Page 67 of Sombra
“Absolutely.” I rap on his door. When Sergio opens it,I shake his hand and say, “Hombre.”
“Welcome.” He bends over to give Kim two kisses on her cheeks. While it’s our custom, I have to prevent myself from snarling at him in an overprotective fit. He waves us in. “Venga. Come in, come in.”
We step foot into his naturally soundproofed house, which is painted all white inside. There’s electricity, and our eyes and body adjust to the coolnessof the cave. “It’s so comfortable in here,” she whispers, taking in the couch, television, dining room set, kitchen, and bed at the back. “I can’t believe this is a cave. It just looks like a regular house with no windows along the sides. Or maybe a Hobbit hole.”
“This is the Sacromonte,” Sergio says. “People have been living here for thousands of years. Passages crisscross in the mountainthat have been here for centuries. Some even cross under the river, underground, to the Alhambra.” He gestures in the direction of the famous fortress across the way. “Living in a cave has some real advantages. The temperature is about the same year-round, which makes it quite healthy.”
Kim looks at his pictures on the walls, the arrangement of his furniture, the plants by the front door.“I thought it would be more shadowy in a cave. That it would be darker, more mysterious.”
“Sometimes you just have try something new and realize there’s nothing to be afraid of,” he says.
He’s right. You can build yourself up to be afraid of the dark, when really you’re more at home there than you realize.
Kim wanders around and gets the sense of the place while I talk toSergio. “What’s for lunch?” I ask, pulling out a bottle of wine I’d tucked into my jacket.
“Tortilla del Sacromonte.”
From the corner, Kim spins around, sputtering, her eyes bugging out. “Not the one with testicles and brains!”
He laughs loudly, rummaging in a drawer for a wine opener. “Tavo told me your reaction to that one. No, I’m just kidding. We’re having a regulartortillaespañola. Omelet with potatoes in a sandwich. Plus a salad.”
It’s beautiful and amusing to watch the relief wash over Kim’s face. Maybe having lunch in a cave is “something new” today.
Sergio opens the bottle of wine and pours three glasses. In a low voice, he says, “You and Kim arejuntos?”
“Yeah.” He knows the significance. In Spain, even first dates are in groups. It’snot until we’re serious that we go out on a date with just one person. We don’t pair off alone in public until it’s official.
But I don’t care. Kim’s for me. I don’t need to hide it from anyone.
Sergio raises an eyebrow and a glass to me in respect. He hands Kim a glass of wine. “So I have news.”
“What about?” I take a sip.
“My little brother? The one we’ve all knownwas gay?”
I nod.
“He finally admitted it.”
“He came out?”
Sergio takes a drink. “He did. And the whole family now heaves a sigh of relief because Grandma can stop bothering him about finding a girl.”
“Must be a weight off his back to tell people the truth.” I think about all the secrets I’m keeping right now. And I wonder about my brother Antonio. He’s so overtlyflirty, but …
Kim comes back from her inspection of the cave and joins us. “I agree,” she says, catching the end of our conversation. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to keep something like that to yourself and not be able to tell anyone. I hope he has some friends to help him.”
“He does. And we’re glad, really.”
“Spain is one of the most progressive countries in the worldas far as LGBT rights.”
“Yet another reason why I feel so comfortable here,” Kim says. “It’s so welcoming to all.”
After lunch we sit in Sergio’s patio outside, watching the city of Granada below us transition to late afternoon. Kim and I drink wine. Sergio lights up a cigarette and drinks an Aguilar beer.
“¿Quieres uno?” He offers Kim a cigarette, knowing I don’t smoke.
She hesitates, but takes one. “I’ve never smoked before, but I want to try it. I mean, I know it’s bad, but when in Spain … I want to remove the things tying me down.”
