Page 126 of Tell Me What You Want, Or Leave Me

I think of my favorite German, his grief, and my sadness.

“Good. Flyn’s at school and Eric’s on a trip, but he’ll be back soon.”

“Well, well, I know somebody who’ll have a great time at the reunion.”

I laugh so as not to cry. If she only knew! But my sister brings me joy and good vibes and never more than when she’s anxious to tell me something.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“Guess!”

“Raquel, no riddles—just tell me!”

“Do you know who’s in Spain staying at Sweetheart Villa?” But before I can answer, Raquel shouts it out: “My wild little roll in the hay!”

“No!” I exclaim, amused.

“Yes!” Raquel whispers. “He told me he couldn’t stop thinking about me and that he’s crazy about my bones.”

I blink...

“Cuchu, are you there?”

I nod.

“Yes...yes...It’s that you just left me speechless.”

“I know. That’s how I was yesterday when I opened the door and there was my Mexican paramour, so tall, so handsome, so gallant, with a nice bouquet of white roses in his hands and—”

“Wow, white roses...your favorite.”

“Yeah, but wait, wait, I still haven’t told you the best part. It turns out that when I opened the door, he tells me with all that Mexican heartthrob smoothness, ‘Sweetie, if a star were to go out every time I think of you, soon there wouldn’t be a single light in the sky.’ Ohhhh...my God. My God. The only thing missing were the mariachis, but I almost peed my pants, I was so happy.”

“Impressive!” I say, laughing like I haven’t in days.

Those two!

“It’s the most romantic thing that’s happened to me, Cuchu. That man is...he’s...different...very different, and when he’s with me, he makes me feel like a fairy princess. He looks at me intensely, he kisses me with fervor, he touches me with delight, and...”

“Whoa, stop. TMI!”

I suddenly feel like I’m watchingEmerald Madnesswith my sister and Juan Alberto as protagonists.

“And best of all,” she continues in her soft, melodious voice, “when he came over, he went straight to Papá and said, ‘Mr. Flores, I have come to formally ask you for your pretty daughter’s hand.’”

“Wow, Raquel!”

“Yes!” My sister screams, and I have to pull the phone from my ear.

I have to laugh.

“Are you telling me you’re engaged?”

“No.”

“But you just told me he asked Papá for your hand.”

“He asked Papá, but I took it upon myself to tell him no way.”

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