Chapter 32
Alma
Efren stares at me from the kitchen, and my heart races thinking about the night before. About the way I woke up tangled in him.
“I take it you guys don’t hate each other anymore?” Mireya asks, pulling my attention back to her.
I look away, and Efren goes back to cutting meat. Mireya and Adrian invited us each separately, and they appeared surprised when we showed up, our hands clasped tightly. I give her a sheepish smile.
“Cabrona. I knew it!” she exclaims.
“We’ve been civil,” I lie.
“He doesn’t look at you civilly,” Mireya emphasizes the last word, her eyes narrowing on me. “I need to know everything!”
“Why do you need to know everything?” I laugh.
“Because! I planned this whole dinner to see if you both could put your differences aside and stand up in the wedding together.” Her eyes soften, and she takes a deep breath. “I want you to be my maid of honor.”
My damn emotions get the best of me. I’ve spent my whole life searching for a friend, and the best is right here in front of me.
“Yes! I’d love to!”
I squeeze my friend in a tight embrace and don’t let go until the doorbell rings obnoxiously. Adrian moves to open it, and Thalia walks in with a bottle of Don Julio 1942, making a grand entrance as Thalia Consuelo always does. She shrieks when she sees baby PJ in Adrian’s arms and whisks him away.
“Mi bebecito,” she gushes while peppering kisses all over his cheek.
“Ya, you’re going to get your puta lipstick all over him,” Adrian says gruffly and steals him back.
Sure enough, PJ’s little face is covered in his Tia’s bright red lip prints. Behind Thalia is her husband, Silas, and their daughter, Lucia, along with their nephew, Luca.
“Where’s Ari? Mom, you said Ari would be here.” Lucia huffs.
“Sorry mamas, Ari had a big event yesterday.” Thalia frowns.
“Hey, guess what I got?” Mireya leans down to whisper in the mini diva’s ear.
“Papi, come with me.” Lucia grabs Silas’s hand and drags him with her to the back room.
“Wait for Luca,” Silas says.
“Luca! Come on!” Lucia says in her ever-bossy tone, and Luca follows excitedly behind them.
“Kami and Gordo are back there. My Tia Vicky gave me my old doll house, and we put it in the playroom for when the girls come over.”
“Is Gen here?” Thalia looks around.
Most of the guests are on the patio. Guests that I either know from a distance or hardly at all. Efren stays in the kitchen, him and Adrian drinking and laughing with Ricky and Lurch.
“No. Gen’s still on house arrest,” Mireya whispers. “Did you not tell Lucia what happened to Ari?”
A pang of jealousy courses through me—my two best friends have been involved in a world only they understand. I feel like a bystander watching as their lives unfold within the secrets and drama that bind them together.
I stay pushed on the outside with my own secrets. I want to scream and tell them the truth, tell them everything I’ve been through, and how Efren has been there through it all.
“No. Lucia wouldn’t understand,” Thalia says.
“What happened?” I ask curiously.
“Nothi—”
“She’s not going to tell anyone,” Mireya says. Thalia looks at me and nods.
“The guy they arranged for Ariella to marry, Preston Cuevas, he’s a politician,” Mireya explains. “He had a press conference yesterday, and someone opened fire. Ari was there and barely got out in time.”
My eyes widen with horror. I still feel horrible about accusing her of being with Efren. My jealousy had spiraled out of control, and my behavior still doesn’t sit right with me.
“Oh my god. That’s horrible. Is she okay?” I ask.
“Ya! Thank God Nero was there to save her,” Mireya replies.
“Nero, Shawny’s boyfriend?” I wonder out loud.
“?No mames!” Thalia laughs. “Did she say that? Shawny isn’t shit to Nero.”
“Who is Shawny?” Mireya asks.
“This hoodrat that works at the hotel and at Los Peregrinos’ bar. She’s been throwing herself at all the members, and none of them want her.” Thalia turns to me. “Alma, you can’t seriously trust anything she says. Her initials are STD for fuck’s sake.”
I purse my lips and think back to the initial paperwork she filled out before I bust out laughing.
“Oh my god, I didn’t notice until you mentioned it.”
“What’s her name?” Mireya asks.
“Shawna Tricelle Douglas.” Thalia snickers.
We all laugh, and it feels like the old days when we used to have our weekly hang outs.
From the back room, a small girl emerges. Immediately, I recognize her from Vicente’s birthday party. The tortilla masked girl who told me where Axel was.
“What’s wrong, Kami?” Mireya asks and rises to meet her halfway.
Without the tortilla shielding her face, I finally see her clearly. Her big brown eyes take up most of her face, and small brown ringlets fall loose from her pigtails.
“Hey, you’re the cheese moca!” she says, pointing her finger at me.
“Are you the cheese moca?” Thalia mocks, and Mireya laughs.
I roll my eyes. Kami walks up to me, studying me with curious eyes.
“Your hair’s like mine,” she says, tilting her head. “Nessy says it looks like sopa maruchan.”
Her voice is light, but something in it tugs deep inside me when her small hand reaches up to touch my curls.
“Kamila!” I hear a stern voice say, and turn to find an older woman coming toward us.
She stops immediately, her attention caught by mine.
“I’m sorry. She has no boundaries when it comes to personal space.” The woman stares at me intently before she turns to Thalia. “Who is this?”
“This is our friend, Alma,” Thalia responds.
“Are you from here, Alma?” she asks. She turns back to me, her face paler than it had been moments ago.
“No. We’re from Los Angeles,” Efren says, coming to my side
“Food is done,” Adrian announces behind him.
The woman looks me over again before she turns and follows everyone else into the kitchen without another word. Efren flashes me a look of concern, and I shrug in response. But Efren seems tense as we make our way into the dining room, taking a seat at the far end of the table by Thalia and Silas.
I quickly learn that the woman, Kami’s mother, is named Raquel and that she’s married to Ignacio, the man I met with Mireya at the hotel restaurant.
Raquel keeps a sour expression, except for when I catch her staring at me several times, then she offers up a tight lipped smile.
Ignacio, who they all call Conejo, is Patricio Consuelo’s right hand man.
He has a much larger personality and holds most of the conversation on that side of the table. His loud voice and laughter carry down to where we sit at the opposite end. I can see the small similarities between him and his eldest daughter, Genesis.
Next to Ignacio sits Adrian’s mother, Sandra, and Patricio Consuelo.
Mireya seems to have strategically set the table to put distance between Silas and Adrian.
From what Thalia shared, the Consuelos have been civil with Silas, but Silas is not always civil in return.
He still thinks they had something to do with his father’s death.
“Is it just me, or is Patricio glaring at you?” I whisper into Efren’s ear.
“I don’t know. I’m too busy staring at you,” his reply causing my cheeks to flush.
I look up to see if anyone’s watching and catch Mireya smiling widely at me from the opposite end.
“So cute,” she mouths.
“Did you guys purposely match?” Ricky asks.
I look down at my blue tube top, then shift to Efren’s blue striped Charlie Brown shirt.
“That’s kinda creepy,” Silas remarks through a mouth full of carne asada.
“Really?” Thalia glares at him before her eyes lower to his all black clothing that matches hers.
“You copied me, Diablita,” he says before lowering to whisper something in her ear.
I’ve never in a million years thought I’d see Thalia Consuelo blush, but there it is. Patricio looks down the table again, and there’s that same hateful look in his eyes. Efren stares back at him, and the whole table can feel the tension.
“Alma, have you seen the new episode of Maria de Cacahuates?” Mireya asks when the silence stretches too long.
Mireya hates confrontation, and tension is its ugly stepchild. Bringing up our favorite TikTok novela is a little strange, but showing up for your homegirl means you jump in feet first.
“Ya. I’m on the episode where Martha de Cacahuates drops the vase, and I’m pretty sure El Senor de Valeria is Maria’s biological father,” I reply.
“Shut the fuck up! So Maria de Cacahuates and Isabella La Vela are sisters?” Ricky gasps, joining the conversation.
Adrian looks at Efren with an arched brow, and Efren shrugs.
“It’s this series on TikTok that started out making fun of novelas, but now everyone is addicted to the drama,” Mireya explains to Adrian.
“It’s this one guy who plays most of the characters,” Ricky adds.
“And he’s fucking hilarious. He even makes his mom and dad act out different roles. It’s probably too much personality for you, Frankenstein,” Thalia adds in, teasing her brother.
They have a close relationship, even if most times they’re looking for ways to annoy each other.
“What’s it about?” Raquel asks, looking at me for an answer.
I swallow a bite and look at her nervously. The woman is intimidating.
“Well, it’s centered around a mother and daughter who work as housekeepers for this rich family, La Familia Valeria. El Senor Valeria is nice, but his wife and daughter can be pretty cruel,” I explain.
“Ya, because they know Maria de Cachuates is actually the biological daughter of El Seńor de Valeria,” Ricky says, shaking his head at the new revelation.
“It sounds like this family.” Efren chuckles.
Silas lets out a laugh, joining in, and even Adrian bites back a smile.
“This family?” Patricio asks, inserting himself into the conversation.
Efren stares him down. I grab his hand under the table, a silent plea not to start anything here. Silas looks from Efren to Patricio, then back to Efren, whose eyes are cold and focused on Patricio.
“Quieto, Pa,” Silas warns, but the two men don’t stop glaring at each other.
My eyes bounce between them, and Sandra’s calm voice sounds from the side. “Patricio.”
It’s more of a warning than anything. Patricio grabs the tequila bottle and pours more into his glass.
Thalia is next to me, giving Silas the same “don’t start shit” look I’ve seen her give him at so many of these family functions.
Silas looks at me briefly, then back to Efren.
I squeeze Efren’s hand slightly, and slowly he unclenches his jaw.
“?Sabes qué? Maybe you and Silas should enlighten me on what you think is so fucking funny?” Patricio swirls the brown liquor in the glass. “You both seem to be benefiting from our dramatic family.”
Efren sits up straight, dropping my hand, and Silas clenches the knife in his.
“?Ya basta!” Thalia says, shooting Patricio a stern look.
I’ve never seen family drama live before. Other than novelas like Maria de Cacahuates, so while part of me is invested in the chisme, another part of me is scared. Patricio is always very kind to me as an employer and the uncle of my friend. But I don’t like the way he’s looking at Efren.
“No pues.” Patricio laughs. “Efren doesn’t seem to have a problem living in a hotel that we own, working for a restaurant we run, or even taking part in the protection deal I set up for Adrian while he was locked up.”
“Aye,” Adrian says, warning Patricio, but it’s too late.
Efren laughs again—a cruel one.
The whole table is quiet. I look to Raquel, and her eyes soften on me, and then I look at the patio doors.
“We should go,” I whisper under my breath.
“Nah, Almita, you stay. Patricio can get his old ass up and leave,” Silas says.
“Excuse me? Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” Patricio replies.
“If you have a problem with me, Patricio, we can handle it like men,” Efren says, leaning over the table.
Everyone watches in silence as the tension between the men builds. Silas leans forward, his face calm, but I can hear the challenge in his voice. “Shit, if you’re feeling froggy, Patti, then jump,” he challenges Patricio.
A sharp laugh cuts through the air, cold and humourless. Patricio stands, pulling a pistol out of his waistband and aiming it at Silas. Mireya and I both gasp. Thalia sighs while Silas smirks, looking up at the barrel pointed at him.
“Patricio, bájale,” Sandra cries out.
“No. This fucker I’ll tolerate for Thalia and Lucia.” The gun aimed at Silas shifts, aligning with Efren. “But this kid? Why is he on my fucking property, Adrian? You know how I feel about him.”
“This is my friend. Lower your fucking weapon,” Adrian warns his uncle.
“Nah, homie. It’s fine.” Efren puts his hand out to calm Adrian, but his eyes are fixed on the man in front of him. “Tell me, Patricio, what the fuck do you think gives you the right to judge me?”
“Because I know punks like you,” Patricio responds. “Adrian has so much fucking potential, but it’s friends like you that come in and want to ruin where he’s going or mooch off the inheritance he’s been offered.”
“I don’t need shit from Adrian.” Efren scowls. “In fact, I don’t need shit from any of you.”
In a quick turn of events, Efren stands, and Patricio clocks his gun.
Silas pulls out a gun from the holster in his suit jacket and aims it at Patricio.
Like a domino effect, Adrian and Ignacio pull their weapons and aim them toward Silas.
Thalia pulls out two guns from under her skirt and points one at Adrian and the other at Ignacio.
Mireya gasps, Sandra cries out, and Raquel continues eating her meal like nothing has happened.
“Really, Thalia?” Patricio says, his voice lowering.
“Don’t think for one second I won’t defend my husband,” Thalia responds.
“I’m gonna go check on the kids,” Mireya says, swallowing hard. “Before I get back, I want everyone out of my house!”
Adrian drops his weapon when Mireya passes by him with a cold glare. Thalia drops hers, and all the weapons disappear.
“Ya bruja, vamos,” Silas says to Thalia.
I stand and grab Efren’s hand. “Can we go please?” I beg.
He squeezes my hand and gives Patricio one last glare. We’re halfway to the door when I hear Kami behind us.
“Wait! Wait!” she calls. I turn to find her holding up a picture. “I made this for you.”
I look down at the drawing of me. One eye is much bigger than the other, but she’s captured everything else: my blue shirt, my evil eye necklace, and my sopa de maruchan hair.
“This is beautiful. Thank you, Kami.”
I give her a hug before I reach back out for Efren, who’s watching the whole thing quietly. There’s a storm building in his eyes, and I can tell that if we don’t leave soon, he’ll unleash it on everyone here.
He doesn’t say a word. His hand holds mine tightly as he opens the car door and clicks my seatbelt into place. The car roars as we exit the property.
“You okay?” I ask.
“That whole fucking family is cursed,” Efren mutters.
“What happened between you and Patricio?”
He’s quiet. I watch as his brows furrow, and he collects whatever thoughts he has before speaking. “La sangre llama.” He sighs, then turns to look at me. “Patricio Consuelo is my biological father.”