Big Chicas Don't Cry(38)

“Anyone else not surprised that she’s not here?” Erica announced. I was grateful she was changing the subject. I’d just wished she’d changed it to something else.

Mari and Esteban hadn’t shown at the church, and part of me was hoping they’d walk through the hall doors soon. The other part of me wouldn’t let me hold my breath.

I couldn’t pinpoint the exact day, but sometime after she turned sixteen, Mari began to drift away. The divorce was hard on her. We all knew it. But we were young and naive to think we could make it easier somehow.

First, it started with excuses as to why she couldn’t come visit on her dad’s court-appointed weekend. She was sick. She had a school project to do. She wanted to spend the night at a friend’s.

So we stayed in touch by writing letters and talking on the phone. But by college, even those became fewer and farther between. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d come for Easter or someone’s birthday party. And then she’d missed this last Christmas.

“The party’s not over. She and her husband might still show up,” Gracie offered.

“Who is she?” Nathan leaned over and asked me.

“Mari, my cousin.”

Satisfied with the answer, he went back to eating.

Erica shook her head. “I don’t understand why everyone keeps hoping she’ll change.”

“Selena, you forgot to introduce your friend to somebody.”

We all looked up to see Erica’s mom standing next to our table with Welita. I wondered how much they’d heard. I nudged Nathan and we both stood up. Welita shook his hand as I made the introductions. She told him, in Spanish, that she hoped he was having a good time. And, to my amazement, he answered.

That impressed her, too, since she looked at me, pointed at him, and gave a thumbs-up.

Before my tía guided her back to another table, Welita said something to Erica in Spanish. She nodded sheepishly.

“What did she tell you?” I asked after they’d left.

Nathan answered before Erica could even open her mouth. “She said that you’re never supposed to give up on family.”

That meant that Welita had heard us talking about Mari.

We all stayed quiet after that and focused on finishing our food. Eventually, Nathan started asking questions again about the quincea?era traditions, and before too long we were laughing and Mari’s absence had been pushed to the backs of everyone’s minds.

Later, the lights in the hall dimmed, and the deejay announced my sister and her court. She looked so beautiful in her dress, and I could tell that she was deliriously happy. As I watched her and her court perform their carefully choreographed waltz, part of me almost regretted not having had a quincea?era of my own.

The waltz ended, and we all stood to applaud the performance. A popular song blasted over the speakers next, and Erica screamed in excitement. She grabbed my hand and dragged me to the dance floor. So I dragged Nathan.

The three of us danced to the next two songs before Nathan and I begged for a break and sat back down at our table.

“Since when do you speak Spanish?” I asked him as I watched my cousin and sister walk over to talk with my mom and Welita.

“Our next-door neighbor used to watch me at her house after school. I picked up words here and there by watching telenovelas.”

That made me laugh hard. “What other talents do you have that I don’t know of?”

He leaned over and whispered in my ear, “I have lots. Maybe if you behave yourself, I’ll show you some new ones later tonight.”

My heart sped up, and goose bumps erupted across my neck and down both arms. Since when could this man turn me on with just a few words? And although I’d been irritated by my family’s reaction, I had to admit that I was enjoying having Nathan at my side. And not just because of what we’d do once we got back to my place. He made me laugh and genuinely seemed to like my family.

What did all of it mean?

Then I remembered he’d be gone in a few days, and it would be a month or two before I saw him again.

So, in reality, it didn’t mean a thing. Nathan was a friend, and we liked to have sex. That was all.

And I was perfectly fine with that.

I really was.





Chapter Twenty


MARI


When Esteban walked through our bedroom door, I had just pulled out the last of the pins.

My scalp and the roots of my hair hurt after having been stretched by an updo that had taken forty-five minutes at the salon to create. I still wore my blue cocktail dress, though. Not because I was comfortable in it, but because I wanted him to see it.

He did.

“Why are you dressed up?” he said as he walked into his closet to hang up his suit coat and tie.

“Because for some silly reason I thought we were going to my cousin’s quincea?era today.”

“I thought that was next week,” he called out.

I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I walked up to him and shoved the invitation I’d been gripping for nearly two hours into his chest. “Nope. It was today. At three p.m.”

He followed me out of the closet. “Shit. I’m sorry, cari?o. I totally forgot. Why didn’t you text me?”

I turned around and threw up my hands. “Because I’m tired of chasing you down and asking when you’re going to be home. It’s Saturday, Esteban. Did you really need to be in the office this late?”