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Belén.
The eldest by ten seconds and my bride who still hasn’t turned up. Tardiness. Something I hate like mustard on fries, or even worse, like Papá.
Belén knows I hate people being late. The bride being fashionably late is something I told her wouldn’t happen at our wedding, and she agreed.
“Find out what she’s doing!” I snarl through my teeth.
“Don’t be like that, Diego.Tranquila4. She’s coming,” Inma, my tía, says while offering me a smile and rushing to rescue Lucas.
Lucas signals that he’s going to leave, by titling his head to the other side of the aisle. Bien! Hopefully, he’ll bring my bride to the altar ASAP.
“Diego, you think she stood you up?” Tío Juan5 asks as he comes by my side. If by any chance Belén has jilted me at the altar, they don’t want to see me angry.
Belén’s always on time. Unlike her sister, Leticia. The other day she came to work on time, but with her skirt in her panties. She said she was double tasking instead of multitasking. Answering my call and peeing at the same time, as if I needed the image of her peeing and her ass. It’s amazing she has one so firm and round with all the crap she eats. My length beings to grow as I remember that day; the only thing on my mind was spinning her around and taking her from behind on my table.
“Diego,” Abuela sighs as she starts to stroke my chest. “You’re getting angry. I don’t want you totienes un infarto6like your abuelo.”
“I’m still alive and in perfect health. You shouldn’t be worried about me having a heart attack, but rather what I will do to everyone on that side of the library.”
She spins her head, even though she must know that I’m referring to her best friend’s family. Belén’s abuela smiles and gives a reassuring nod, but I can tell by the way she’s tapping her fingers on the chair, she’s getting impatient with waiting too.
“You will do nothing of the sort,” she warns me. I’ve lived with her nearly all my life, and if there’s one person that always manages to put me in order, it’s her.
And Lucas knows it.
I’ll go call Abuela to sort this mess out.
He knows that alone is enough for me to stop winding him up and to be on my best behavior.
Tío Juan gets up again. “If she’s not coming, then maybe we can just go the reception and get something to eat.”
Abuela shakes her head and points to his bench, telling him to sit back down again. He does so just as quickly as he stood up. Only I can question whether she’ll show up. They shouldn’t even think about it.
The priest smiles while pacing and looking at his watch. He better not tell me about another wedding and that we need to speed things up, because I’ll burn this library to the ground. Abuela repeatedly tells me that if I don’t lighten up, God will never forgive me. I’m already on his naughty list. The things I’ve done in my life are enough to keep me permanently on it. Besides, she’s talking to me like a child, annoying me even more.
Then again, if Belén does stand me up, then I may just burn the library to the ground anyway. Just for the sake of it. Takethe damn thing off the map, along with her family. I reach in my pocket, thinking about making a phone call when my collar starts to irritate me.
“This fucking suit!” I bark.
This suit feels as if it’s suffocating me. From the jacket to the waistcoat to the shirt underneath it. The knot in the tie is so high that I feel as if I’m unable to breathe.
Abuela gasps as I try to undo my collar, then covers her ears as if she’s never heard me curse before, and Tío Juan is slowly making his way out, no doubt to get something to eat.
My phone rings. I pick it up.
“¿Qué?7” I snarl at Lucas.
“They’re on their way. Ten minutes, tops. Just that there’s some traffic.”
So, all he did was call them. I can hear the same passing traffic as Tío Juan opens the door. Sure, I could have done it myself, but I was thinking my brother would actually drag her here when he said he was going to sort it out. She could come in her fucking underwear. I wouldn’t care as long as she’s here. No doubt this is Leticia’s doing. She probably told her sister to change her mind.
I overheard Leticia complaining about me only last week.
“If I don’t get to my desk in five seconds, he’ll probably fire me. Him and his damn stopwatch. I’d like to take it and see if I can shove it where the sun will shine.” She giggled as she left the kitchen.
I was so tempted to get in there and correct her English, but then something told me not to. She’s been here for four months after Abuela begged to help her get into Rhode Island Art Academy. Then she needed a job, and for some reason, I’m always the only one in the family that can help her.
She’s the sunshine of the family. More a fairy of the family is how I would describe her. After high school, she took a gapyear to travel the world and sell her art. She didn’t get very far, only as far as Valencia, a few hundred miles from Madrid. Then, she enrolled in university there and lasted the first semester. I wasn’t keen on taking her on because we were supposed to be married.
