Chapter 47
The house was packed with people. Once again, relatives drove in from all over the island to join the Ruíz-Sanchez festivities. Only instead of celebrating my arrival, they were celebrating that of my parents.
After three days of worry-induced stomachaches, I told Vince the truth. He didn’t take it nearly as hard as I did. Hearing it from me took away some of the shock factor. Apparently, I was a better messenger than Ricardo, the drunken barfly. Plus,Vince said he had always noticed the way that our uncles treated our grandfather, and that he had assumed our father didn’t grow up in a very happy home—happy children visit their parents more than three times a year, especially when they live less than an hour away. We agreed that our Uncles Diego and Roberto knew the truth, but neither of us were certain about the real question: did our father?
I looked at my watch.We’d find out soon. My “tia” would be here any minute.
While I realized Teresa was born into our family—just like I was—and that she had done nothing wrong, I still had a hard time calling her my aunt. It was too weird. I preferred “tia,” it was at least foreign and removed—just like her.
“So, what are you going to say to this chick?” Lilly asked, as she brushed her hair.
I rolled my head toward her and shrugged. I had been getting ready for more than thirty minutes and I hadn’t gotten farther than putting the clothes on my back. My head was on overload and my body in slow-mo.
“What? Was I not supposed to ask? I mean, it’s the obvious question,” she noted, as she pulled her red hair into a high ponytail.
“I have no idea what I’m gonna say,” I muttered, as I slipped my feet into a pair of flip-flops. “Technically, I’ve already spoken to her. The ice is broken. I insulted her child. But now, she knows that I know. And my father’s going to be here and he has no idea . . .”
“So you’re just gonna ambush your dad? Is that the plan?”
The girl was blunt.
I sighed and tossed my head back.
“I don’t know yet. I couldn’t tell him over the phone. How do you have that conversation? ‘Hi, Dad, it’s Mariana. I met your long-lost bastard sister. Want to check her out while you’re here?’ I just didn’t see that playing out well.”
I rubbed my temples. My head had been pounding for days now. I was exhausted.
“Well, maybe you should just let him meet her. Maybe he’ll figure it out for himself, like twins separated at birth. . . .”
“Yeah, I doubt it.”
“You never know.” Lilly sat on her bed and fastened the straps of her strappy heels. “Anyway, when’s Alex getting here?”
“Any minute.”
Alex had been glued to my hip for the past three days, trying to make up for lost time. He was already starting to talk about not wanting me to leave, even though I still had another week left (of course, I’d be with my parents, but still). I liked that he was going to miss me, because I knew I’d miss him, too. Part of me wanted to take him with me.
“Yeah, well you should have heard the riot act Alex read me the other day. He went all psycho over what I did.”
“Can you blame him?”
“Nah, not really,” she conceded, then took a long pause, staring at her feet. “You know, I never really like-liked him, right?”
I said nothing; in fact, I held my breath. Lilly and I had let our entire situation drop given the severity of my current family problems. I needed her more than I needed to deal with her issues surrounding Alex. I really didn’t want to disturb that balance.
“I just saw my friends falling all over you and . . .”
“Over me? Are you kidding?” I asked, snapping my head toward her.
“Mariana, they didn’t stop talking to you every moment you were around and—”
“You’re nuts! You are certifiably insane. Lilly, they are all in love with you!” I shouted, looking at her with amazement.
“No, they’re not!”
“Oh, my God! They practically trip over themselves to see who gets to stand closer to you or sit next to you.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is! If you could have seen the way they looked at you at your Quinceañera. Some of them actually had drool coming out of their mouths.”
“Oh, please.” She shook her head and a lull fell over the conversation. I sat on the bed beside her. “Look,” she said, “I never liked Alex in that way. But seeing how much he liked you, made me wonder why he never liked me that much. I mean, it’s not like I wanted him to, I just, I just wanted him to want to. It’s retarded. . . .”
“I know what you’re saying.” I nodded.
“It’s just, I have all these guy ‘friends,’ ” she said with a sarcastic tone. “And maybe they want to kiss me, or whatever, but that’s it. None of them want to be my boyfriend, or at least not like Alex wanted to be with you. For God’s sake, he was talking about moving to Philly after knowing you for, like, two weeks!”
“First off, he didn’t mean it that way. If he goes to college in the States, I’m sure it’ll have nothing to do with me. And second, you’re the one pushing these guys away. Lilly, they’re all about you, but you string them along and act too cool. How can any of these guys think that you really like him when there are fifty other guys waiting in the wings? You’re the reason you don’t have a boyfriend,” I stated plainly.
Lilly twisted her head toward me. “Wow, that was deep. Are you always that deep?”
“I watch a lot of Oprah.”
“I can tell, it’s paying off. Now if you could only apply that to your family situation . . .”
“I know, seriously.”
Just then, I heard a loud chatter of excitement erupt in the living room. The front door opened. Even on a tropical island, I could recognize the sound of my father’s footsteps.
“They’re here,” Lilly said, patting my leg. “You ready for this?”
“No.”
She laughed. “Well, you better get ready.”
Only I knew that was impossible.
I knew when I walked out into that living room, my parents were expecting to see the same girl who’d left Philadelphia for the summer. Only, ever since the Quinceañera, I felt like I had changed—the clothes, the food, the language, the boyfriend. I stood now in Lilly’s bedroom, in a tank top and denim skirt, depressed at the thought of leaving this world behind. My brother was right when he predicted on the plane that I’d be crying when I left. But now I had more tears to add to the mix. I had grown up more in this past week than I had the entire fifteen years preceding it.Yet, somehow I had to find a way to waltz into that living room and look at my parents the same way I had before all of this happened, before the truth came out.
How was I going to tell them?
My father had no idea he was about to learn that everything his parents ever told him, all the reasons they gave for leaving Puerto Rico, all the stories they told about wanting to give him and his brothers a better life, all of those were lies. He was going to learn that his father cheated on his mother, that he had an illegitimate sister to add to his conservative Catholic family. And he was going to hear all of this from me. I was so scared that he would resent me. I’d be ruining the perfect image of courage and sacrifice that he had of his family.
I didn’t know if I could do it, if I could take all of that away from him.
Lilly babbled in the background as my mind raced. I stared at my reflection in her full-length mirror.
Wouldn’t I want to know if I had another sibling out there? Wouldn’t I want to know who that person was? Shouldn’t that decision be mine to make?
My mind drifted to my grandparents, the way my grandfather looked while he was lying in the hospital with tubes coming out of his nose. He knew he was dying, we all did. And I cried by his bedside. So did my father. And here he had another child, a daughter (his only daughter), and she wasn’t there with him. Did he even think of her in those last moments? Did he regret abandoning her, not g
etting to know her? Did he think of telling us the truth?
He’d spent most of his life hiding this secret, both my grandparents did. They left their entire lives behind—their family, their friends, their culture—all to keep this hidden. And it worked. They took it to their graves.
Now, was it really up to me to unbury it?
Chapter 48
The party was buzzing with energy. Relatives were dancing in the living room, the porch was filled with guys downing beers, and women chattered around my mother, not noticing that she couldn’t understand. Alonzo and José were setting the table while Lilly’s mom helped my aunt cook in the kitchen. My parents were stunned at the spectacle and for the first time I realized what I must have looked like the day I arrived—shocked, scared and uptight. Now, all this activity seemed commonplace and these people felt like family. This was no longer strange.
Alex was in the kitchen getting me another soda. My parents thought it was nice I’d made a “friend,” and they utterly ignored the fact that he held my hand. I had never dated before, and I think they were in denial that I might have started to while they weren’t looking.
I hadn’t broken the news yet. I was waiting for the right moment, when we could be alone. But there was always someone approaching my dad to talk about old times. He was busy remembering his Spanish and trying to translate on my mother’s behalf. We barely had time to catch up. I fidgeted with my hands, an impassionate smile plastered on my face.
Just then, Uncle Miguel emerged from the kitchen and yelled to me in Spanish that a car had pulled up, and that there was “una mujer especial” in front of the house.
My father turned to me to translate, only I was busy replying, in perfect Spanish, that I wasn’t ready. “Necesito un momento, por favor,” I said.
“Whoa, I guess a lot changed while you were here,” he said, smiling.
“Yeah, it did, Dad, which is what I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”
“You know, I’m really proud of you, Mariana. Both you and Vince.” He nodded out to the porch, where my brother was chatting with Lilly’s dad, Juan. “You both have grown up a lot.”
“We have Dad, but I need to talk to you about something else.”
“Mariana, I’m sorry we didn’t listen to you before planning this trip,” my mom said. “I know Madison’s party was important to you—”
“Mom, I don’t really want to talk about that right now,” I stated quickly, my eyes focused on the porch door, praying it would stay shut just a little longer.
“It’s just I saw the write-up about her party in the paper, about that actor who showed up, and I know you must be angry at us for having missed out on that. . . .”
“Really, Mom, it’s no big deal. I had fun at Lilly’s Quinceañera. Seriously, I did. Probably more than I would’ve had at Madison’s party, even with Orlando Bloom. But that’s not really the point right now. I need to tell you guys something important—”
Before I could finish, the porch door swung open and in walked a familiar face. She was tall and thin, with a pointed slender nose and small brown eyes. Her dark red hair waved in the breeze and fell to the top of her white summer dress. I could now clearly see the family resemblance. Teresa was my grandfather’s daughter.
“Dad, I have to tell you something,” I quickly said under my breath, only he wasn’t listening.
He slowly walked to the porch door and stopped in front of Teresa. She extended her hand politely.
“Lorenzo. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
“I’m so glad you came,” he replied.
My jaw dropped toward the floor. I gawked, my breath held tight in my lungs as the blood rushed to my feet.
“Hello, again, Mariana,” she said, turning to me with an easy grin.
I said nothing.
“I see you already met my daughter.” My father then gestured to my mom. “And this is my wife, Irina.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” my mom said politely.
What? Since when? My brain felt moments from exploding.
“Dad, what’s going on? I mean, um, do you know who this is?” I gasped, my face contorted in an uncomfortable shape.
“Uh, Mariana, there’s something I need to tell you . . .” he started.
“About Teresa? ’Cause I already got the rundown from some drunk at a bar. Glad to see I panicked myself over how to tell you, for nothing. Have you known this whole time?”
Teresa coughed awkwardly and took a step back. I doubted she was offended. I had already called her child the spawn of Satan, so there wasn’t really much worse I could dish out.
“Mariana, this is Teresa . . . your aunt. She and I spoke for the first time last week. It’s a long story,” he responded calmly.
Chapter 49
My father knew. Well, not his whole life, but at some point in his late teens my uncles told him the truth. They couldn’t stand that my father didn’t resent their parents the way they did. They remembered the crazy “other woman” on the front lawn, and the town gossip, and my grandmother’s sobbing fits, and they hated my grandfather for it. They wanted my dad to feel the same way. Only he didn’t.
Of course, he was angry at first, he said. How could he not be? But as he got older, he realized that all the sacrifices my grandparents made were real. Their reasons for coming to the States may have been tainted, but the realities they formed for themselves once they got there weren’t. They did create a better life for their children, and they worked hard to get it. My dad felt like he owed all of his success to them and to the decision they made to leave Puerto Rico, no matter what the reason behind it may have been.
My Uncle Miguel was right. My grandfather didn’t want any family from the island at his funeral. He didn’t want to upset my grandmother. He thought he owed her that much. The last thing she needed added to her grief was a reminder of the crazy ex-mistress and her illegitimate child. So my father honored his wishes. It was out of respect for my grandmother that he kept his distance from Teresa, and his entire family in Puerto Rico, all these years.
So Teresa remained a dark secret. My dad knew her name. He knew she existed. But that was it. Until she called him a few days ago. She got his phone number from the funeral home that handled my grandfather’s burial; she kept a copy of his obituary in her wallet. She didn’t want to upset my father by showing up at this party unannounced; she felt like she’d already overstepped enough at the Quinceañera by speaking with me.
“This is so bizarre,”Vince whispered, as he twisted his head to spy through the porch door at our father and our new “tia” chatting casually in the kitchen.
“I can’t believe he knew this whole time. Do you know how many ulcers I’ve formed in my stomach over these past few days because of this?” I asked, sipping my soda as we sat on the porch.
“Ah, pobrecita,” Alex joked, patting my stomach.
“Well, at least you didn’t have to tell him,” Lilly added. “That’s what you were really afraid of, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, I guess. But I’m also just kinda freaked out by the whole thing. My grandfather had another child, another family, I didn’t know about.”
“Mariana, there was a lot of family you didn’t know about until a couple months ago,” Lilly said, patting her chest. “Things change.”
“I guess.” I sighed.
“You realize I have to be at Cornell in three weeks?”Vince said, shaking his head as he gulped his beer (something else my parents chose to ignore).
“I’m gonna be back at Spring Mills,” I whined in the voice Lilly always used to mock me. “God, I hope Emily and Madison start talking to me again. I royally screwed things up. I think they hate me right now.”
“No, they don’t, ”Vince said. “They’ll get over it. But hey, at least now you know you can make new friends.”
I looked at Lilly.
“So you guys have to come back and visit sometime,” Lilly said, with a nod of her chin.
&n
bsp; “And you’ll have to visit us. Both of you.” I glanced at Lilly and Alex. “Maybe you can come for my birthday.”
“Oh, God, the big Sweet Sixteen!” Lilly hooted. “What celebrity are you gonna try to get to attend? Brad Pitt?”
“Nah, I think I’m over that whole “Sweet Sixteen” thing.” I rolled my eyes.
“Isn’t it rather anti-American for a girl to skip her sixteenth birthday?” Alex asked.
“Who cares?” I shrugged.
“Hey, maybe you could have a party like Lilly’s?” Vince suggested. “Hire a salsa band, wear a nice tiara, cook some Latin food, invite girls with boobs . . .”
“Very funny!” I chucked a balled napkin at him as we all giggled.
I glanced into the tropical fields, remembering that first morning I stood on the porch moments before my uncle appeared, hacking at weeds with a machete to make room for Lilly’s party. I pictured the tent in the yard, and tried to imagine where on the grass I was standing when I first met Alex. I remembered the whole night vividly. It was when I changed.
“Excuse me, Lilly?” My dad had suddenly appeared at the porch door. “Your parents and I want to talk to you about something. What are your plans for next year?”
Lilly crinkled her eyebrows and flicked a glance at me, but I was too busy staring at my father. I had no idea what he was about to propose, how things were going to change next.
Keep an eye out for Diana’s next book,
AMIGAS AND SCHOOL SCANDALS,
coming in November from Kensington.
Turn the page for a sneak peek!
“Are you sure you wanna do this?” I asked as I piled clothes into my super-sized suitcase.
It was officially my last night in Utuado, the tiny mountain village in Puerto Rico where I had spent the summer. I was going back to Spring Mills.
“Of course,” Lilly answered as she scanned my 10th grade roster.
My mom snatched it from the mail before she hopped on the plane, and I was incredibly grateful that she did. Not that I didn’t already know which classes I’d be taking, but it was nice to see the schedule in its official form. I now knew which teachers I had, which electives I got, and how my day was laid out. It was the predictable, comfortable order of home.
Amor and Summer Secrets Page 21