Blake
-I have a complicated day tomorrow.
-Are you kicking me out?
-You know you can't stay.
-The story of the capricious little sister.
Dana glares at me. I turn away from her. I don't want to get into an argument. I don't feel like spoiling a good fuck. She knows what we're not.
Plaf!
-Good night to you too.
The words escape me seconds before I fall into the sleep of relaxed men.
-I appreciate the visit and I'm sorry you went to so much trouble," I say, looking at my watch, not believing it's six in the morning.
-Stop with the subtle ironies. I can't stand them.
-If you try to convince me, you're wasting your time. I'm fine with the life I lead.
-Do you like it? This? -My Uncle Simon takes out a cigarette that he taps in the palm of his hand before lighting it. I'm tired of telling him that his Marlboro stinks everywhere he goes. Son, I know your tastes, this hovel isn't half the size of my bathroom. You don't need to live with hardship.
-We do not.
I don't know if it bothers me more that he offended my work, forgot about Mariam's existence or that he compared my 200 square meter duplex with his bathroom.
-What do you want.
-Your company needs you.
-You mean you company. My teeth hurt from so much pressure.
-She wanted you at the forefront of everything. We both know that.
Hearing him talk about my mother breaks me with rage. My mother was not what he thought.
-He regretted all his mistakes.
-Those papers are a delirium of no importance. Come on son, we all would have wished for a home with gardens reeking of roses, but here we are, alone and chewing glass. You are his son and you have to assume your obligation.
-Mariam is also his daughter.
-The little girl too, although we both know that this is a man's job. We have a lot of diversification ahead of us. She has enough to do with shopping and treating her hair with jojoba.
-He is only seventeen years old.
My fists clench to the point that I can't rule out breaking a bone.
And you twenty-four. Come on, boy, the years go by like a flock of stunned vultures. You must do your duty and travel to Madrid.
-Madrid? He walks to the window admiring the sunrise over Baltimore Bay that begins to shine behind the large window.
-I got it.
I was about to leave it in the living room and go to the kitchen to get a coffee when my leg locked in place.
-Do you have it?
My slim, elegantly built uncle turned arrogantly, blowing smoke toward the ceiling. In profile, the straight nose line and pronounced cheekbones are identical to mine. Many say that physically I look just like my mother. I appreciate that, knowing I look just like Simon sickens my temper.
-I found it. That should cheer you up.
I try to take a breath and breathe without being noticed. I scratch my eyes, feigning disinterest. Simon can't notice the convulsions that unbalance my inner layer.
-What do you have?
-Everything. Are you with me?
-Of course. It didn't take three seconds for the answer to come out of my lips. I have been practicing for this moment for years.
Simon's means of finding her were always superior to mine. He, at least, knows her full name. Mine is reduced to a nickname. My mother's lawyer managed to describe her in the will as: that girl to whom I owe so much. But, as everything in Simon rounds through profit and loss, this was not going to be much different. The information is a complex skein of interests that not everyone can untangle, and her real name is one of his many well-hidden threads in his seamstress of convenience. I can't believe that after years of seeking to gain her trust I am finally on the cusp of victory and about to hear what I so desire.
-I will send you the details to your office. She would be proud of you. We will find her and fix your mother's mistakes.
Simon left leaving me with my knees pinned by the white leather sofa.
-You have to travel.
-You said you would sleep at Solange's house. I answer to the freckled reflection hidden behind the glass of the door that separates the kitchen from the living room.
-We argued and I came.
I turn to see my teenage sister raise her shoulders with zero effort.
-As a child, you lied more creatively. When did you arrive?
-When that fool Dana was leaving. Don't worry, I took care of turning the lock twice to make sure she doesn't come back.
He walks with a glass of orange juice in his hand. Being my sister's legal guardian has not turned out to be an easy job.
-Relax. I'll pass on your sexual hysterics without commitment.
-Mariam! Either you behave or...
-You're going to send me to boarding school until I'm thirty and blah blah blah blah. You've said that a million times. ! -He's right, he's right. You have to travel to Madrid. She needs us.
-It may be another red herring.
-Or maybe not," he says, throwing himself on top of me to wrap his hands around my face. What if it's really her?
-We've been looking for her everywhere.
I steal the glass from him so that the sugary liquid doesn't spill on the upholstery of a few thousand dollars.
-But this time we will find it. I feel it here." Mariam caresses the center of her heart. The little girl is as cute as she is manipulative.
- ... please ... you promised.
-I would have to leave you alone.
-Solange's mother will be delighted to welcome me into her home. She has done it before.
-I thought you had a fight with his daughter," she hides her eyes behind her abundant hair. Paul is on a trip, he's not coming tonight and... you didn't know. I decipher instantly.
Mariam lifts her shoulders in mock disinterest. Paul is my best friend and my deluded little sister's platonic love.
-Maybe I was exaggerating a little bit and we're not fighting so much. Or maybe I wanted to meet your girlfriend?
The little song when he says the last word unsettles me. My heart is so empty that it bothers even me.
-I don't have a girlfriend. I pull her off me to get up.
I don't jump from bed to bed because I'm a womanizing idiot. I too would like to meet that special girl who would take away my desire to look for her in all of them.
-Of course she's not your girlfriend. We don't care about Dana.
-Us?
-I want you to fall in love with a girl who adores you, who loves me as her sister and let's go shopping at Harborplace before we have a drink at Hard Rock.
Mariam moves around the room flapping her arms like a butterfly. I wonder who she inherited such a good mood from.
-Are you looking for my ruin?
-You don't have money problems. So what do you say? Shall we go to Madrid?
-Shall we travel? Not at all. You stay here until I investigate how much truth there is in the information.
-And if it's her. And if you finally find her. I want to meet her! You promised!
-And I will keep my word. I have never lied to you.
What if I were her? Memories jumble together, driving my desires crazy. What are you like? How did you grow up? Do you remember me? Something inside me stirs restlessly like a crazy piece finally finding its expected part of the puzzle.
-You'll stay at your friend's house while I investigate. It may not be her.
-What if it is? -Oh, ! I'm so happy for you.
-For me? I thought this was all about fulfilling our mother's wishes.
-Yes, that too, but can you imagine it being her?
-We are already with those little birds of yours.
-She is part of you and you are part of her. That is a reality.
-Your imagination has no limits.
-Art, little brother. It's called art.
Mariam jumps into my arms. Her hair is disheveled and her wild spirit forces me to smile. Her face is just like our father's, but her spirit couldn't be more identical to our mother's. They are so alike that if I close my eyes I think I am listening to her. I hug her too. Mariam is the only family I have and my only cable to heaven. Without her bitterness would have consumed me.
-We will find her. She's waiting for you. I know. I'm sorry.
Mariam lets go of me to continue jumping next to the window overlooking Baltimore Bay. I want her dream to become my reality as much as I want to watch a sunset without feeling so bitterly alone.