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She didn’t mean my parents, no doubt Papá. He knows the price of everything, and doesn’t overspend if it’s his money, but someone else’s, I can imagine him going to the city—or is it the country?
As much as I hate Diego correcting me, I would quite happily have him help me with this saying right now.
I motion for us to get inside, because we’re standing outside and talking as if we haven’t seen each other for years. It’s not quite years, but it has been a few weeks since the wedding and so much has happened since then.
“Ladies, welcome. How many are dining?” the server asks as we stand by the door. Luckily, it is a little late after three, somost of the lunch crowd must have left and it is quieter. They have tables on the street. They must be like they are in Italy with red-and-white checkered tablecloth on wooden tables and chairs. I just don’t like eating outside, when there’s a path for onlookers to see what we’re eating. I do like the privacy of indoors.
“Three,” I say eagerly, because I still can’t take my ring off.
¡Joder!3
“Why do you keep fidgeting like that? Don’t tell me that he may call you into the office?” Cristina asks me as she raises an eyebrow and looks at me suspiciously.
I shake my head, because I’m not a good actress and Cristina knows me well. She’ll start grilling me, and I’m not ready to tell them yet.
“No,” I whisper, acting as if I’m up to something.
“¿Qué?” Cristina asks as the server sits us at our bench. It’s a cozy corner, not too far from the entrance but in the middle. It’s quiet, there are only a few couples here.
“So, I tried calling you a few times, when we were on the cruise. How comes I could only reach you properly yesterday?” Blanca asks.
“I lost the old one and had to buy a new one when we were away.”
Too many questions, and I realize I’m not prepared to answer any of them.
“No. I lost it at the wedding. Then again while I was working …”
I remember now that I should be working and not have gone away to Tokyo. This is going to be a lot harder than I thought.
“Oh, which one did you buy?” Blanca asks.
I take it out of my purse and show them. “Damn, the new iPhone 15. What, he gave you a little something too for marrying your sister?”
“Those two were made for each other. Seriously, you’re lucky that she was born two minutes earlier!” Cristina chuckles as her eyes light up. Blanca is a few years older, but she has no intention of ever settling down. We call her wannabe Samantha like Samantha inSex and the City. Not only because she has blonde hair and blue eyes like Samantha but she has an active sex life like her.
I join in, and Cristina raises an eyebrow as if she can tell that I’m fake laughing. Luckily, I’m saved by the server who brings us complimentary antipasti as he serves the wine. He pours the wine into the glasses and brings the bread and olive oil, and an assortment of olives and nuts. Part of me feels as if I'm back home in Spain, the similarities between the two countries is amazing. Sometimes when they speak in Italian, I feel that I understand what they're saying.
As soon as we finish ordering, I just blurt it out.
“Belén never married Diego. I did.”
“¿Qué?” Blanca chokes on her wine. I pat her gently on the back as she is sat next to me, with Cristina on the other side.
“This means that when I went to the office to see you yesterday. It was Belén I was talking to,” Cristina says. “I thought you were a little different. You said … No. She said that you were tired. Whatever, you know what I mean.”
Cristina looks disappointed about the news.
“I don’t get it,” Blanca says.
Cristina doesn’t give me a chance to answer, as she scratches her head and then puts down her glass of wine.
“This means that you’re not really married to him, Leticia. You were pretending to be Belén. Just like you did back in high school when she sat your English exam for you. How come I never noticed at the wedding? I can always tell you two apart.”
“That’s because you wereborracho. Borraschisma4!” Blanca starts to chuckle, and I join in, but Cristina’s not laughing.
“Sure, I had one or two glasses of wine, but I wasn’t drunk. Was I?”
I nod, because according to Diego, she wasn’t the only one. I was drunk too. “I was too. I mean, I never knew I snored so loud when I get drunk.”
