Chapter 7 Aracely
Aracely
As Aracely drove, she stole glances at Claire in the rearview mirror. Matías’s girlfriend was quieter than Aracely had imagined, and smaller, too. He had described Claire as the quintessential take-charge American woman, someone who ran multinational billion-dollar deals by day and kept his life in order by night.
Good, Aracely had told him when he’d first begun dating Claire. You need someone like that.
It had always been Aracely who kept Matías on track when they were growing up, rather than the other way around, even though he was two years older. She had learned this very early, on her first day of primary school. Matías had proudly walked her to school, introduced her to her teacher, then left for his own class. But he’d left all his books and even pencils at home, so the day ended up a rotten one for him, and he’d gotten detention. Aracely had to stay late while he served out his punishment by cleaning the classroom.
Even that had taken longer than it should have because Matías kept getting exciting ideas for things to draw, and he would doodle on the whiteboard instead of making it pristine. Matías was artistic entropy personified, and he needed someone to contain him. Aracely ended up helping him put the room back in order, and by the time they arrived home, it was two hours later than it ought to have been. She resolved from that day onward to make sure Matías had all his homework and school supplies before they left each morning.
They were a good pair like that. Matías’s looming presence on the playground meant Aracely was never bullied. And when she was older, it meant the boys in her grade were extra respectful of her because they knew that one stray, less-than-gentlemanly comment would result in being pounded by Matías after school.
Looking at Claire huddled in the backseat, Aracely felt a pang of kinship. They were both women who were quite sufficient on their own and yet had enjoyed the security of being under Matías’s protective wing. They had also shared the role of letting Matías be the genius that he was, while helping to focus his energy.
And now they were rendered helpless. Nothing to do but wring their hands and pray.
Aracely looked away from the rearview mirror and reached over the gearshift for her other brother’s hand.
“It will be okay,” Luis said in English.
“How can you be sure?”
“You can’t,” Claire said from the backseat before she fell quiet again.