Do You Remember(38)

But I still love the movie. It always makes me think of the before time with my mother. It’s my favorite way to remember her.

“Five billion is a lot,” I say. “I’m sorry I did that to you.”

“Liar,” Camila says.

“Fine. Let me make it up to you. What do you want to watch?”

She lifts a shoulder. “I’m not much of a TV person.”

“Even when you were a kid?” I think back to my childhood. When I was little, my mother would only let me watch Sesame Street. As I got to be older, I was allowed more television privileges, but she was still pretty strict about my screen time. Of course, after she was gone, my father let me watch whatever I wanted. “I spent most of my non-school hours in front of the television when I was a teenager.”

She taps a finger against her chin. “After school every day, I would go to my grandmother’s house and we would watch telenovelas. She had two of them she was really into, and I would get into them too. I couldn’t wait to get home and see if, like, Luisa would go through with killing Alberto.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Did she?”

“Of course she did. It’s a telenovela!” Camila gives that throaty laugh. “God, I haven’t thought about that in years. I used to go to my grandmother’s house every day. And then I remember one day my mother said I couldn’t go anymore. She said Abuelita wasn’t feeling well. She didn’t tell me until two months later that she had died.”

“Oh no! They didn’t tell you for two months?”

“I know, can you imagine?” She scowls. “I don’t know what they thought would happen. Maybe I would forget her and stop asking? I even missed the funeral because of them. They should have just told me the truth. I… I’ll never forgive them for that.”

Camila is looking down at her hands. I’m not sure what to say. I want to comfort her, but at the same time, I hardly know her. Even though she knows me very well.

“I’m sorry,” I finally say.

She takes a moment to respond. “It’s fine. Like I said, it was many years ago. I haven’t thought about it in so long.” She lifts her eyes. “So what would you like to watch? A movie? A TV show?”

Somehow, I have lost all my enthusiasm for television. “Actually,” I say, “I’d sort of like to read. Where are my books?”

She nods at the corner of the room, where there’s a five-shelf wooden bookcase overflowing with paperbacks. “Over there. But you don’t read often. I mean, usually.”

I used to like to read, so that sounds strange. “How come?”

“You said it’s frustrating. If you don’t finish the book in one day, you’ve forgotten everything that happened and you have to start all over again. For a while, you would write yourself notes on what had already happened in the book, but then you stopped doing it.”

“Oh.” It makes sense. And it’s a depressing thought. “I don’t feel like watching any TV right now though.”

Camila gives me a long look. Finally, she gets to her feet. “I’m going to go to the kitchen. Give me a yell if you need anything.”

Camila disappears into the kitchen, but I don’t want to go snooping around the house quite yet. Instead, I reach for my phone and make sure I don’t have any missed calls. Namely, from my father or Lucy. But no. Neither of them has returned my messages.

I suppose I’m not surprised that Lucy hasn’t called back, considering she’s probably busy at work. But why isn’t my father calling back? He was getting close to retiring seven years ago, so he’s surely retired by now. Meaning all he’s got to do is sit around all day.

Is it possible he has a girlfriend? Maybe that’s what’s taking up all his time. Of course, it’s hard to imagine. I’m fairly sure there have been no other women in my father’s life since my mother died.

At first, I was glad he was honoring her memory. That he wouldn’t find somebody to replace my beloved mother. But then after I finished high school and went to college, I worried about him. He was all alone, and it didn’t seem to bother him one bit. When dating websites became more popular, I encouraged him to put up an ad.

I’m not interested, Tess, he would always insist. I’m fine. Don’t worry so much.

But I did worry. He said he was fine, but he never seemed happy. The happiest I ever saw him was when I brought Harry home with me for the first time—we had been dating for about six months and things were getting pretty serious. He’s a good man, my father told me the next time we talked. He’s going to be there for you for the rest of your life.

Well, he was wrong about that one.

I grit my teeth as I stare down at my father’s number on my phone. Why isn’t he calling me back? I don’t understand it.

But I’m not going to make him call by staring at the screen. So instead, I bring up an internet browser so I can google the name of my company.

Harry was right. My Home Spa is a big deal now. It seems like pretty soon after Harry and I got engaged, the company took off. People went crazy for the high-end spa products you could use in your own home. No wonder we had the money to make our house look like something out of a magazine. And no wonder we have the money to pay for Camila to babysit me all day.

Is that Graham’s motivation? Did he want to take over the company so badly, he turned me into a zombie just so he could be the CEO? Would I marry somebody so ridiculously diabolical?