Page 89 of Guava Flavored Lies

CHAPTER36

Leaningagainst the sink in her mother’s extravagant Roman-inspired master bathroom, Sylvie watched the meltdown.

“Look at this, Sylvia.” Her mother pulled a first aid kit from the cabinet. “You could have killed yourself climbing up there. What were you thinking?”

Despite the question, her mother didn’t give her a chance to respond.

“I’m going to have to call the Steins later. I bet that gossip, Julieta, has probably already sent them photographic evidence of that production today. Pull down your leggings. Actually, no. Just take them off, I’ll get you something that isn’t torn to shreds.”

Sylvie didn’t bother protesting or pointing out that a single tear did not amount to shreds. Her mother would insist about the stupid clothes, and she had more pressing matters to address.

She peeled off her leggings, wincing when she bent forward and disturbed the bruise forming on her hip. “I’m sure the Steins—”

Sylvie didn’t get to finish placating her before she returned from her walk-in closet with a pair of colorful leggings. “Can you believe the nerve of those Machados? Creating such a spectacle. It’s just like Carla to make matters worse at every opportunity.”

In her underwear, Sylvie leaned back on the counter, her sore body growing achier by the minute. Adrenaline had acted as an amazing pain reliever, but it lacked staying power.

“Mom, who cares about — gah!”

The antiseptic her mother dabbed on with a cotton ball burned more than Sylvie expected.

“I’m sorry, mi vida.” Her mother blew on the scrape on her hip like Sylvie was a ten-year-old with a skinned knee.

“That’s okay. Sorry.” She waited for her mother to apply an ointment before finishing her thought. “Can we maybe learn from this and stop pointing the finger at the Machados? We’re all equally responsible. For everything. And as far as today goes, it was my stupid idea to go in the treehouse. Not Lauren’s.”

Her mother sat on the ledge of her spa tub as if Sylvie’s words caused her knees to buckle. “I don’t believe that,” she said flatly, like her acceptance had any bearing on the truth. “It’s not like you to break the rules. You’d never go onto someone’s property uninvited like that. That girl convinced you to do it. Pressured you to—”

“Mami, por Dios! Do you hear yourself?” Sylvie chased after her sense of calm like it was a greyhound on the loose. She took a deep breath. It was going to be up to her to set a new tone. “I can assure you that I was there, and I know for an undeniable fact, that it was my idea.”

Her mother shook her head. “If that’s true, and you’re not covering for—”

“Why would I be covering for anybody, mom? I’m in my thirties. It’s not like Sister Gloria is going to give me a demerit.” Another breath to keep the throbbing in her head from getting worse. “Can’t we talk about what’s in front of us? Focusing on the Machados is not going to change the truth.”

Fidgeting with the blonde ponytail falling over her chest, her mother looked away. “I don’t know that I believe that either.”

Sylvie pressed on her own closed eyes to keep the outrage from making her say things she’d regret. After a moment, she looked at her mother again. With her fingernails digging into her palms, she tried to reason with her.

“Mom, what do you mean you don’t believe it. Tia told all of us that it was true. That grandpa covered up what he discovered about our shady beginnings. She and Lauren’s grandma corroborated it.”

With her crossed leg swinging over the other, she shook her head. “I love my sister, but she’s prone to theatrics. She probably just said that so she could be part of the moment. And as for Carla’s mother, I don’t know the woman, but if she’s anything like her daughter, there’s no limit to what she’s capable of doing.”

Sylvie’s eyes widened in complete disbelief. “Are you serious right now? You think it’s more likely that everyone is lying and somehow conspiring together instead of—”

“My father was a great man! He would never do this!”

Sylvie pulled on the leggings and sat next to her mother. As she wiped her eyes, Sylvie put an arm around her. She rarely had to comfort her mother and watching her unravel was a punch to the chest.

“I know how you feel right now. Shocked. Confused. Deceived. Lost. That’s how I felt when I found this out,” Sylvie said softly. “It was impossible for me to believe that Abuelo would have fed me all these stories about how the Machados tried to ruin us knowing they weren’t true. I’m sure that he didn’t feel so great when he found out that his own father had not only lied to him, but lacked integrity too.”

“When did you get so level-headed?” She asked after a beat, her lips turned up in a small, weak smile.

Quietly, her father slipped into the bathroom, leaning against the door frame.

Sylvie gave her mother a squeeze. “I’ve been practicing not acting or reacting based on assumptions. I’ve also been trying to be more open-minded. Less judgmental. Spending time with Lauren has taught me that change can be good.”

Her mother tsked. “I don’t like that girl, she’s always been nothing but trouble.”

“You’re going to have to stop calling her that girl. She’s my girlfriend and I really like her. Like . . . I really, really like her.” She looked up at her father to make sure they were both listening. “And you guys can’t blame her for things we both did. We’ve been equally awful all these years.”

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