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“Well, the doctor called. He says that I have some cyst or something.”
She’s using her finger to twirl my hair, and I suspect this has something to do with me. The question is what.
“And he says that I can’t have children.”
“¡Gracias a Dios!No more Diegos on this Earth!” I jump up with excitement as I hug her, but she breaks away from me, and then I feel guilty for being so insensitive.
“Sorry, Belén. It was wrong for me to act like this.”
“No. You don’t understand.”
She’s shaking her head and doing that thing again. Crying.
“I can’t have children, meaning I can’t marry him.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. Ever since you graduated from college, you’ve been planning this wedding. Just explain. Tell him. He’ll understand.”
“No, he won’t!” she barks. I knew he wanted kids, but she’s never expressed any interest in them.
“You hate kids!”
She scoffs. “No. I don’t. I’m just not like you.”
Exactly! She hates them. When our cousin, Lara, had her baby only six months ago, Belén said she didn’t want to hold the baby, because she may get her dress dirty. Who thinks like that? Only people who don’t like children.
“We were all children once. I can’t say I don’t like kids.”
I shrug, because this isn’t the time nor place to discuss such matters. Besides, I don’t really care if she likes kids or not. She’s my sister, and as cold-hearted as she is, I still love her.
Mamá’s wedding dress hangs by the door. Belén had it adjusted to suit her style. The bodice is made up of ivory lace with patterns across the torso. I remember thinking what an honor it was for Belén to have Mamá’s wedding dress. Unlike Belén, I have a little more meat on my body—a lot more, according toMamá7. Belén adjusted it to have a V-shape dip. The back is a row of delicate buttons tracing the spine. The trail is so long and is a mix of ivory and lace.
Unlike me Belén hates hugs, but now she embraces me and while doing so, she’s stroking my hair.
“Do I have something in my hair?” I ask as I back away.
“No. It’s just that this thing can be solved.”
“You want to cancel the wedding?”
Not an option, but one can dream. She has to marry him. My heart feels as if it’s about to leave my chest if she doesn’t. Our abuelas made a pact long ago that our families would be united, and for that reason, the Aranda de Hernandez have always been our financial support. When the family’s bar was nearly in ruins, they paid to support it. When our family home was going to be taken by the bank because mi abuelo couldn’t pay the mortgage, they paid it. All this was done because of this arrangement. What’s going to happen if it’s broken? I don’t even want to think about it.
“Then what is it?”
She ties her dark shoulder-length hair in a ponytail and then takes a deep breath.
“I want you to marry Diego.”
I start laughing, because I think she’s joking. There’s no way that I can marry him. He’ll see right through us, we’re alike on the outside to a certain degree, but on the inside we’re completely different.
“I’m only working for him to get into art school. You know that. If I didn’t, I would be gone in a flash. But I don’t want to work for our parents and …”
“You don’t want to stay in Spain. I know. You wanted to improve your English and have options, so you came here. Diego said you could work for him since he lost his last assistant.”
“He fired her. Because she was ten seconds late to a meeting. I’m the longest lasting assistant he’s had, and that’s because I hardly sleep, bathe, or eat.”
She smiles at me as if the last four months of my life have been a breeze. I have no life, and I’m regretting my initialdecision. I thought a degree and high scores from high school would be enough to get into the art school, but I know Diego worked his magic to get me in. He rubbed my nose in it, to tell me that he did. We’re in June, and technically, I’m supposed to be starting in September, how will this work? She must be kidding.
Then again, Belén doesn’t kid about anything, including not being able to have kids.
