Page 40 of Tell Me What You Want, Or Leave Me

“Uh-huh...”

My sister actually likes that. She quickly takes another swallow of her orange Fanta.

“His full name is Juan Alberto Riquelme de San Juan Bolívares.”

“See? He has a soap opera name,” whispers Raquel.

“Yes, I can see,” I say, teasing.

“He’s forty years old, and he’s Dexter’s cousin on his mother’s side. He doesn’t have kids. His ex-wife, Jazmina, who’s a viper to be avoided, never wanted kids in the six years they were married, but now that she’s divorced, she’s pregnant with her new partner.”

“There are women like that,” says my sister.

“Yes,” I say, thinking I don’t want kids either.

“Juanal owns a very successful security firm in Mexico, and he’s trying to expand his business to Europe with this trip. He’s a guy who likes being home, who’s very loving and a very good friend to his friends.”

I watch my sister process the information Graciela is providing.

“I figured out about his not having kids. You only had to take one look at him with Lucía to realize he’d never had a baby in his arms his whole life.”

“Well, Eric doesn’t have kids either and—”

“But he’s different,” affirms Raquel.

“Different how?” I ask.

“Because he has raised his nephew by himself, and I’m sure when Flyn was a baby, he was super loving with him. You just have to see how he takes care of him, how he spoils Luz and how he falls apart with Lucía. And, anyway, speaking of kids—”

“No,” I say, cutting her off. “We haven’t talked about having them yet, so we don’t have to go there.”

But as soon as I say that, I realize how both my sister and Graciela are looking at me.

“Oh, Cuchufleta,” says Raquel as she drops back down, “and to think of how pretty those kids are going to be!”

Why does everyone insist I have kids?

In the end, and since I don’t want to talk about this, I just lie back down, deciding to simply enjoy the Andalusian sun.

That night, when we all gather at my father’s house for dinner, I watch Juan Alberto and my sister more carefully. They don’t make a bad couple.

After dinner, when Raquel gets off her cell after talking to her ex, I watch as Juan Alberto calms her down. Every time my ex-brother-in-law calls, my sister goes out of her mind.

My father looks over at me, and I arch my brows and suddenly realize he’s smiling and nodding toward Juan Alberto. I can imagine what he’s thinking.

Papá, I know you all too well!

The days pass, and we need to go back to Germany. Vacation is over. Eric has to get back to work, Flyn’s school is starting, and our lives need to get back on track.

After one last meal at Pachuca’s restaurant, in which Flyn and I almost drown in her tomato soup, we decide to go out for drinks on our final night.

My father excuses himself. He prefers to stay home and take care of the kids.

At eight in the evening, when Juan Alberto gets back from a trip to Málaga, we go by my father’s house to pick up Raquel.

When we get to Sergio and Elena’s bar, always the most popular in Jerez, my friends are there to greet me. They congratulate me on the wedding, and Eric buys drinks for everyone. My friend Rocío is delighted. She sees I’m happy, and that’s good enough for her. The music is playing, and when she hears a particular song, she takes me by the hand and pulls me toward the dance floor as we both sing.

We laugh. We have so many memories from crazy summers singing that Jimmy Somerville song at the top of our lungs.

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