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“Hello,” I speak into the receiver as I answer.
“Hey. Do you have a little bit of time to chat?”
“Yeah, I’m just eating breakfast, so there’s plenty of time.”
“Okay. Alejandro let me know you came to see him. I’m pleased you took the initiative and got that over with as soon as possible. It shows me you’re very invested in our wedding going off without a hitch, so I think we should start planning it.”
Good. I’m glad Eset sees that I’m taking this seriously. “When do you want it to happen?” I question her, remembering she said the sooner, the better.
“I think two weeks is plenty of time to get everything thrown together, don’t you?”
I don’t know jack shit about wedding planning. “I think so, but you’re the boss when it comes to the wedding. You tell me.”
Eset laughs in a carefree manner, giving me another peek at her personality. “Santos, I’m the boss for the rest of your life, and it’s best if you know that now.” Well, there is the saying “happy wife, happy life”, so I suppose she isn’t wrong. I’ll let Eset feel as though she has the power right now, but when we’re married, she’ll become the thing I protect more than anything else in this world. I doubt she realizes it, but I won’t let anything bad happen to her. She’s going to be my wife, and in turn, she’s going to be my family.
“Whatever you say, mi amor. Is there a certain place you’d like to get married?”
Eset grows quiet for a moment, and I begin to wonder if it’s because I’ve referred to her as mi amor, but she’s going to be my wife. If I don’t give her some sort of pet name, then people will think something is odd about us being together. “I think it could be nice to get married in London. It’s where we first met, and I think you and I have a connection with the city.”
“I’m happy with London. Any ideas on a venue or what you imagine your dream wedding to be? I… I know this is very much political, Eset, but I do want you to have everything and anything you’ve ever imagined.”
“That’s very kind of you. I would love to get married in an art gallery or a museum. I can reach out to some and see what would be available on such short notice. Hopefully, there will be at least one that can work for us.”
“Art is your passion, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I love art, as you very well know. It’s… relaxing. It kind of makes everything else in the world disappear from my focus. I can breathe easier when I’m in a museum, or even painting, or doing pottery.”
For some reason, Eset sounds like something is troubling her mind. I’m really curious about what it is, but I don’t want to pry too much. “Eset, I apologize if I’m being brash, but you sound like something’s on your mind.”
Eset sighs heavily on the other end of the line. “My mother called me up out of the blue after she knowingly knew my father was in the wrong for everything he did to my brothers. She told me she wants to see me, and she was diagnosed with cancer… but I doubt I’ll even reach back out to her. Maybe if she treated us all well in the first place, we might show up for her when she needs us the most, but how can I do that after everything she’s done to us?”
“It’s wrong of her to reach back out to you after what she did, but she sees her own morality now, which is showing her the importance of family.” I’m not trying to stick up for her mother, but I think when people are facing extreme challenges in their lives, they view the world a bit differently. Now, I don’t know Eset’s mother. I’ve only heard stories about the woman, and I do believe everything Eset is telling me is the truth. It’s obvious her mother’s diagnosis is plaguing her, and she’s having a hard time trying to figure out what to do about it.
“I can completely see that being a possibility, but is it my problem? No. I haven’t even told my brothers about her diagnosis. They’ll all probably want to show up for her, even though she didn’t show up for us. My brothers are kinder than I am at times, and I think our mother, possibly facing her own death, will cause them to forgive her for a lot of things. I don’t think I’m the type of person who can forgive her for the things she’s done.”
“When she called you, did it seem like she was looking for forgiveness?”
Eset’s quiet for a few moments, but she eventually speaks up. “No, I don’t think so. It was more like she was calling because she was worried about herself, about facing this journey by herself. Almost as if she was looking for pity.”
“If that’s the case, she went to the wrong place for it. You’re not the type of woman who would freely give pity, and I don’t mean that as an insult.”
“I’m not taking it as an insult. I’m so conflicted when it comes to this. It’s… it’s fucking frustrating.”
As someone who has a tumultuous relationship with their own parent, I understand how conflicted Eset feels right now. Though, as odd as it seems, I’m very glad that she feels comfortable enough to talk to me about it. If this were a couple of weeks ago, I doubt she’d feel so comfortable doing a thing.
“I understand, and if you ever need to vent about it, please know you can call me any time. I mean that.” I do hope that, eventually, our relationship can turn into something real, but for now, I’ll settle on being friends. Sure, our marriage is political, but there’s nothing that says it needs to stay that way.
“Thank you, Santos.”
“No need to thank me.” I take a bite of my avocado toast. “I am curious about something, though.”
“What would that be?”
“What is your dream job? I want to know more about your aspirations.” I’m going to be spending the rest of my life with Eset, so it’s important I begin to learn more about her. Sure, I’ve done my research, but I need her to connect with me as well.
“I’d love to open an art gallery someday, but who knows if it’ll ever happen.”
“If it’s something you want to happen, then why wouldn’t we at least try? I’m going to support you in whatever ventures you follow, Eset, so if it’s something you want, then we need to make it happen,” I comment, and there’s another moment of silence.
