Page 21 of Tell Me What You Want

“What part of ‘I’m pissed’ don’t you understand?”

He lets me go and takes a long swallow from his glass.

“Oh, you Spanish girls and your tempers.”

I’m going to slap him.

“Fine, sweetness, I’ll go. But I’ll be back tomorrow at one. I’ll take you to lunch, and in exchange, you can show me around Madrid. What do you think?”

“Oh, I don’t think so. Let some other Spanish girl show you around Madrid. I have more important things to do than to play tourist with you,” I say with a dismissive wave.

Then he does it again. He licks my upper lip.

“I’ll come by to pick you up at one. Let’s stop fighting.”

I want to tell him to go fuck himself all the way to hell, but I can’t. His hypnotic eyes won’t let me.

“Have a good night, Jude,” he says as he pulls me with him toward the door. “And if you miss me, now you have something to play with.”

In a moment, he’s gone; and like an imbecile, I’m left staring at the door.

8

I’m sleeping like a log when I hear the sound of a door opening in my apartment. I bolt out of bed. What time is it? I peek at the clock on the nightstand. Seven past eleven. I throw myself back in bed. A small bomblike package drops on me.

“Hi, Auntieeeeeeeeee!”

It’s Luz, my niece.

I curse in silence but grab the girl and kiss her sweetly.

I adore her. Twenty minutes later and just out of the shower, I walk over to the kitchen in my robe. My sister is making breakfast while my dear Luz crushes Curro in her arms and watches cartoons.

I take a seat at the counter. “May I ask what you’re doing at my apartment at eleven o’clock on a Saturday morning?” I ask.

She looks my way and places a cup of coffee in front of me.

“He’s cheating on me,” she says in a low voice. “I’ve just discovered my jerk of a husband is cheating on me. I spend my life going to the gym, taking care of myself so that I’m always beautiful, and that asshole is cheating on me! I swear to you, I’m going to get the best lawyer and squeeze the last dime out of him. I swear ...”

I need a sec. I raise a hand.

“How do you know he’s cheating on you?”

“I just know, end of story.”

“That’s not an answer,” I say as Luz comes into the kitchen.

“Mami, I’m going to the bathroom.”

“Don’t forget to wipe, OK?”

Luz vanishes from sight.

“Yesterday, Pili’s mom—Pili is a friend of Luz’s—told me she realized her husband was cheating on her when he began to buy his own clothes. And in fact, two days ago, Jesús bought himself a shirt and some briefs!”

I don’t know what to tell her. They do say that’s one of the signs of a cheating partner, but that doesn’t mean it’s true across the board. And less so in my brother-in-law’s case. I really can’t imagine it.

“Listen, Raquel, that doesn’t mean anything ...”

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