Chapter 4
My Secret
Coco
“Mama,” I groan affectionately. “I have to hang up on you. I just got to Blanca’s house.”
“Remember to send me a message when you get where you’re going. Eat raw carrots. Be careful about leaving bug spray in the sun and, please… Take care of yourself. Take care with the boys. There are a lot of horrible diseases out there.”
“Okay, Mama…”
“And stop by home on your way back! I’ll make you a cocktail and you can tell me everything.”
My mother… She’s such a character.
Blanca seems kind of agitated when she opens the door.
She’s dressed, made-up; the house seems spotless; and she’s clenching her phone.
Her beautiful brown eyes are sparkling. I don’t know if it’s because she’s excited to see me or because she’s about to cry.
I’m a little freaked out, but her wide smile brightens her expression.
“Hey! Coco!”
“Who were you expecting?” I ask with a furrowed brow, watching her run her fingers through her brunette bob.
Her expression changes, and she shoots me a panicked look.
“Tell me this isn’t a prelude to my bachelorette week! For the love of God, swear to me it’s not going to be one of those bachelorette parties where the girls all mercilessly laugh at the bride, dress her like a giant penis, and force her to beg for change while she sings on the subway.”
“You’re so twisted. If I ever get married, all I ask is that you don’t organize mine.”
I hand over the bottle of white wine I bought on the way and a bag with the name of a fast-food sushi chain I know she loves. She eyes me suspiciously.
“If you’re worried I drugged the food like they did in The Hangover, I’m starting to think you’re gonna be pretty disappointed by what we actually have planned.”
“Ay, shut up, shut up.”
She takes the bag and finally lets me in. Just as it seemed from the door, the apartment is clean and organized. There’s not a trace of Ruben, her fiancé.
“Where’s your future husband?”
“He had plans.”
“So what were you doing?”
“I mean…nothing. Just sitting here. I don’t trust any of you, so I woke up at the crack of dawn and plastered on makeup in case you came here to catch me off guard.”
“We’re people of our word, sweetie. If Loren said Monday, it’ll be Monday. The little emperor has everything planned to the second. Or at least that’s what he’s led us to believe.”
She seems anxious, and a pang of doubt over whether we’ve gone too far with this bachelorette trip twists in my stomach, right when her phone starts making a repetitive noise.
“Fuck,” she groans when she looks at the screen. “I’m gonna grab some wine glasses and the corkscrew. You take the bottle to the living room,” she orders me.
Whatever conversation she’s involved in is agitating, judging by the way she’s crashing around in the kitchen. I’m about to go see if she’s okay when I hear Loren’s name and I relax. It’s just Loren…who could make the midday sun nervous.
“What does he want?” I call out.
“To fuck me up the ass!” Blanca answers without a trace of tact.
“Tell him if he hurries he can come eat sushi with us.”
“I don’t need you yelling at me.” She’s still talking to Loren when she brings over two glasses, although I notice she’s studying my expression. “I need a glass of wine the size of the Copa del Rey. Of course I know what the Copa del Rey is, you jerk! And that’s the size I need.”
She rolls her eyes and agrees a few times before she hangs up and hurls her phone at the couch.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” She clears her throat. “He was just scratching his need to overwhelm me with anxiety.”
I raise one eyebrow. Her laptop is open on the coffee table, but intuition tells me there’s something else.
I want to tell her that I’m the queen of lies and this has made me infallible at spotting them, but that would expose me.
My mother can’t help but use Blanca as an example of every good thing in the world.
It hasn’t made me despise her, because I love her and because she makes up for her impeccable track record with all the stupid stuff I know she’s capable of that my mother has no idea about.
Like on her birthday one year, when Blanca stole a cart from the supermarket and forced us to roll her around in it all night long.
“Coco…” Blanca puts on one of those good little girl smiles and settles next to me on the couch, moving aside a few cushions. “Coquito…”
“Oh, God… What do you want?”
“Liposuction,” she says with tender eyes. “Actually, some kind of liposculpture that can magically make me fit into a size eight. I’m not asking for much, just one size down.”
“What?”
“It’s a joke. Well, it’s not a joke. I want that, but you can’t help me there. You can do one better though. Give me a hint about the bachelorette party…”
“No fucking way!” I laugh.
“Just one thing!” she begs. “One tiny thing! What should I bring? Who’s coming? Where are we going?”
I stand up, rummage through a kitchen drawer for the corkscrew, and come back.
Seeing her is like finding an abandoned puppy on the sofa.
Her expression, the bags under her eyes that makeup can’t hide completely and are a result of her more-than-fifty-hour workweeks in her law office, where I’m sure she’ll end up being the youngest partner in history. I can’t help it: I melt.
“Fuck… You’re the worst.” I suck my teeth. “I’m not going to tell you where we’re going, but you need comfy clothes, like vacation clothes, something to go out in, but not a lot, bikinis, a towel, flip-flops, and…makeup basics.”
“That’s it? I’m not going to risk my life if I show up without hiking boots or something like that?”
“Loren and I organized it,” I say. “You know we’re such big fans of physical exercise.”
“What do I know! What if Aroa got involved in the planning?”
“That would mean us doing yoga at dawn, not scaling a vertical cliff face. Relax,” I say, grabbing the bottle and concentrating on opening it. “It’ll be fun.”
“Who’s going?” I have no intention of giving in more, but when I look at her, there’s something pleading in her eyes. Blanca is really nervous. “I need to know at least who’s going to be at my bachelorette trip, Coco. I swear I won’t tell anyone.”
I give in. “Just us.”
“Us who?”
“Loren, Aroa, you, and me.”
Her shoulders seem to slump, and she sighs and rubs her face. I can’t tell if it’s relief or disappointment. We tried to get her colleagues from the office and a few friends from university who she was still in touch with to come, but the dates didn’t work.
“No one else could make it,” I clarify.
“I know, I know. I understand.”
“We wanted it to be a mixed group.” I’m babbling on because something tells me she’s disappointed at having such a small crowd and I feel obligated to apologize for everyone else.
“But Marín couldn’t make it because of work.
You know he’s going on tour with that girl, Noa.
And Gus was too broke. We told him to just contribute whatever he could, but he didn’t want to. He said he would feel bad.”
Blanca grabs the glass of wine I hold out to her and clinks it against mine.
“Too bad Marín can’t come. Not for Aroa though, obviously,” she adds quickly. “It’s just that…he’s the apple of my eye. Don’t tell Loren.”
“Nothing he doesn’t already know. Marín is the apple of everyone’s eye.” I sigh.
“Listen… Does the fact that Gus isn’t coming have something to do with…you two?”
“Us? No, no. I think it’s more about being totally strapped for cash, and he can’t imagine spending a week with Loren, twenty-four hours a day without the calming presence of Marín. That was going to end up in the news.”
“Better this way, right?” She looks at me doubtfully. “Because…you…and him? I mean… You’re not still in a bad place, right?”
And there she is, my best friend, Blanca, the most trustworthy person I know.
“Blanca…” I sigh.
I hold my breath. She does too. Am I saying it? I’m saying it. I’m going to spend a week stuck in an RV with her. She’s going to notice, even if he’s not there.
Here goes. To hell with secrets. To hell with the belief that I’m actually protecting Blanca from an uncomfortable situation by not telling her.
“I…”
“Coco…” She grabs my hand and smiles. “Coco, it’s fine. Don’t spiral, okay? This is how love is. It’ll pass. Give yourself time. Who gets to say how long it takes to forget someone?”
“Right.” I make a face.
“The important thing is…do you want to forget him? Do you want to start again or do you want to try to make it work?”
Marín’s face floats up in my mind after that question, but I push it away with a lie.
“I’m getting there,” I promise.
Blanca smiles. I smile. The sushi’s going to make me sick, I know it.