Part 3 (1/2)
”Seven,” she clarified, after they had pa.s.sed the 18-wheeler.
”Okay then, seven months, so you can see it has been a long time.”
”But already more than two months since the time we got together.”
He neither acknowledged nor denied her last statement and instead let it linger along with the gas fumes that had seeped in through the crack in the window.
They had been sitting in the car at least five minutes, maybe ten. He wanted to glance over at the console, but she might ask if he was in a hurry. Fibergla.s.s siding covered the walls on either side of the carport, starting about waist high and leaving some s.p.a.ce for a man to walk under, if he wanted to get out that way. Parked inside the carport, he could easily make out the ceiling through the exposed rafters. The carpenters had used longer nails on the roof than necessary, and now hundreds of rusty tips p.r.i.c.ked through the ceiling and formed what looked like a bed of nails.
”I told my mother,” she said finally.
”All of it?”
”Enough, what she needed to know - how we met and how long ago, about your business, how you are, the things you say. She was only going to protest if I told her more.”
”Then you can imagine how it would be with these girls.”
”Girls.”
”To me they will always be my girls, no matter the age.”
”I even told my brother Marcos when he called,” Socorro said. ”And now he wants to meet you when he can come to visit.”
”If we still talked, I could go tell my brother.”
He glanced at the side mirror and spotted his neighbor Mrs. Harwell across the street behind her locked gate. The old lady held up the hem of her dress as if she were wading through a flood, then looked up to see how much farther she had to go.
”You never told me you had a brother.”
”You never asked.”
”Because you made it like you were the only one left, that the rest had already died. Why would I ask if I thought you had no brothers?”
She could feel the feverish sweat forming on her neck and chest again, and she tried to find some relief by pulling away from the seat back. If she didn't know better, she would have thought he had turned off the air conditioner.
”With this one, it's almost like that. He doesn't call me and I don't call him, that's how it is. How could I go tell him about us if me and him haven't talked in years?” He glanced into the mirror, and the old lady was now staring this way as if she had witnessed a crime and was trying to commit his license plate to memory.
”Even if you didn't tell him, you could have told me you had a brother. What would it hurt to tell me that one little thing? Why keep it from me?”
”You say it like I did it to deceive you. But there was nothing to tell you. What could I say? I have a brother, but it's like I don't have a brother. I have a brother, but he is like a stranger to me? I have a brother, but he would never care to know about my life or who I spend my time with? I have a brother, but it's like I don't have a brother. I have a brother, but he is like a stranger to me? I have a brother, but he would never care to know about my life or who I spend my time with?”
She could hardly listen to him anymore. What she wanted was for him to turn up the air conditioner, but at the same time she didn't want anything from him. It was just a little misunderstanding between them. Later, things would be fine again, like always. She knew this, and yet right then all she wanted was to get far, far away from him. She moved her face up closer to the air vent and left it at that.
”I never said anything about telling him.”
”Then?”
”Just why you kept it from me, Celestino, like it was a part of your life that didn't concern me.”
He tried to brush a strand of hair from her face, but she leaned away from him. Even upset, she looked more attractive than he had imagined her this morning when he was hurrying to get to the bridge.
”Why would you care about some old man you have never seen?”
”Your brother.”
”Yes, all right, my brother, so now you know.”
”Yes, now I know,” she said, but somehow he had the feeling they weren't talking about the same thing.
9.
La senora Munoz was sitting back in the recliner, watching the novela she had recorded yesterday. Socorro took another s.h.i.+rt from the laundry basket and spread it across the ironing board. If she timed it right, she would finish with the clothes about the time it took them to watch this episode of Mi destino perdido. Mi destino perdido. La senora liked to say the tragedies weren't any less sad the second time she saw them. In today's episode, for instance, poor Gabriela lies still in the hospital, thick gauze pads covering each of her eyes. What this beautiful young music teacher doesn't realize is that the doctor who saved her life and with whom she now finds herself falling in love, desperately so, is also the man who caused the accident that robbed her of her sight. Gabriela caught only a glimpse of Dr. Hernan Lozano Ramos as he sped up to pa.s.s her and then inadvertently cut her off and sent her car swerving toward a ravine. She is lucky to be alive. The doctor reminds her of this as he stands along one side of the bed and caresses her hand. He says it as a way of pacifying her, as well as discouraging her from trying so hard to identify the person responsible for her condition. A young police detective, much closer in age to Gabriela than the doctor, stands on the other side of the bed. He has come around again to help her recall some detail of the driver who didn't have the decency to render aid after causing this terrible accident. Eduardo, as the detective insists she call him, also has feelings for the victim. The fact that Detective Eduardo, as Gabriela prefers to address him, has been less than friendly and courteous toward the doctor has not set well with her. The doctor has stated, in no uncertain terms, that his patient should not in any way be upset. She is lucky to be alive. Of course, there is little for him to worry about as long as she cannot identify the other driver. And so the respected surgeon remains the only person who knows he was speeding with his unconscious wife in the pa.s.senger seat, sedated from the c.o.c.ktail he prescribed to help relieve her latest case of nerves. Gabriela blames herself for the accident. Distraught from having just discovered her fiance in bed with her half sister, she had been driving home in a confused and erratic manner that caused her to overreact when the other driver pulled out in front of her. She is lucky to be alive. La senora liked to say the tragedies weren't any less sad the second time she saw them. In today's episode, for instance, poor Gabriela lies still in the hospital, thick gauze pads covering each of her eyes. What this beautiful young music teacher doesn't realize is that the doctor who saved her life and with whom she now finds herself falling in love, desperately so, is also the man who caused the accident that robbed her of her sight. Gabriela caught only a glimpse of Dr. Hernan Lozano Ramos as he sped up to pa.s.s her and then inadvertently cut her off and sent her car swerving toward a ravine. She is lucky to be alive. The doctor reminds her of this as he stands along one side of the bed and caresses her hand. He says it as a way of pacifying her, as well as discouraging her from trying so hard to identify the person responsible for her condition. A young police detective, much closer in age to Gabriela than the doctor, stands on the other side of the bed. He has come around again to help her recall some detail of the driver who didn't have the decency to render aid after causing this terrible accident. Eduardo, as the detective insists she call him, also has feelings for the victim. The fact that Detective Eduardo, as Gabriela prefers to address him, has been less than friendly and courteous toward the doctor has not set well with her. The doctor has stated, in no uncertain terms, that his patient should not in any way be upset. She is lucky to be alive. Of course, there is little for him to worry about as long as she cannot identify the other driver. And so the respected surgeon remains the only person who knows he was speeding with his unconscious wife in the pa.s.senger seat, sedated from the c.o.c.ktail he prescribed to help relieve her latest case of nerves. Gabriela blames herself for the accident. Distraught from having just discovered her fiance in bed with her half sister, she had been driving home in a confused and erratic manner that caused her to overreact when the other driver pulled out in front of her. She is lucky to be alive.
Socorro held up the dress s.h.i.+rt and sprayed starch on the back. She was about to start on the sleeves when she turned to glance out the window.
”Are you waiting for someone?” la senora asked.
”No,” she said, pulling away. ”Why do you ask?”
She sprayed more starch on the s.h.i.+rt.
”Because already that's the third time you look outside.”
Socorro could feel herself getting red and hoped this was from her ironing. ”I just wanted to see who was driving by.”
”If you're so curious, you should go over there.”
”Over where?”
”To check on my neighbor,” la senora said. ”What else would interest you so much on this street?”
”We changed days, and tomorrow I need to clean the house for him.”
”You miss him?”
Socorro turned down the temperature on the iron until it reached the permanent-press setting, then a moment later turned it off completely but continued with her work all the same.
”Tell me,” la senora insisted, a little louder now. ”You miss him?”
”I work for him.”
”And because of that, you can't miss him?”
”Ay, senora, how can you say that?” She tried her best to laugh at the question.