24. We Don’t Divorce
WE DON’T DIVORCE
Alejandro
As is customary during Abuelo’s dinner visits, he sits at the head of the table and ignores the rest of us. It’s like we aren’t even here.
Allegra is the center of his world. She sits on his lap and eats off his plate no matter how many times Lettie tries telling her not to. Abuelo spoils her and eats all the vegetables she casts off to the side of their shared plate.
Dahlia sits to Abuelo’s right and Lettie to his left with Karina seated between her and Diego. I sit across from Karina next to Dahlia and might pay more attention to my meal if not for the awkward stand-off happening between Diego and Karina right now.
They were fine this morning when they took Allegra to her doctor’s appointment. What could’ve possibly happened in the last ten hours?
Their relationship has always been odd to me.
When it comes to Allegra, they are of one mind.
The way they raise their daughter together is admirable and to the untrained eye, one could mistake them for a real couple rather than cordial co-parents.
Since Allegra was born they’ve done everything together: birthdays, holidays, vacations.
Family portraits litter the walls of their apartments and if not for the eternally unlocked door that splits the narrow hall connecting their separate living spaces, they might as well be living together too.
But when it comes to their personal relationship outside of their daughter? A complete and total enigma. Somedays they’re inseparable and others it’s like witnessing Barcelona go up against Real Madrid; a reference I once made which perplexed the sports-challenged Karina.
Right now Karina’s squeezing into her seat to avoid brushing shoulders with Diego when he reaches out for the wine bottle. He pours himself a glass and places it out of reach despite her glass being nearly empty. The ferocious glance she casts in his direction could light the sun on fire.
Dahlia gives my foot a light kick under the table and inclines her head, asking a silent question. She wiggles her brows and I sigh in response to which she bites back laughter.
She lifts her cup to her lips and murmurs, “I think they should just fuck it out.”
“My brother wouldn’t survive it.”
She chokes on her water and laughs outright, disturbing the other conversations taking place at the table. She sets it down and leans over to kiss me. I’m not sure what I’m being rewarded for but am nonetheless supremely pleased with myself.
Lettie frowns. “What’s so funny?”
“Your brother.” Dahlia answers coyly.
My sister exchanges glances with our grandfather who shrugs. A loose curl falls in front of her eyes and she swiftly tucks it back into her updo.
Lettie spent so many years dyeing and straightening her hair that I’ve forgotten how much she resembles our mother.
Dark golden-brown locks frame her face, complemented by golden-brown eyes.
Next to Allegra, the only thing hinting at them being related is the texture of their abundant curls.
Otherwise, Lettie doesn’t bear much of a resemblance to us, she never did.
Aside from the light complexion she inherited from Abuelo, she looks like a slightly altered, younger version of our mother.
“They always kiss.”
Allegra’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.
“Why?”
Dahlia responds, “Because you kiss people when you love them.”
With a curt, matter-of-factness only children in their state of absolute innocence can possess, she tilts her little head, shoves a spoonful of beans into her mouth, looks at her parents and says, “Is that why Mami kissed Mr. Jeremy?”
I spit up my wine.
Lettie drops the knife in her hand, Abuelo casts a judgmental look across the table, and all the color leaves Karina’s face. Dahlia’s brows shoot up to her forehead as she sits back to enjoy the show.
Diego is silent. Simmering in place.
“Allegra…” Karina is too horrified to formulate a sentence.
“Does this one know you’re married?” Dahlia takes a satisfied sip of her drink. “Cuz, y’know, that caused so many issues between you and the last hook-up.”
Karina’s eyes narrow to slits. She looks like she wants to gun down Dahlia from across the table. “Isn’t your husband a mob Don?”
“Didn’t you get knocked up by his brother while married to someone else?”
“Ey!” Abuelo slams a hand down on the table. “No delante de la nina. Leticia.” He kisses Allegra’s hand and sets her down on the floor. “Llévatela.”
“Ven, preciosa.” Lettie ushers a pouting Allegra out of the room as she waves goodbye to us like a soldier about to be sent off to war.
Once it’s the five of us, Abuelo wipes the corners of his mouth with a cloth napkin and sits back in his chair.
As much as I hate to admit it, he’s aged in recent years.
Although still remarkably fit and strong for a man in his eighties, he was never the same after his stroke.
He’s easily exhausted and never seems to get enough rest, the bags under his eyes now a permanent resident on his face.
Still tall and sturdy, he could easily pass for fifteen years younger, twenty if I was being generous.
But as someone who remembers what their grandfather looked like while still in the prime of his life, the difference is noticeable.
“A ver,” he says diplomatically. “Quiero saber lo que está pasando en esta casa.”
The room remains quiet.
He lifts a hand as if to signal for our undivided attention. “I was married to your grandmother for over fifty years. And we never, ever brought our problems to the dinner table. Ever. Mucho menos delante de los ninos. I want to know what is going on. Now!”
Dahlia pushes out her seat. “I feel like Diego and Karina should—”
He points a finger at her. “Sit. Down.”
She plops back into her seat.
Abuelo’s piercing blue eyes survey the table.
“I am well past my child-rearing years. Or perhaps you’ve forgotten since I spend most of my time keeping the four of you on short leashes.
” He gestures between Karina and Dahlia.
“If the two of you want to kill each other entonces háganlo. But not in front of me and most certainly not in front of Lela. Is this what you want her to learn from a young age? That family is your first enemy?”
Both Dahlia and Karina avoid the scrutiny of his gaze.
“?Quién es Yemmy?”
Karina’s humiliation intensifies. “It’s Jeremy, Abuelo.”
He waves a flippant hand. “Eso mismo.”
“He’s one of the American dads at the dance school.” Diego barely manages to get the words out through gritted teeth. “Apparently.”
Karina’s back straightens. “I’m just going to come out and say it.”
Oh God, that can’t be good.
“Diego and I are getting divorced.”
“We don’t get divorced.” Abuelo states plainly. “We die.”
Dahlia snorts and has to cover her mouth.
Karina takes a measured breath. “Everyone knows our marriage has always strictly been on paper.”
“And in church.” He adds. “In front of God.”
“It was a last-minute ceremony because I was pregnant and no one wanted Allegra to be born out of wedlock. I only did it to make everyone else happy. No matter how absurd and antiquated I thought it was.”
Dahlia’s expression softens and I watch her gaze dart across the table. We both focus on Diego who is as still and emotionless as we’ve ever seen him.
“I don’t see why we have to make a thing of it.” Karina goes on. “Lela is getting older. She’s going to start noticing things—she already is. I don’t want to confuse her by making her think my marriage to her father is normal when she can clearly see from Dahlia and Alex that—”
She cuts herself off. There’ve been many times where I sympathized with Karina but never has my heartbroken for her the way it does in this moment.
Allegra said the quiet part out loud. She understands a marriage is what her aunt and I have but it looks different between her parents.
Dahlia and I love each other openly but Allegra’s never seen her parents so much as hold hands.
Add Jeremy into the mix and this whole thing has become too complicated for a three-year-old to understand.
Karina has had her own dance studio in the neighborhood for about a year now.
It’s one of few things that brings her joy and was a gift from Diego.
However, I’m sure my brother never imagined the gift he intended to bring him and Karina closer would be the thing to later drive them apart.
She had many false starts when we relocated to Barcelona but none of them made her happy.
Neither academia nor full-time motherhood seemed to cure her restlessness but dancing did.
She made friends, developed a clientele, and suddenly had a life outside of this house. I’m happy for her, I really am. But there’s still the part of me that wishes she and Diego had found a way to make it work. Dahlia and I thought there might’ve been some hope when we first moved back but…
Nothing ever came of it. Diego and Karina have since dated other people, discreetly of course, but those relationships were all short-lived. Things must be getting serious between Jeremy and Karina if she’s announcing her divorce to the family, no matter how symbolic their marriage may have been.
Diego gets up from the table. “I’m going to go check on my daughter.”
“Diego—”
He leaves and Karina buries her forehead in her hands where she applies pressure to her throbbing temples.
So much for a nice family dinner.
* * *
Dahlia
“You need to be nicer to your cousin.” Alejandro says.
I drop my comb on the vanity and whip my head around. “I am nice!”
Alejandro cuts a look in my direction as he puts his phone to charge on the bedside vanity. “Your comment at dinner was uncalled for.”