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Schneider doesn’t get his headshot into the Alvarez Museum along with Alex’s movie, but that doesn’t mean he stops trying.
Though she isn’t entirely sure how he manages it, every few weeks Penelope freezes mid-step in her apartment and picks up the framed photo from a new location. The kitchen counter behind the coffee maker, the side table next to the hallway…once she found it on the bathroom wall, Schneider’s framed face grinning at her on the way to the shower.
She had to turn around and walk back out that time–she couldn’t shower with his face in her head.
Every day that she finds it, Penelope leaves it on his doorstep without knocking, hoping he’ll take the hint.
It shouldn’t be so difficult, she thinks with an internal scream when it reappears at her Mami’s bedside. She shouldn’t have to sit a grown-ass Canadian man down and explain to him that he is in fact not an Alvarez.
Not only would it be annoying to have to do that, but deep down Penelope actually cares about the way she knows Schneider’s face will crumple if she tells him off.
But ay Dios mio, the way he never stops pushing makes her want to push back.
She doesn’t, of course.
And like all of Schneider’s fixations, this one eventually passes–or, at least, Penelope doesn’t have to deal with it anymore. After four months and thirteen rounds of Headshot Hide And Seek, he stops trying.
She no longer has to wonder where it’s going to show up next, worrying that he’ll pick some bizarre, invasive spot like her sock drawer and give her a heart attack. When they pass the sixth week of nothing, she understands that Schneider has moved on.
If a tiny part of her misses that stupid framed photo now that it’s gone–if it, like Schneider, had sort of become a part of her household without Penelope’s consent–she’ll never admit it.
****
Time passes, and Schneider stops mentioning the Alvarez Museum after that. He still claims her family as his, inserting himself into Elena’s quinces and Alex’s games and Penelope’s life…but on that one very specific subject, he is unusually silent.
It starts to bug her.
Schneider has a talent for that, for annoying her sometimes because he’s not being annoying, because whenever she thinks she’s filed him away in her head he refuses to stay put.
And after the quinces, after he learns Spanish without telling her–all those dinners and late night conversations and he never told her–after he talks her through her lapse in meds and is with her Mami in the hospital, somewhere during all of that he really did become part of the family.
Penelope didn’t invite it, she can’t even pinpoint the moment when she realized it was true…but it happened.
Now what?
****
Schneider insists on buying Elena’s plane ticket when she comes home for her first winter break as a college freshman.
“Come on, Pen, it’s just a couple of mouse clicks and she can travel in style. Well, in coach,” he corrects himself, “‘cause this is Elena we’re talking about. If I put her in first class she might not get on the plane. But still. Let me do this…please.”
Penelope knows it’s not about the money, it never is with Schneider, so she doesn’t argue. And watching him light up when Elena hugs him at the airport, she’s glad she didn’t.
In her whole life, she’s never met a person who needs family more than Schneider.
Whether that’s the reason, or if it’s because he really is her best friend who she loves, Penelope can’t be certain. But Elena is passing Schneider the Christmas present she brought home for him–Penelope stopped asking two years ago if he’d rather be with one of his stepmoms for the holiday–and the idea hits her.
It’s perfect.
She just hopes it works.
****
“Oh, come on,” Penelope says, elbowing him in the chair next to her. “You didn’t really think we would forget, did you?”
Schneider shakes his head, staring at the cake Lydia baked and pretending he’s not tearing up.
He’s not pretending very well.
“I dunno, I wasn’t expecting you to remember. It’s not like I mentioned it?”
“Yes, but you should have,” Lydia scolds him, bringing the sparkling cider to the table and patting his shoulder as she sits.
“It’s a big deal, Schneider. Ten years sober?” Penelope grins at him, and he colors a little. “That’s freaking amazing.”
“So, with your recovery,” Alex asks as he waits impatiently for cake, “do we say, like, congratulations? Or, good job?”
“Either works.” He’s still blushing.
“You got your ten-year chip?” Penelope oversees the cutting of the cake and hands him a slice.
Schneider nods. “Thank you,” he tells Lydia before he bites in. “It smells great.”
After Elena has Skyped them from her dorm and half the cake is gone, Alex returns to his room, to whatever it is he spends so much time doing in there lately–Penelope isn’t sure she wants to know–and Lydia puts on music, disappearing behind her curtain.
Schneider would normally find an excuse to hang around, but he nearly makes it out the door unnoticed before Penelope corners him next to the couch.
“Hey, I need a favor.”
“Sure. What is it?”
“Can I borrow your five-year chip? I’ll keep it safe until I return it to you.”
Bewildered, Schneider scratches the back of his neck while she waits. She’s counting on his willingness to help–otherwise this won’t work.
“Schneider, I can’t tell you why but I promise you’ll get it back in one piece. I need you to trust me.”
Slowly, he nods. “All right.”
Penelope expects him to retrieve it from his apartment, bring it with him the next time he stops by–but with his eyes still locked on hers, Schneider reaches into his back pocket instead.
“It helps,” he tries to explain as he passes her the coin. “Keeping it with me. And the ten-year coin, it’s new. This one has been with me…well, since right after you moved back in. You know?”
She smiles. “Yeah, I get it.”
Now Penelope feels a little bad, even having asked. But it’s too late to take it back, and besides, she wants to do this.
She needs to do this.
****
After much consideration, it’s decided that they’ll show him after dinner. And since inviting Schneider over would be so unusual that it would definitely ruin the surprise, they just have to wait.
It takes two days for him to show up, letting himself in after a cursory knock. He does that now; it no longer bothers her. Lydia is cooking and Penelope’s studying, and she shoots him a grin when he joins her at the table.
If it had taken him a third day, she would’ve dragged him downstairs herself.
Dinner feels like it lasts forever, with Alex sharing stories from his day and Schneider oblivious to the looks passing between the two women.
“So I’m going to take Angelina,” Alex finishes explaining, as Schneider nods along. “Maddie will go with Joaquin, and that means that Finn can take Jade, which is what he wanted in the first place.”
“And you’ll dance, and laugh, and have a great time,” Penelope replies, cutting him off with a nod to her Mami.
Lydia goes into the kitchen, standing next to Schneider’s chair when she returns instead of taking her seat.
“Schneider, we have something for you.”
“What?” He looks from Penelope, her smile warm and eyes excited, to Lydia, who has one arm bent conspicuously behind her back.
“Guys, it’s not my birthday.”
“No, but it was. Kind of,” Penelope amends. “I know some people call it that.”
“Here you go, Schneider.” Lydia hands him a small black box.
“How many times do I have to tell you, Lydia,” he jokes. “I’m sorry, I cannot marry you.”
Giving and showing love comes easily to Schneider, it always has, but being on the receiving end of it is a different matter entirely. He’s still not used to it.
“Take the box,” Penelope tells him gently.
“We’re very proud of ju,” Lydia adds as he holds it in his hands and just…stares.
On a long, slow exhale, Schneider lifts the lid. He can feel the three of them watching him as he blinks down at it.
“Pen…what did you do?”
He’s holding his five-year chip, with “One Day At A Time” stamped into the copper and the slightly worn edges he used to run his fingers along. Only now, it’s encased in a Plexiglass box.
“It comes out,” Penelope rushes to explain. “You don’t have to leave it like that, if you don’t want to.”
“But what…is it?”
Lydia kisses him on the cheek and sits down while his eyes stay on Penelope.
“Do you remember when you made it to five years, right after the kids and I moved in? Mami baked you that cake and we had dinner, and we celebrated.”
“Of course I remember.” His eyes are shining behind his glasses. “It was the first time you actually invited me over.”
“Huh. I guess it was,” she agrees. “I forgot about that.”
“I couldn’t,” he replies softly.
“Well, we didn’t know each other then, not really, but it was such an accomplishment. We were all happy for you.”
“Yeah.” She put it in plastic, Schneider thinks, pressing his fingertips against the edges of the box. He’s still waiting for understanding to arrive.
“It’s a big deal, you know? What you’ve made of your life, the way you use your money and your time to help people.”
“Taking me to games,” Alex chimes in. “Teaching Elena building repairs.”
“You guys.” Not going to cry, he tells himself firmly. Not gonna do it.
“Being my date to the opera,” Lydia points out with a small smile, overriding his objection.
“Always answering your door.”
Penelope isn’t smiling anymore, and it’s her serious, sincere expression that’s almost painful to look at because there’s just so much love in it. He can see it, and he still doesn’t know why they’ve ambushed him this way but it feels so much like safe and belonging and family that he loses the battle.
He tells himself to be proud that he only cries a little, staring at the table as Pen clears her throat and reaches for his hand.
“We know you now, Schneider. Like we didn’t five years ago. And now, you’re family.”
Schneider’s eyes whip to her, wide with hope and disbelief. Penelope feels bad that he still has any reason to doubt it, at this point. But when he faces her Mami next, as though he’s waiting for a second opinion, she’s even more certain that this was a good idea.
“So you can take your five year marker back, and keep it with you, like you have for the last five years. We’ll understand if that’s what you need to do.”
“Or…” Penelope stands and holds out her hand.
Brow furrowed, Schneider tries to hand her the box, certain that now she’ll show him what the point of it is.
Pen laughs, and pushes the box away, and grabs his other hand instead. “Come here, would you?”
Lydia and Alex follow close behind as Penelope leads him away from the table and into the hall, and then tugs him back when he tries to keep walking–past the Alvarez Museum.
“If you’re willing to part with it,” she tells him, pointing at the wall, “we cleared a spot.”
“But…” Alex rolls his eyes when Schneider looks his way, and Lydia chuckles. “But I’m not an Alvarez.”
“Aren’t you? In the ways that matter?” Penelope squeezes the hand she’s still holding. “I kinda thought you already knew that.”
Schneider squeezes her hand back and looks at the wall of fame for the family.
His family.
Lydia insists on being the one to do the honors, posing next to Schneider’s box with a flourish while Alex takes pictures.
“We’ll email these to Elena,” Penelope tells Schneider as he smiles so fiercely that his face really could freeze that way. “She’ll love it.”
Schneider is ten years sober, and his recovery has been more difficult than he could ever explain with words, even to the people he loves most.
There were days when he believed with all his heart that he would be dead by now, not watching his best friend tease her mom while her son snaps them all with a flower crown filter.
And it’s gratifying, what Schneider does with his time–and his money. It’s not selfless, because helping everybody around him makes him happy.
“Want more cake?” Penelope asks, looping her arm through his with the sunniest of smiles.
He nods, unable to speak around the lump in his throat while she leads the way back to the table.
Because his sobriety is the battle he’s most proud of fighting, and his volunteer work is how he’s made the most out of his reconstructed life. But this apartment, these people, along with Elena in spirit…they’re his home.
“Ay, Papito!” Lydia is laughing in the living room while Alex spins her into a tango.
Penelope teasingly pushes cake toward Schneider's face and ends up with Mexican chocolate sauce in her hair when he dodges it.
“Schneider! Oh, you are going to regret that.”
He’s out of the chair and heading straight for Lydia, betting that she’s his best hope of protection from getting cake on his designer jeans.
“I didn’t mean it! It was an accident!”
Lydia’s even more protective of her wardrobe than he is.
It’s really good cake.
And finding his home is the best thing he’s ever done.