Page 33 of Tell Me What You Want

“Oh ... the other day, Lucena, Bicharrón, and I went to sign up for the Puerto Real Motocross. You’re going to love it.”

My father and his two lifelong friends love to participate in this event every year, and I won’t deny them that joy. It’s something we’ve been going to since I was a little girl. They spend all year talking about it, and as soon as I arrive in Jerez every summer, they get so excited.

“Perfect, Papá. We’ll be there.”

“And by the way, I spoke with your sister yesterday.”

“And?”

“I don’t know, love. She seemed quite down. Do you know what’s going on?”

“I don’t know anything, Papá,” I feint. “You know how hysterical she gets about everything.” Then I try to change the topic. “Where are you going to watch the game today?”

“At home. And you?”

“At a bar with Azu and some friends.”

I’m excited just thinking about it.

“And no special friend, love?”

“No, Papá. Not a one.”

“Well, good. I’m glad to hear that. Because if you get another boyfriend like that guy with the ring in his nose and his brow, I’m going to throw up.”

“Papá ...,” I say, laughing heartily.

“By the way, Bicharrón told me a few days ago that Fernando will soon be in Jerez. Oh, I think he’s in Madrid today, and he’ll probably try to pay you a visit.”

Here we go with Fernando again! My dad and Bicharrón have spent their entire lives trying to get Fernando and me together. After talking about Fernando for a while, his marvelous job as a cop in Valencia, and what an excellent guy he is, I change the subject again and come back to soccer. My father always gets revved up when we talk about soccer, and I like that.

Five minutes later, I say goodbye and hang up. I look for Curro, who’s lying on the floor, and bring him up to the couch. He’s having a hard time breathing, and that hurts my heart. My cell buzzes. It’s Fernando!

“I’m in Madrid. Shall I come by and we can take in the game together later?”

I respond, “Of course!”

At about two thirty in the afternoon, I heat up a little something. After I eat, I decide to lie on my couch, and I’m in dreamland in minutes. My cell buzzes me awake. It’s my sister.

“Hey, what are you up to, hon?”

“Sleeping, until you woke me.”

“Were you out partying last night?”

“I guess you could say that.”

“With whom?”

“With no one you know.”

“Is it serious?” she asks, curious.

When I hear that, I grin.

“No, it’s nothing important,” I say, shaking my head.

She keeps me on the phone for half an hour. Like always, her conversation focuses on her disastrous marital life. When I finally hang up, I see that Curro is still on the couch. He hasn’t moved. When I come close, he looks up at me. I kiss his head and almost burst into tears. I contain myself, murmur a few sweet nothings, and go get myself a Coke. I need one.

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