Now and Forever

by Maxwell, Megan

  “Are you hungry?” Marta asks.

  I shake my head no and tell them Betta will be there right now.

  “Oh no!” Frida says when she sees the look in my eyes. “Don’t even think about it! If Eric found out, he’d get even angrier and . . .”

  “And what?” I ask. “What does that matter now?”

  The three of us look at each other, and, like witches, we burst into laughter. We get into Marta’s car, and, twenty minutes later, we’re in front of the restaurant. Laughing, we concoct a plan.

  When we walk into the pretty restaurant, I cast my eyes over the place, looking for her. As I imagined, she’s sitting at a table with several people. I watch her for a while. She seems satisfied and happy.

  “Judith, if you want, we can leave,” Marta whispers.

  I shake my head no. My vengeance is going to be complete. I walk decidedly to the table. When Betta sees the three of us, she turns white. I smile and wink at her.

  “Betta, what are you doing here?”

  All the dinner guests at the table look at us, and I introduce myself.

  “I’m Judith Flores, Spanish like Betta.” They all nod. “Delighted to meet you,” I say, wearing my most charming and angelic smile.

  The dinner guests smile back.

  “A little bird told me someone was going to ask you an important question today. Is it true they asked to marry you?”

  With a dislocated smile, she nods, and her fiancé, a man of more than a few years, happily confirms it.

  “Yes, miss, and this precious thing has said yes.” Taking her by the hand, he adds, “In fact, my mother just gave her the family engagement ring, a real gem.”

  The guests applaud, and Marta, Frida, and I do too. We all smile when they offer us glasses of champagne, and, thrilled as can be, we accept them and drink. They make room for us. We sit down with them at the table, and Betta watches me.

  “Raimon, she really is a gem.”

  The man nods proudly. Amused with my two partners in crime, I egg on the guests. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

  Betta looks at me, furious; I clap happily until they finally kiss.

  I shake my head, and in my angelic voice, I ask, “And who’s Cousin Alfred?”

  A young man about my age raises his hand.

  “Have you told Raimon yet you’re sleeping with Betta? I think he deserves to know, even if it all stays in the family.”

  Everyone’s face changes. Raimon, the fiancé, stands up.

  “What did you say, young lady?”

  With sorrow, I nod.

  “C’mon, Alfred, tell him!”

  Everyone looks at the embarrassed young man.

  “Come now, Alfred . . . He’s your cousin,” says Frida. “It’s the least you can do.”

  Betta’s face is red. She doesn’t know what to do as the people who were about to become her in-laws demand she return the family ring. I look over at the pallid Raimon.

  “I know it’s a hard pill to swallow, but you’ll thank me in the long run, Raimon. That little gem is only marrying you for your money. You don’t do anything for her in bed, and she’s sleeping with half of Germany. And before you ask, yes, I can prove it.”

  Losing it, Betta stands up and starts yelling denials while Raimon’s mother tries to get back her ring.

  “Lies, they’re all lies! Raimon, don’t listen to her!”

  Marta, who has kept quiet until this instant, smiles with malice.

  Looking at the guests, she says, “My brother is Eric Zimmerman; he went out with her for a while, but he left her when he caught her romping in bed with his own father. What do you think of that? Nasty, right?”

  Shocked, everyone stands up to demand an explanation.

  “Oh, Betta, when will you learn!” exclaims Frida.

  Raimon is furious, and his parents, along with the other people, can’t believe what they’re hearing. Alfred doesn’t know what to do. Everyone’s yelling. Everyone has an opinion. Betta looks shell-shocked.

  “I told you,” I say to her in Spanish. “I told you not to mess with me, bitch! Come close to Eric, his family, his friends, or me ever again, and I promise they’ll throw you out of Germany.”

  That said, Frida, Marta, and I march out of the restaurant. My vengeance against that idiot is complete. With adrenaline pumping in our veins, we decide to go dancing at the Guantanamera. I don’t want to go back home.

  I don’t want to see Eric, and a little Cuban salsa and azúcar will do me good.

  38

  The next day, with a monumental hangover—the night before was a true ordeal, and I slept only a few hours at Marta’s house—I get back to Eric’s and he’s there. When he sees me walk in with my sunglasses on, he starts in on me.

  “So, where did you sleep last night?”

  I raise my hand to stop him. “I can assure you, it wasn’t in the middle of the street.”

  He grunts. He swears. He tells me how worried he was, but I pay him no mind. I walk decidedly, sensing his steps behind me. He’s furious, and, when I get to my room, I slam the door in his face. I wait for him to storm in and yell, but he doesn’t. Good! I don’t feel like listening to him growl. Not today.

  While I finish packing my things in cardboard boxes, I try to be strong. I’m not going to cry. I’m done crying for the Iceman. If he doesn’t care about me, I have no reason to love him. I have to end this as soon as possible. When I finish taping up a box of books, I decide to go up to the bedroom. I have lots of things there. Luckily, I don’t cross paths with Eric, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see he’s not there either. I leave a couple of boxes outside the room and go see Flyn.

  The boy is happy to see me, but when he realizes I’m saying goodbye, his face changes.

  “You promised you wouldn’t go,” he whispers.

  “I know, dear. I know I promised, but sometimes things between adults don’t turn out like you planned, and, in the end, they get more complicated than you expected.”

  “It’s all my fault,” he says, and his face twists. “If I hadn’t ridden the skateboard, I wouldn’t have fallen, and you and my uncle wouldn’t have argued.”

  I hug him, rocking a bit. I never would have imagined he would cry for me, and trying not to let the tears spill out of my eyes, I murmur, “Listen, Flyn. You’re not to blame for anything, darling. Your uncle and I . . .”

  “I don’t want you to leave. I have fun with you, and you’re . . . you’re nice to me. Why do you have to go?”

  I smile sadly. I’m incapable of explaining yet again the absurd story of why I’m leaving. Finally, I wipe the tears from his eyes.

  “Flyn, you’ve always shown me you’re a little man, just as strong as your uncle. Now you have to be that again, OK?” The kid nods, and I go on. “Take good care of Calamar. Remember he’s your superfriend and superpet, and give Susto some love too, all right?”

  “I promise.”

  His glassy eyes make my heart sink, and I give him a kiss on the cheek.

  “Listen, darling. I promise I’ll come and see you in a while, OK? I’ll call Sonia, and she’ll help us see each other. Would you like that?”

  The boy nods. He raises his thumb. I raise mine. We put them together and give each other a high five. I hug him; I kiss him; and with an aching heart, I leave the room.

  I can’t breathe. I raise my hand to my chest so I can finally inhale. Why does it all have to be so sad? When I go to my bedroom, I open the closet. I look at all the precious things Eric bought me, and, after thinking about it, I decide to take only what I brought from Madrid. When I pick up my black boots, I see a bag, open it, and smile sadly when I notice my naughty-policewoman costume. For one reason or another, I never wore it with Eric. I stick it in one of the boxes, along with my jeans and my T-shirts. Then I go to the bathroom and pick up my makeup and creams. Nothing else is mine.

  I open a drawer on the nightstand and see our sex toys. I touch the butt plug with the green stone. The vibrators. Th
e pasties. I don’t want any of it; it’ll just remind me of him. I close the drawer. My eyes fill with tears again when I see the lamp Eric bought months before at the flea market in Madrid. He bought two of them. Finally, I decide to take it. It’s mine.

  I turn around, and Eric is watching me from the door. He’s impressive in his low-waisted jeans and black T-shirt. He looks a little gaunt. Worried. But I imagine I look the same way. I don’t know how long he’s been here, but I know his gaze is cold and impersonal. It’s how he looks at the world when he doesn’t want to show what he’s feeling. I don’t want to argue. I don’t have it in me.

  “These lamps don’t fit in with your bedroom’s decor. If you don’t mind, I’ll take mine.”

  He nods. He walks into the room and touches the matching lamp on his nightstand.

  “Take it. It’s yours.”

  I bite my lip and put the lamp in a box.

  “That’s what’s always drawn me to you, that you’re totally different from everything around me.”

  I don’t respond. I can’t.

  “Judith, I’m sorry everything’s ending this way,” he says in a calmer tone.

  “I’m sorrier, I assure you,” I reproach him.

  He’s pacing around the room as if nervous.

  “Can we talk for a moment like adults?” he finally asks.

  I swallow the knot of emotions in my throat and nod.

  We’re each on opposite sides of the bed. Our bed. Where we loved, desired, and kissed each other.

  “Listen, Judith, I don’t want you to be unemployed because of me. I’ve spoken to Gerardo, the chief of staff at the Müller branch in Madrid, and you’re going to have the same position you had when we met. Since I don’t know when you’ll want to return to work, I told him you’d get in touch with him within a month to get your spot back.”

  I shake my head no. I don’t want to work at his company again.

  “Judith, be reasonable. You’ll need a job, and with the unemployment crisis in Spain, it’ll be hard for you to get a decent one. There’s a new boss in that department, and I know you’ll have no problems with him. As far as I’m concerned, don’t worry. You won’t have to see me. I know you’re sick of me.”

  Those last words hurt. I know he says them because of what I yelled at him the other night, but I don’t say anything. I suppose he’s right. Being able to rely on a job today is beyond the reach of many people, and I can’t reject the offer. I finally agree.

  “All right. I’ll talk to Gerardo.”

  Eric nods.

  “I hope you get your life back, Judith, because I’m getting mine back. Like you said when you kissed Björn, I’m no longer the owner of your lips, and you’re not the owner of mine.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  With his eyes fixed on me, he says, “Now you can kiss whomever you like.”

  “You can too. I hope you play a lot.”

  “Don’t doubt that I will,” he says with a cold smile.

  We stare at each other. When I can’t take it anymore, I leave the room without saying goodbye. I can’t. The words won’t leave my mouth. I walk down the stairs at full speed and go to my room. I close the door, and then and only then do I let myself curse.

  That night, after everything’s packed, I tell Simona a truck will come at six o’clock in the morning to take it all to the airport. Twenty boxes came from Madrid. Twenty will go back. I sadly pick up an envelope to do the last thing I have to do in this house. I write Eric in ink in the middle of the envelope. Then I take a piece of paper, and, after thinking about what to say, I simply write: Goodbye and take care of yourself. Better to keep it impersonal.

  When I put down the pen, my hand’s trembling. I take off the precious ring I already gave back to him once, and, shaking, I read what he had engraved on the inside: “Tell me what you want, now and forever.”

  I close my eyes.

  The “now and forever” was not to be.

  I squeeze the ring in my hand, and, finally, with my heart split in two, I place it in the envelope. My phone rings. It’s Sonia. She’s worried, waiting for me at her house. I’ll sleep there on my last night in Munich. I don’t want to sleep under the same roof as Eric. When I pull my bike from the garage, Norbert and Simona come to say goodbye. With an awkward smile, I hug them both and give Simona the envelope with the ring so she can give it to Eric. She sobs, and Norbert tries to console her. They’ve grown as fond of me as I have of them.

  “Simona,” I try to joke, “in a few days I’ll call you, and you can tell me how Emerald Madness is going, OK?”

  She nods and tries to smile, but she just cries even more. I give her a final kiss and get ready to go, when I raise my eyes and see Eric watching us from the bedroom window. I look up at him. He looks at me. God . . . I love him so much. I raise my hand and wave goodbye. He does the same. Seconds later, with the coldness he’s taught me, I turn around, jump on the bike, and leave without looking back.

  I don’t sleep that night. I just look into the emptiness and wait for the alarm clock to go off.

  39

  When I get to Madrid, nobody knows about my arrival. I haven’t called anyone. I hire a van at the airport and pack all my boxes in it. When I get out of the Metro, I try to smile. I’m back in Madrid!

  I turn on the radio; I try to sing along, but I’m too exhausted. When I get to my neighborhood, I feel a brief burst of happiness, but, later, when I have to deal with the twenty boxes all by myself, my happiness turns to bitchiness. Did I pack rocks in them?

  Once I’m done, I close the door to my apartment and sit on the sofa. I pick up the phone to call my sister, but then I hang up. I don’t feel like giving her any explanations yet, and my sister will be a tough customer. I plug in the refrigerator and walk down to buy some food at the Mercadona. When I get back and put away my purchases, the loneliness starts eating me up.

  I have to call my sister and my father.

  I decide to start with my sister, and, as expected, ten minutes after I hang up, she’s at the door. When she comes in using her key, I’m sitting on the sofa.

  “What happened, darling?”

  Seeing my sister, her pregnancy, and the look in her eyes pushes me over the edge, and when she hugs me, I cry, cry, and cry. She rocks me and tells me again and again not to worry about a thing, that whatever I do, I’ll be all right.

  “Where’s Luz?” I ask after I finally calm down.

  “At her friend’s house. I haven’t told her you’re here or, you know . . .”

  That makes me smile.

  “Don’t tell her anything. I want to go to Jerez to see Papá tomorrow. When I get back, I’ll visit, OK?”

  “OK.”

  I rub my hand gingerly over her swollen belly.

  “Jesús and I are separating,” she blurts out of nowhere.

  Did I hear her right? With a coldness I didn’t know my sister could muster, she explains it all to me. “I told Papá and Eric not to tell you so as not to worry you. But now that you’re here, I think you need to know.”

  “Eric?”

  “Yes, babe . . . and . . .”

  “Eric knew?” I shout, losing my mind.

  My sister, who doesn’t understand a thing, holds my hands.

  “Yes, darling. But I forbade him from telling you. Don’t get angry with him about that.”

  I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it!

  He gets angry with me because I hide things from him, and he’s hiding things too. Unbelievable!

  I close my eyes and try to calm down and focus on my sister.

  “But . . . But what happened?” I ask, trying to forget about Eric and me for now.

  “He was cheating on me with half of Madrid,” she goes on, so cool. “I told you a long time ago, but you didn’t believe me.”

  The news leaves me totally shocked. I wasn’t expecting that sort of betrayal from my fool of a brother-in-law. But what leaves me totally speechless is my sis
ter. She, who’s always so weepy, is suddenly centered and serene. Is it because of her pregnancy?

  “And Luz? How is she taking it?”

  She shrugs.

  “Fine. She’s taking it fine. She was really upset when I told her, but since Jesús left the house a month and a half ago, she’s been happy, and she shows me this happiness every day when I see her smile.”

  We talk for a long time, and I start to see for myself how strong my sister is and, in particular, that she’s all right in spite of her disappointment and her pregnancy.

  “Is my car in the parking lot?”

  “Yes, dear. It runs beautifully. I’ve been using it for the past few months.”

  I nod and push my hair out of my face.

  “Don’t tell me what happened with Eric,” she whispers. “I don’t need to know. I just need to know you’re all right.”

  I’m thankful she says that.

  “I am, Raquel. I’m all right.”

  We hug again, and I feel at home. When she leaves that night and I’m alone, I can finally breathe. I’ve cried like I needed to, and I feel much better. But now I’m even angrier with Eric. How could he hide something like that? What a hypocrite!

  I decide not to call my father tonight. I’ll surprise him tomorrow instead. At seven o’clock in the morning, I get up and go to the parking lot. I look at my Seat León and smile. It’s so pretty! After getting in, I turn on the engine and head to Jerez. On the way, I have all sorts of little moments. I laugh. I cry. I sing or swear and remember all the things Eric’s done in the past.

  In Jerez, I go straight to my father’s workshop. I park the car by the door and see him talking to some friends. When he sees me, he stands stock-still for a moment, then runs over to give me a hug. His embrace is comforting, and when we pull apart, he looks around.

  “Where’s Eric?”

  I don’t answer. My eyes moisten, and, when he sees my face, he whispers, “Oh, sweetheart! What happened?”

  Holding back my tears, I just hug him again.

  That night, after dinner, I’m looking at the stars when my father sits down on the couch.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about Raquel and Jesús?” I ask him sadly.