

She shrugged again. "I dunno," she said. "I guess it depends on whether I liked her or not."

"Fair enough," Kevin said.




Now that he was thinking about it, he couldn't stop thinking about it. He was lonelier than he'd realized, and it wasn't just grief. It was about wanting someone to help shoulder the load at the business. Someone to talk about his worries with. Someone to help figure out what was best for Nina. Someone to just … be there, so it wasn't the two of them alone night after night. He started inviting friends over for dinner more often, the way he and Camila had, and it was good, but then they went home and Nina went to bed and it was just him.

"Her name is Monica, Monica Cotto," Daniela said one morning over coffee. "I think you'd like her. She's a good dancer, and she's smart and ambitious—works at HR for Walgreens."

"That's nice," Kevin said.

Daniela rolled her eyes. "Look, Kevin, I get it, you don't want to move on. But Nina's growing older, and Claudia is wonderful but she's getting older, too. And Nina's not the only one in the neighborhood she's like a grandmother to. How often does she cook you guys dinner? It's been a year and a half. You can't keep leaning on her like that forever."

"Yeah," Kevin said, "I know."

"I'm not saying you have to go out and marry the next girl you meet," Daniela said. "Or any girl. But it might reassure Abuela Claudia that you're not a wreck any more, and it might do you some good to have some fun. Carla and I can watch Nina, maybe do her hair and nails."

Kevin sighed. She was right, he had been leaning too much on Claudia. "You say she works for Walgreens?"




"So, what do you think?" Kevin asked, twirling around for Nina to inspect him. He wasn't wearing anything terribly trendy, but the shirt was a deep blue that he liked, and the jacket flattered him. "How do I look?"

She leaned her head against the doorjamb and smiled. "Very handsome, papa," she said, but there was something off about it.

"Hey, if you're not okay with this, I can call it off," Kevin said.

"No, no, go on, I'll have lots of fun with Daniela and Carla," Nina said.

"You sure?" Kevin asked.

"I'm sure," Nina said confidently.

"Okay," Kevin said. He gave her a kiss on the forehead and headed out.




Daniela was right, he did like Monica; she was smart, and funny, and pretty, and didn't remind him too much of Camila. They were laughing over a story she'd told about one of her coworkers, which reminded him of a great story about one of their more bizarre customers, when his cellphone rang.

It was the car service. They wouldn't call him in the evenings unless it was an emergency. "I'm sorry, I have to take this," he said.

"Kevin, this is Karla, sorry to bother you but Victor's cab got rear-ended, and it pushed them into an intersection, and the oncoming car wasn't able to stop quickly enough."

Kevin's stomach twisted in knots. "Was anyone hurt?" he asked.

"Just bumps and bruises," Karla said. "But it was serious enough they called the paramedics out to check. The passengers are really shook up, and there's the car to deal with. I already got Maria to go pick up the fare and get them safely to their destination, but they might need some more attention to make it right. And then there's Victor and the car to deal with, and we're busy tonight it's going to be tough, being down a car."

"Yeah," Kevin said. He rubbed his face. He didn't have to go in, he supposed; he could step outside to call the customers and then come back in to finish dinner, and deal with the rest of it tomorrow. But he should go in, make sure everyone and everything was all right, and help them get things straightened out. "I'll be in as soon as I can." He ended the call and gave Monica an apologetic look. "I'm really sorry about this."

"I heard about the accident," Monica said. She smiled. "I hope everybody's okay, and you get things straightened out. Don't worry about me. I'd much rather a guy who's responsible and takes care of business, than some slob who couldn't care less."

"I really enjoyed tonight," Kevin said. "Maybe we can do this again sometime."

"I'd like that," Monica said.

Kevin threw some bills on the table to cover the meal, and hurried out.




The next week was a headache, sorting out the insurance claim and being down a car. But he made it work.

Friday night, he and Monica went out again, this time dinner and a movie. Kevin had a good time, and walked her back to her apartment, hand in hand. He could have called for a car; it was a bit of a walk, but the night was nice and he didn't want to deal with the gossip.

When they got near to her building, she tugged him under a tree and kissed him. It was a good kiss. A little awkward, but good. He smiled at her, and kissed her again, ignoring the little tug in his gut that said he shouldn't be kissing anyone but Camila.

"Would you like to come upstairs for coffee?" Monica asked. He had his hands on her hips, and hers were around his neck.

"That is … very tempting," Kevin said. "But I have to get home to Nina."

"Of course," Monica said, squeezing his neck. "I enjoyed tonight."

"So did I," Kevin said. "Maybe we can go dancing next time."

"I'd like that," Monica said. "It's been too long since I've been dancing, and I hear you're really good."

"I don't like to brag," Kevin said, "but I am." He kissed her again for good measure. "Good night," he said, and watched her walk up the stairs and let herself in the front door to her building.

He could have gone in. Nina was probably in bed by now, and she or one of the neighbors would have called him if there was a problem. But he just wasn't ready for that, whatever Daniela and Abuela Claudia thought.

It had been a good kiss, though.

He turned and walked home.




"So I notice you're smiling," Joe said the next morning during a quiet moment.

Kevin tried not to work Saturdays, but being the boss meant that when he had a shift to cover and nobody could do it, he had to do it. "Yeah, had a good night last night."

Joe crowed. "I hear you got a girl," he said. "She pretty?"

"Yeah," Kevin said. He answered a call. "Rosario's Car Service," he said. He took down the customer's information and assigned a cab to pick them up.

Joe got a call of his own. While he was dealing with that, Kevin heard a traffic report on the radio. There was a crash on St. Nicholas and 164th and congestion on the Washington Bridge. He updated the drivers while Joe took the next call.

The next time they were both free, Joe had more questions. "So, did you get lucky?"

Kevin shot him a glare.

"Sorry," Joe said, turning back to his board.




The next two weekends they were both busy, but the weekend after that Kevin and Monica went out for Chinese and dancing. Over dinner, Monica complained about her boss who wanted to be treated like "one of the girls."

"You work in HR, right?" Kevin said.

"Yeah," Monica said, spearing a piece of sweet-and-sour pork and chomping down on it.

"And your boss, the head of HR for your area, doesn't know how to manage people and be professional about it," Kevin said.

"Yeah," Monica said. "So far, nothing major, but it's uncomfortable."

"See, I never get that, why some bosses want to make friends with their employees," Kevin said. "What if they screw up and you have to deal with them? What if they want a raise you can't give them?"

"What if they take you at your word, and everything's fine until you decide you don't like being the butt of a joke?" Monica said. "It's not good for anybody." She made a face. "I feel like maybe I'm talking about work too much for a date?"

"Hey, don't look at me," Kevin said. "I'm my own boss, which just means I have a harder time leaving work at work because I'm the one who has to make sure everything gets done."




After dinner, they went dancing. Kevin got out of breath more quickly than he was expecting; he was out of practice. It was good that Monica's skills were fairly ordinary; if he'd been dancing with the type of woman he normally danced with, he'd have looked a little foolish. Obviously, he needed to go out dancing more often.

He and Monica got drinks and sat in a booth for a little while, talking and laughing, before heading out to the dance floor again. This time, he was a little looser, a little more into it. He found the rhythm he hadn't quite synched up with earlier, and together they flew across the dance floor.

Without thinking, he looked over to the bar, to catch Camila's eye, and stumbled. Because of course she wasn't there. She was dead.

"Hey," Monica said. "You okay?"

"Yeah, of course," Kevin said.

"Let's go sit down," she said.

"No, I'm fine," Kevin said.

Monica didn't believe him, from the look she gave him, but they kept on dancing.

Eventually, though, they had to take a break to catch their breath.

"You wanna tell me what that was?" Monica asked.

"I just tripped over my own two feet," Kevin said.

Monica used her straw to swirl the ice in her drink. "Then why did you look as if you'd seen a ghost?"

Kevin winced. "I didn't see a ghost," he said. That was, in fact, the opposite of what had happened. He sighed. "My wife, Camila and I, we used to go dancing at least once a month. But she had two left feet—couldn't dance at all. She'd sit at the bar and talk with whoever was there, and watch me dance, and then on the slow songs I'd go get her and we'd just sort of sway together. I haven't been dancing since she died, and I looked over to catch her eye like I always do, and … she wasn't there. I forgot, for a few minutes, that she was gone."

"I'm sorry," Monica said quietly.

"No, it's not you," Kevin said. "I just … most of the time I'm fine. And then something comes up, and it feels fresh, just for a bit, and then I'm fine again."

She wasn't looking at him. "I notice that you still wear your wedding ring."

He hadn't … even thought about it. Of course he was still wearing his ring. But the woman who put it on his finger was dead, had been for a year and a half, and here he was, dancing with a woman he'd been dating for over a month. He should take it off. He touched it, turning it around on his finger. But he couldn't make himself take it off.

Monica watched him do it. "Daniela and Carla swore you were ready to move on, make a new start."

"Most of the time, I am," he said.

"And the rest of the time?"

"I really enjoy spending time with you," Kevin said, taking her hand.

"I believe you," Monica said. "But are you dating me because you want to, or because Daniela bullied you into it?"

Kevin objected. "Daniela's never been able to bully me into anything."

"Yeah, but life's just easier when you do what she wants."

"Abuela Claudia, too," Kevin admitted.

Monica nodded. "So, how long do you think it will be? Before all of you is ready, and not just part of you?"

Kevin looked down at his wedding ring. "I don't know."

"All right, then how about this." Monica put her other hand on top of his. "We finish the night, and have a great time dancing. And then we go our separate ways. And, when you are ready to start a new relationship—really ready, not just sort of ready—if I'm still single, you can call me then. Sound good?"

"Sounds good," Kevin said.
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