“Simona . . .”
“When did she say she’s arriving? My God!”
“Simona, please!” Norbert says, scolding her.
And then I hear Simona’s even more angry response. “And, of course, since your niece is so well mannered, she calls Mr. Zimmerman instead of you and stays the night in this house instead of ours, right? Don’t you remember what almost happened if not for Björn?”
“I do remember. Don’t worry, that’s not going to happen again.”
I hear the back door open and see Simona through the kitchen window heading back to her house with Norbert trailing behind her. What’s going on?
I follow them with my gaze. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen them disagree about anything, and it worries me. But I’m even more concerned about knowing who this Laila is, why she calls Eric instead of her uncle, and what happened the last time. I should talk to Simona as soon as I can.
That night, when Eric and I are finally in our room, I say to him, “I bet you can’t guess what ringtone I’ve assigned to you.”
He calls me on his phone and cracks up when he hears “Si Nos Dejan.”
We hug and kiss.
“Can I ask you something?” I say after he lets me go.
“Of course, my love. You can ask me anything.”
“Would you consider giving me a job?”
He grins and hugs me.
“I told you that you have a lifetime contract with me, sweetheart.”
I laugh, remembering he told me that the day he sent flowers to my office.
“I’m talking about working at Müller.”
“A real job? Why?”
“Because once Dexter and Graciela leave, I’m going to get bored. I’m used to working, and a life of leisure isn’t going to be good for me.”
“My love, I work for both of us.”
“But I want to do my part. I know you have a lot of money but—”
“We have, sweetheart,” he says, correcting me, “we have. And before you go on, there’s no need for you to work because I can support us both easily. I’m not willing to have my wife be subject to work hours that have nothing to do with mine and be without you because you have other responsibilities to deal with. Therefore, end of story.”
End of story? I don’t think so. “We’ll leave the subject alone for now, but I want to be very clear, Mr. Macho, that we’ll talk about it again. Understood?” Eric sighs, nods, and disappears into the bathroom.
“I need to ask you something else,” I say once he’s back. He sits on the edge of the bed.
“Go ahead.”
I want to ask him about Laila, but I don’t know how. Knowing she’s called him and he hasn’t said a word bothers me. Finally, I just go straight to the point.
“Who is Laila? Why haven’t you said anything about her call? And why is she staying at our house?”
He’s taken aback.
“How do you know all this?”
Oh God, I feel my jealousy rising.
I narrow my eyes. “The real question is, why haven’t you said anything about the fact that a woman I don’t know has called you and is arriving tomorrow to stay with us? Go ahead, get mad, but be assured I’m much madder because you didn’t tell me about this.”
“She’s arriving tomorrow?” he asks, surprised.
I can tell by the look on his face that this is an honest reaction. He hadn’t remembered.
“Yes, if I hadn’t found out on my own, I might not have known about her until she was sitting at the table with us.”
Eric gets my point.
“My love, I’ve been so busy recently, I completely forgot to tell you. Forgive me,” he says. “She’s Norbert and Simona’s niece, and she was my sister Hannah’s best friend. She called, and, when I found out she had a work trip to Germany, I invited her to stay with us.”
“Why?”
“Hannah was very fond of her.”
“Have you ever been with her?”
“Of course not,” he says, taken aback. “Laila is an enchanting woman, but there’s never been anything between us, Jude. Why do you ask?”
“What about with Björn?”
He’s stunned by my line of questioning, and a little annoyed too.
“Not that I know of. But let’s say they had. I couldn’t care less, and I think you shouldn’t care either. Should I worry that now you care who Björn has been with?”
“For God’s sake, c’mon, Eric. Don’t be ridiculous!”
“Then don’t ask those questions.”
I go silent. I don’t want to tell him I heard what Simona said, but I’m determined to find out what she meant when she said, “Don’t you remember what happened last time?”
“Are you jealous of Laila?”
To such a direct question, a direct answer. “Yes, in terms of you. And, yes, I’ll forgive you for not telling me.”
He smiles; I don’t.
He leans toward me, but I don’t move.
He hugs me, but I don’t hug him back.
I’m feeling quite small. He takes me by the chin and makes me look up at him.
“You’re still not convinced the only woman I need, want, and adore in my bed and my life is you?” he asks. “I told you and I’m going to tell you a thousand times that I’m going to love you my whole life.”
Well, he’s managed to destroy all my defenses with that.
And now he’s made me smile!
“I know you love me as much as I love you, because the ‘now and forever’ on our rings is sincere,” I say, waving my ring finger. “But it bothers me that you didn’t tell me about the call, especially when it concerns a strange woman I don’t know who’s going to spend the night at our house.”
Eric pulls me toward him, and, when he has me right up at his face, he brings his mouth to mine. He licks my upper lip, then my lower lip, and then finally gives me a little love bite.
“Silly, jealous girl, give me a kiss.” I’m thinking of pulling the cobra on him, but, in the end, I give him a kiss, I give him twenty-one kisses, and we end up out of bed and fucking against the wall, which is how we like it.
The next day, when I get up and go downstairs, Juan Alberto has already left for Belgium. Last night, before we all went to bed, I gave him the kiss my sister asked me to. What a strange little fling those two have going on.
I try to find Simona to talk to her, but she’s gone shopping.
Dexter and Eric are spending the morning out of the house, dealing with business matters, and Graciela and I are going shopping. They’re going back to Mexico next week, and she wants a lot of souvenirs.
That afternoon, when we get home, Simona’s in the kitchen. I give her a hug. I always need that contact when Eric’s not around. She knows it, and she hugs me back.
I sit down at the little kitchen table, and she goes on with her many tasks.
“You’re very serious today. What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“You sure, Simona?”
“Yes, Judith.”
We stay quiet a few minutes. I’m about to say something when she suddenly announces, “C’mon, it’s time. Emerald Madness is starting.” I leap up to join her. In the living room, Graciela is reading. After greeting her, we settle on the couch and turn on the TV.
“Emerald Madness is starting,” I say to Graciela.
She smiles but doesn’t say anything.
As soon as the opening song begins, Simona and I sing along.
Graciela cracks up, and Simona and I do too.
We must sound ridiculous singing that syrupy little song in German. I’m turning into some kind of freak.
With our hearts in our throats, we turn to see the destiny of our beloved Luis Alfredo. He’s been shot, and Esmeralda Mendoza runs to aid him as another very handsome man comes out of nowhere to help them. The episode ends with Esmeralda crying in the hospital. She worries about the life of her lover, Luis Alfredo. What’s bad is not that she’s crying, but that Sim
ona, Graciela, and I are also crying.
When the episode finally ends, we’re all really sad, and then we just burst out laughing. We run to the kitchen for drinks to replenish our tears. Just then, Norbert opens the door, and there’s a young, fairly attractive woman behind him. “Hi, Aunt Simona,” she says.
I watch as the stranger throws herself into my dear Simona’s arms. Simona wraps them around her so as to not leave her hanging.
“Laila, how wonderful to see you.”
Norbert puts the bags down, then turns and leaves. He’s disconcerted and clearly getting out of the way.
“Laila, let me introduce you to Mrs. Zimmerman,” says Simona once Laila pulls back from her.
“You can call me Judith,” I say, extending my hand to the young woman, who smiles gladly.
“Delighted, Judith.”
“And this is Graciela; she’s a good friend,” I say.
“Delighted.”
“The same,” says Laila.
“Where would you like me to have her stay, Judith?” asks Simona once we’re through with the introductions.
“Wherever you want, Simona.”
“You’re calling her by her name!” Laila says, amused.
“Yes, now follow me,” Simona says before I have a chance to say anything.
“Auntie, just take the bags up wherever, and you can tell me what room I’m in later,” Laila tells her aunt with a tone I don’t particularly like. “I’m already familiar with this house.” Then she turns to me. “Thank you so much for letting me stay in your new home.”
First of all, she should be carrying the bags to her room, not Simona.
Second of all, that bit about “I already know this house” doesn’t go down well with me.
Third of all, she just crossed a line.
I’m about to say something as Eric steps into the kitchen, and when she sees him, she exclaims, “Eric!”
“Hello, Laila.”
“Congratulations on your wedding. My aunt and uncle just introduced me to your wife, and she’s charming.”
He gives her a pair of kisses and looks over at me.
“Thanks for the congrats. You could say this is the best time of my life.”
Everybody grins, and then Dexter comes to get him so they can get back to work in his office. The girl winks at me.
“I hope you’ll be very happy, Judith.”
Simona takes the bags, and Laila sits with Graciela and me at the kitchen table, where I submit her to an interrogation.
Goddamn it . . . I’m more like my sister Raquel with every passing day.
When Flyn gets home from school, Laila stands to hug him. He’s glad to see his mother’s friend.
That night, we have dinner an hour later than usual. I invite Simona and Norbert to join us, but Simona refuses. I don’t insist. I’ve noticed how much Laila bothers her, and I’ve decided to talk to her tomorrow morning.
When I wake up, like always, I’m alone in bed.
I stretch and suddenly realize something of tremendous importance: it’s Eric’s birthday. I brush my teeth, take a shower, and get dressed. I quickly grab the gift I hid under the stairway and go down four steps at a time to wish him a happy birthday.
Eric and Dexter are sitting together in the living room. I want to surprise him so I run and leap up over the back of the couch to land in his arms. Unfortunately, I get a little too much lift and end up crashing on the other side of the couch, and the gift rolls away from me on the floor.
I may have hurt myself. I may have damaged my wrist.
Eric shoots up immediately, and Dexter comes over. They look at me very surprised, not sure what just happened, and I don’t know if I’m more hurt physically or ego-wise.
How embarrassing.
Eric sits me down on the couch. “Where did you hurt yourself, my love?” he asks.
I give him my left hand, and, when he moves it, I groan. “Oh, c’mon, that hurts, that hurts. I think I sprained my wrist.”
Eric goes blank; he doesn’t quite understand what I mean because I used a Spanish phrase he doesn’t know.
“My love, I twisted my hand.” I move it to show him. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine with a bandage.”
The color comes back to his face.
“What happened?” asks Graciela as she and Laila come into the room.
“Got me, my love,” says Dexter. “All I know is I suddenly saw Judith flying over the back of the couch and hitting herself hard against the floor.”
Graciela, who’s also a nurse, quickly goes into action.
“I’m fine, but my wrist hurts.”
“OK, let’s go. I’ll take you to the hospital so they can do an X-ray or two,” says Eric.
“Don’t be silly,” I say, laughing. “Graciela will fix this with a bandage, right?”
She checks out my hand and nods.
“I don’t think there’s a fracture. Take it easy, Eric.”
But of course, Eric insists.
“I’m going to feel better if they do an X-ray.”
“I agree with you,” says Laila. “It’s best to make sure everything is OK.”
“Listen, my love, my hand is OK,” I say. “I just need a bandage, and everything will be fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’ll go get the medical kit from the kitchen,” says Laila.
Graciela and Dexter follow.
“Happy birthday, Mr. Zimmerman,” I say, finally smiling.
Eric smiles back. Finally!
“Thank you, my love.”
We kiss tenderly.
“This is the one-year anniversary of that free dinner I had with my friend Nacho at Moroccio when I pretended I was your wife. You came to my house later that night with a sour face and an angry voice and asked, incredulous, ‘Mrs. Zimmerman?’!”
He busts out laughing.
“Do you remember?”
“Yes . . . little panda bear,” he responds.
Oh, he’s so cute!
I laugh. It amuses me that he remembers my black eye that day. I can’t believe it’s been a year. How time flies!
Happily bringing back those memories, I search for my gift and find it under the table.
“I hope you like it and, above all, that it works after all the abuse it just took.”
He opens the package, sees the watch, looks at me, takes it out of the box, and puts it on.
“How did you know I like this watch?”
“I have eyes to see, my love, and I saw how you admired it every time you got your monthly catalog from that jewelry store. Also, you should know the owners opened an account for me even though I said no.”
“Of course; you’re my wife. Whenever you want something pretty and original, Sven, the jeweler, can make it for you.”
I smile. I’m more the flea market and costume jewelry type.
Graciela comes back with the bandage and sits on Dexter’s lap.
“C’mon, Judith. Let me wrap your wrist.”
Suddenly, I realize I haven’t seen Flyn.
“Where’s Flyn?”
“Marta picked him up a while ago,” Eric responds. “We’ll see him at dinner.”
“Oh, you’re not having dinner here?” Laila asks.
“No, not tonight. I’ve invited everyone to dinner for my birthday,” Eric replies, watching what Graciela’s doing.
“Oh . . . then I guess I’ll have dinner alone,” Laila murmurs.
I look at her. I see her sad expression, and I feel sorry for her.
My eyes meet Eric’s. We communicate in silence, and, when he agrees, I turn to Laila.
“Do you want to come with us?”
The young woman blinks. “I’d love to,” she responds.
Everyone’s happy to include her, and I go looking for Norbert. He’s in the garage with my Ducati. When I lay eyes on it, I get an adrenaline rush.
“Need any help?” I ask.
“No, ma
’am, don’t worry. The bike is perfect, all ready for the race. You’ll see. Do you want to give it a spin?”
Without hesitation, I climb on.
How could I resist my Ducati?
I ride off, screaming along to its powerful roar.
Norbert grins as I whoosh past him.
Without pads or helmet, I take a little blitz around our property. Susto and Calamar sprint behind me. The bike is amazing, as always! What a piece of machinery my father bought me!
When I pass one of the living room windows, I see Eric watching. I do a wheelie, but seeing his tense expression, I laugh and drop. When I come down, my wrist hurts.
Ten minutes later, I’m back in the garage, where Norbert’s waiting for me, and I drop off the motorcycle.
“What do you think, ma’am? Everything in order?”
I nod and touch my wrist. It hurts, but I’m not worried. I’m sure in a week it’ll be better.
Eric takes us to dinner at a wonderful restaurant. His mother, his cousin Jurgen, Marta, her boyfriend, and Flyn are there, waiting. We bring Dexter, Graciela, and Laila with us. Flyn rushes to hug us as soon as he catches sight of us, and Eric goes up to his mother, who kisses him.
“Happy birthday, my darling,” she whispers to him.
With laughter and good vibes, we wait for those still not here. Jurgen sits between Laila and me, and we talk about the race. I’m excited. I can’t wait to jump and race my bike. Eric doesn’t say anything; he only listens. When I write down where the race will be on a piece of paper, Jurgen smiles.
Frida, Andrés, and an unaccompanied Björn finally arrive. I notice a certain discomfort when he sees Laila, but he greets her as if she’s just someone he doesn’t know well. Then he sits as far as he can from her. That makes me think. Laila is a very cute girl, and it’s odd for Björn, the great predator, to move away in such a situation. Something happened, and I have to figure out what.
One by one, they give Eric their gifts, and he smiles gratefully. How happy my guy is on his thirty-third birthday. When I put candles on the cake and make him blow them out, I know he wants to kill me! I laugh and sing “Happy Birthday.” Finally, he smiles and keeps on smiling.
“I think you have something to tell me, don’t you?” Frida whispers in my ear.
When I see her face, I know exactly what she’s talking about.
“If you mean where we ended up the night of Oktoberfest, I’ll just tell you it was hot!”
Tell Me What You Want—Or Leave Me Page 14