“And?”
“He was jealous, Cuchu.”
“No surprise there!”
We talk, but in very low voices so no one can hear us.
“If you went out with another man, it’s normal he’d be jealous. In his place I would have raised holy hell, especially after asking for your hand and having you deny it to me.”
My crazy sister lets out a laugh. I can see the happiness in her face. I laugh too and watch my niece screaming when she wins on the Wii.
“I slept with him,” says Raquel. “By the way, it’s really uncomfortable in a car. Luckily we were able to go back to Sweetheart Villa.”
I’m absolutely floored.
“He’s such a gentleman,” she says. “That man drives me crazy.”
“You slept with him!”
“Yes.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.”
“You?”
“What? Yes!” Raquel says. “Yes, of course, me. Do you think I’m an asexual clam or something? Hey, I have my needs, and I like Juan Alberto. Of course I slept with him. But I waited to tell you because I wanted to tell you in person.”
“Is this a new you?”
My sister raises her eyebrow.
“Hey, I’m modern now.”
We laugh.
“But wait—didn’t you say you had an argument?”
“Yes, but when he got out of the car and cornered me, oh God . . . oh God, Cuchu, my body was electrified!”
I can imagine! I think about Eric and sigh.
“And then he kissed me and said, with that accent of his, ‘I wouldn’t mind being your slave if you were my mistress,’ and I couldn’t take it anymore. That’s when I dragged him into the car and threw myself at him.”
I’m going to die from laughing so hard.
My sister kills me.
“You threw yourself at him?”
“Oh yes . . . right there, in that very alley, it was the craziest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I skinned my left leg with the gear shift, but Mother of God! What a moment! It felt amazing. I hadn’t had sex since the fourth month of being pregnant with Lucía and, Cuchu . . . it was incredible.”
Eric looks over at me and grins. He likes to see me happy.
“When we finished, he didn’t let me get out of the car and drove like a madman to your house,” says my sister. “You know, Papá had left him the keys and, when we went in—”
“Tell me, tell me . . .”
God . . . I’m going crazy. My own lack of sex makes me want to know everything about my sister’s adventures. She blushes, but she can’t stop her confession. It just pours out of her.
“We made love everywhere. On the dining table, on the porch, in the shower, against the pantry wall, on the floor . . .”
“Wow, Raquel.”
“Ah . . . and in bed too.” When she sees the look of amazement on my face, she adds, “Oh, Cuchufleta, that man knows how to possess me in a way I never thought I would experience. When we’re together, I literally become a she-wolf!”
My sister’s earnestness is overwhelming, and just listening to her raises my libido.
“I’m so jealous of you,” I tell her.
“Why?” But then she gets it. “When I got pregnant with Luz, Jesús didn’t touch me for four months. He was afraid of hurting the baby.”
Maybe what’s happening with Eric isn’t so strange.
“And when you had sex while pregnant, it was all right?”
“Hallucinatory. The desire is devastating, because your hormones are at peak levels, and that can be scary. Of course, when I got pregnant with Lucía, we separated, so I had a great time with Superman instead.”
“Wait, who’s Superman?”
“The dildo my foolish ex gave me. Thanks to him, I managed to get some relief.”
I am increasingly shocked by the things my sister says.
“Oh, c’mon, it’s not like I told you I participated in an orgy. How old are you?”
Her comment makes me laugh aloud. If she only knew.
Two days later, it’s time for my visit with the gynecologist. Everyone wants to go with me, but I insist on just Eric. My father and sister understand and stay with the children at home.
I take all the test results my doctor requested on my first visit, along with the records from my visit to the emergency room. I’m nervous, expectant. The doctor looks over everything. When she does the ultrasound, she keeps an eye on Eric.
“The fetus is fine. The heartbeat is perfect and measures correctly. Just continue your normal life and take your vitamins, and I’ll see you in two months,” she says.
Eric and I look at each other and smile. Medusa is perfect!
When I clean the gel from my belly and return to the office, the doctor’s typing on the computer.
“I’d like to ask you one thing,” I say.
She stops typing.
“Yes?”
“The vomiting will eventually stop?”
“Usually, yes. At the end of the first trimester, the nausea typically disappears.”
I’m about to clap. Eric smiles.
“And I can have sex? Sex with penetration?”
My husband’s face is something now. He loves that I asked.
The doctor smiles knowingly.
“Of course. Just be careful, understood?”
When we leave the doctor’s office, Eric is serious. Once in the car, I can’t stand the tension anymore.
“You need to understand, darling, that I’m not made of stone, and you’re a perpetual temptation. Your hands make me want you to touch me, your mouth makes me want your kiss, and your penis, oh God!” I say, touching it over his pants. “It makes me want you to play with me.”
“Jude . . . stop.”
I laugh. He smiles and gives me a kiss.
“I assure you that if I provoke you like that, I can’t begin to tell you what you do to me.”
“Hmm, this could get interesting.”
“But—”
“I . . . I’ve never liked ‘buts’ . . .”
“We have to take it easy so we don’t get freaked out again.”
“You’re absolutely right,” I say, “but—”
“Oh, so you have a ‘but’ too!” Eric laughs.
“I just want to play with you!”
He doesn’t answer. But he smiles. And that’s a good sign.
26
I’m a little better the next day, and I decide to go shopping in Munich with Frida, Marta, and my sister. We have a great time. I insist on eating a burger and, when I dip my French fry in ketchup, I laugh.
“I love junk food,” I say. “Medusa loves junk food.”
My sister frowns when she hears me call my baby that name, and Frida notices.
“When Glen was in my belly, I called him Eidechse,” she says.
Marta and I laugh.
“What does it mean?” Raquel asks.
I put another greasy fry in my mouth. “Lizard.”
When we leave the burger place, we consider going for coffee, but then we wind up at the oldest brewery in Munich, the Hofbräuhaus, so my sister can experience it. I drink water.
Raquel is blown away. She looks as dazed as I was the first time I came here and then shows off her great talent for beer drinking. That surprises me. I didn’t know that side of her. I notice Marta and Frida order a fourth round.
“Raquel, if you don’t stop, I’m going to have to drag you home.”
“Since you can’t drink, I’m drinking for both of us,” she says. “You know, you’re now in the most delicious phase of pregnancy: heartburn, swollen ankles, sore tits, and wonderful morning nausea.”
“Oh, you’re funny, beautiful,” I say, teasing.
“And from what you said, your libido is on high. How’s that going?”
I can’t answer. She’s being so mean!
“I can tell you that, during my pregnancy, poor Andrés avoided me,” Fri
da says. “I was a nightmare when it came to sex.”
What’s happening to me has happened to others, and they didn’t lose their minds!
We all laugh when they bring the next round. Seeing a friend, Marta calls her over. “Tatianaaa!”
A young blonde greets my sister-in-law, who introduces her to us. The girl is charming and chats with us for a while. When she leaves, I can tell my sister has had a bit too much to drink.
“Cuchu . . . I’m very faint, or I haven’t understood a thing,” she says.
I’m horrified when I realize we’ve been talking in German the whole time.
“Oh, Raquel, honey, I’m so sorry,” I say, and hug her. “We’re just so used to it.”
Finally, it’s the last night of the year.
We still haven’t had sex, but not because Eric doesn’t want to, rather because I’m still feeling like crap, and now I’m the one who can’t even imagine it. When Eric’s mother and sister come over this afternoon, he disappears. He doesn’t tell me where he’s going, and that makes me angry. I’m getting very grumpy.
It’s time for dinner, and Eric isn’t back yet.
“Simona, we’ll take everything to the table between all of us,” I tell her. “But I want you seated next to Norbert, understood?”
She pretends she didn’t hear me.
“I’m warning you: either you sit at the table and have dinner with everyone, or no one is having dinner.”
“Oh, Simona,” teases Marta, “please don’t make us go without dinner.”
“No chance of that,” says Sonia. “Simona and Norbert will join everyone for dinner.”
“My daughter is very stubborn,” my father tells Simona as we carry the trays from the kitchen.
Simona winks at me.
“Yes, Manuel, I’m starting to know her.” When she sees me wrinkling my nose at the coleslaw, she takes the tray from me. “I’ll take this to the table. The farther away from you, the better.”
“Thanks, Simona.”
“Sit down, honey,” says my father. “I’m done organizing the shrimp tray.”
I do as he says. Today’s not my best day. He sits next to me and gently moves the hair from my face.
“Why don’t you go to bed, my love?”
I snort and roll my eyes.
“No, Papá. It’s New Year’s Eve, and I want to be with you.”
“But, sweetheart, your face is telling us how drained you are. You feel terrible, don’t you?”
I nod. It’s my worst day by far.
“I think seeing and smelling all this food is not going to be good for you.”
I look at the rich prawns, the sautéed marinade, the roast lamb, and the ham my father brought from Spain, all of it prepared with such love.
“Oh, Papá, but I love your sautéed marinade, roast lamb the way you make it, the prawns. I think eating all that would give me a sweet exhaustion.”
He kisses me on the cheek. “You’re like your mother even that way. She was also very disgusted by the marinade during her pregnancies. Of course, when it passed, she ate everything in sight.”
The kitchen door opens, and Eric comes in.
“Sweetheart, why aren’t you in bed?” he asks when he sees me with my father.
“That’s what I’m saying, Eric, but you know how she is. Stubborn!”
I ignore them.
“Where have you been?” I ask Eric.
“I got an urgent call and had to deal with it.”
“Cuchu, look who’s here!” shouts my sister.
When I see Juan Alberto with little Lucía in his arms, I look at Eric and smile. That was the urgent matter!
Juan Alberto greets my father, who shakes his hand with a manly grip. Then he turns to me and gives me two kisses.
“How is the lovely new mom?”
“Bloated, but glad to have you here,” I reply, happy for my sister.
“Dexter and Graciela send you many kisses and hope to come soon to meet the baby.”
My niece comes running.
“Hey, dude, what are you doing here?”
“I came to see my pretty little lady and to challenge her to Mario Brothers.”
Luz throws herself into his arms. It is clear this guy knows how to win over my family.
Once Luz runs off, Juan Alberto looks at my sister, who’s in a daze, and kisses her on the lips.
“How is my queen?” he asks, right in front of my father.
Raquel kisses him back without hesitation.
“Very happy to see you.”
My father winks at me. I know he’s loving this.
“Sabrosa, tell me all about it.”
My sister, totally undone, puts a finger to his mouth.
“I’d eat you up if I could.”
Did she just say that in front of everyone?
Eric laughs. It’s clear Juan Alberto likes this. It’s clear that, after me, my father isn’t surprised by much. He’s such a good man!
When everyone finally leaves the room, the two most important men in my life hover around me, worried.
“I want to spend this special night with you, and I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world, understood?”
Half an hour later, we are all sitting around the table, and happiness has flooded my home despite my not feeling well.
This Christmas season is so different from last year, when we were just Eric, Flyn, Simona, Norbert, and me. Now my whole family is here, Eric’s family, Susto, Calamar, and Juan Alberto. Wonderful!
When Sonia offers lentils to my niece and Flyn, they wrinkle their noses. That makes me smile. But I laugh when my father offers Flyn tomato soup. His eyes sparkle. I do my best to deal with dinner. Seeing so much food and, especially, smelling it, is killing me. But everyone’s happiness makes this sacrifice worthwhile.
I squirm but tell myself I’m a champ and resist, barely eating, while everyone else stuffs themselves. My husband and Juan Alberto can’t get enough of the ham.
Once dinner’s over, we sit on the couch in front of the TV and explain to my family that we’re going to see a traditional German comedy skit.
When Dinner for One begins, everyone laughs, and my sister, who’s sitting on Juan Alberto’s lap, doesn’t understand a thing.
“Oh, Cuchu, Germans are so weird!”
Eric has his arms around me on the couch, just like last year. Once the skit ends, my father, Simona, and Sonia bring us glasses with grapes, and Eric does the same as he did last year: he sets up the international channel so we can see Puerta del Sol.
Oh, my Spain!
But unlike last year, this time I don’t cry. My family’s right here in the living room, and I feel completely happy. When midnight chimes, we all talk and ask for silence at the same time (that’s a Spanish tradition). I look at Eric, who’s gazing back at me, and we swallow grape after grape without looking away from each other. I want him to be the last thing I see this year and the first thing I see in the new year.
“Happy New Year!” Flyn and Luz shout as they finish their grapes.
This time nobody comes between us, and Eric, totally in love, hugs me, kisses me, and whispers in my mouth, “Happy New Year, sweetheart.”
27
Spending the Epiphany with my family here is everything I wanted: laughter, noise, and gifts. We all give each other presents, and when I open my sister’s and find a yellow onesie for Medusa, I’m so touched.
“Since we don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl, then yellow!”
Everyone laughs, and I cry, of course!
When I think there are no more gifts, Eric surprises me. He has more gifts for everyone! For my father, Juan Alberto, and Norbert, watches; for the girls, clothes and toys; and for my sister and Simona, beautiful white gold bracelets. Then he gives Flyn and me a pair of envelopes, which leave us speechless. Envelopes again?
Flyn and I look at each other, resigned. But when we open them our expression changes.
To see the gifts, go
to the garage.
Laughing, we hold hands and rush to the garage. Everyone follows us, and, when we open the door, the two of us shriek. Motorcycles!
Two precious and shining Ducatis.
Flyn goes crazy with the notion of a motorcycle his own height, and I cry. My motorcycle is right here in front of me! My Ducati! I’d recognize it even among two hundred thousand others.
“I know how important it is to you,” says Eric, seeing my reaction and holding me. “They tried to respect as much of the original as possible, but some things had to be replaced. Your father looked it over and said it’s much better now.”
I hug him and kiss him.
“Sweetheart, your bike was good before, but now it’s great,” says my father, who looks at us, delighted. “But I don’t want you anywhere near it until you have the baby, understood?”
I nod, excited.
“No worries, Manuel,” says Eric. “I’ll make sure of that myself.”
After a great Christmas holiday, my family and Juan Alberto return to Spain on Eric’s plane. As always when I say goodbye to them, sadness overwhelms me, and this time it’s double. Eric comforts me, but I don’t make it easy for him, and I cry uncontrollably.
Two days later, we go back to the airport to say goodbye to Frida, Andrés, and little Glen.
“I’m going to miss you so much,” I whimper.
My friend embraces me and gives me a charming smile.
“Me too. But take it easy, you know that as soon as Medusa is born, you’ll have me here.”
Andrés grabs me by the waist.
“Llorona, you have to come see us in Switzerland,” he says. “Promise?”
“We’ll try,” Eric says.
At that moment, Björn is saying goodbye to Frida. “Oh . . . oh . . . another one crying. Are you pregnant too?”
I laugh, and Frida slaps him.
“Don’t say that even in jest!”
After saying goodbye to our good friends and seeing them through security, Eric and Björn each take me by the arm, and we go straight to the car. I can’t stop crying the whole way home. They laugh but I’m inconsolable.
“I hate my hormones!” I shout.
The next day, bored, I start to put away the Christmas decorations and see the little pieces of paper with our wishes. I smile as I remember when we read them the morning of Epiphany. I read them again now. I love Flyn’s: “I want Jude to stop vomiting,” “I want my uncle’s eyes to heal,” and “I want Simona to learn how to make salmorejo.”
Tell Me What You Want—Or Leave Me Page 26