5 - LARA #2
I don’t even know how many times I saw my siblings naked, tangled up with other people.
Some I’d seen before around the house, around the neighborhood; others I never saw again.
Underwear hanging in places I had no idea how it had ended up there.
It was absolute chaos. And they acted like it was the most natural thing in the world.
It wasn’t. Like I was the weird one. I wasn’t.
As soon as I could, I never came back. Until now. God help me!
I didn’t bring suitcases, just a backpack with a change of clothes, the dress, shoes, and toiletries.
I’m not a bridesmaid or anything, so it’s simple.
I take a bus from the airport to the neighboring city.
Yeah, I’m still not there yet. I decide to stop by my parents’ house before the church to drop off my bag and change.
They surely still leave the door unlocked.
Careless as always. Anyway, it should give me enough time.
If I show up halfway through the ceremony, that’s good enough.
Maybe I’ll just go straight to the reception hall and say I was in the back of the church—that’s why they didn’t see me.
As I pass through the streets, nostalgia hits me hard.
I see the path I used to take to school.
The bus stop. Mr. Alves’s snack bar, where I usually ate dinner, because if I brought food home, someone would take it or it would go bad.
The intersection leading to the copy shop where I worked.
The bar, where I dragged some family member out countless times, passed out after partying hard with drinks and drugs.
Except my sister Laura—she held back in those situations, never ended up in a gutter.
But she didn’t miss the party either. She was beautiful, but always looked kind of messy, makeup smeared, sweaty.
Still, men preferred her to me, the weird fat girl who was always studying.
I didn’t care anyway—my goals were different, crystal clear and well-defined. I achieved every single one.
I get off at the stop and call a rideshare. When I arrive at my street, I notice it’s packed with cars, mostly fancy ones. Strange.
I’m standing there. In front of the house.
I look around. I almost ask the driver to wait.
It can’t be the same house. Did they move?
Besides the family motto “Loyalty to the Bourbons,” my father’s mantra was that he would never get rid of the property—“for centuries it has stood, for centuries it shall remain” in the family.
Pure nonsense! The neighborhood gentrified, I bet someone offered them good money and they took off.
I grab my phone, unlock the screen, and open Contacts to call Nat.
“No waaaay!”
I hear a woman’s voice, clearly shocked and delighted. She pulls me into a tight hug.
“Natanael!!! Come see who’s here, honey!”
“I told you not to call me that,” I hear my brother whisper behind me and his wife. Yes, it must be her hugging me without so much as asking. “Not here,” he says through gritted teeth.
The woman spins us around and I see Natanael looking so well-dressed that I can’t hide my surprise.
“Lara?” He hugs me too.
I almost feel good. Natanael is Nicolas’s twin—while Nat, three minutes older, has a certain sweetness, Nic has fury in spades.
They’re identical in appearance, opposite in personality.
I just don’t know if that’s changed now that they’re 33.
Nat was the one who defended me at school.
Nic was team Laura, though he had his rare moments of defending me out on the street.
“I thought I was at the wrong house,” I say with an awkward smile.
“No, it’s quite different, isn’t it?” Tatiana, as far as I know, was always Nat’s girlfriend. She lived in the house next door, which, by the way, has also been renovated, let’s say. “Laura landed a rich guy,” she says, nudging me with her shoulder, smiling and raising her eyebrows.
“Tati,” my brother scolds, pulling her close. I frown, noticing the change in both their expressions. He flashes a polite smile, straightening up. “You’ll meet Adam, a man from as good a family as ours.” What? Ours? What parallel reality am I in? “I’m sure Laura will love introducing you.”
“Your mother bet your father you’d come to the engagement. He laughed so hard.”
Nat gives her a squeeze to shut her up. I want to scream at him. Tati always tried to include me, when what I wanted most was to be left out.
“Engagement? Isn’t this the wedding?” I ask, worried, as they practically drag me inside.
“No, honey, the engagement, of course. The wedding will be at the church. A cathedral, can you believe it?”
“Watch what you say, Tati,” Natanael reprimands her again. And again I want to scream at him, but I’m anxious. I came for the wedding, damn it! What’s this engagement nonsense? I don’t even care, I’m not coming back—they can marry these two today. Oh, give me a break!
“Look, it’s right here,” I say, pulling the envelope from my backpack, opening it and showing them as if to say: let’s get this wedding going, for God’s sake!
They laugh with practiced elegance in front of the guests in the spacious living room.
Since when has it been so clean, organized, and...
fancy? “I only brought clothes for the wedding,” I murmur, shrinking back a little.
Priscila and Bárbara insisted I should look stunning without stealing the spotlight. Now I’ll be the center of attention in a red beaded dress with flowing sleeves. And showing up in jeans, a blouse, and walking shoes won’t work either.
“Mom won,” Nat says quietly, just for the two of us to hear. “She’s really clever.”
“Mrs. Louise is amazing!”
“Don’t call her Mrs., love.”
Seriously, if he corrects her one more time, I...
I’m interrupted by a firm hand settling on my waist. I freeze. My breath catches.
“Dad, Mom beat you again,” Nat informs him. “Lara is here with us for Laurinha’s engagement.”
Suddenly, Tatiana and Natanael really do seem like different people. Standing straight, with blank expressions, delicate gestures.
The light kiss on my cheek burns my skin.
“I’ve never been so happy to lose,” his voice murmurs in my ear.
I’m no longer a frightened child or a teenager wanting to run as far away as possible. I’m an adult. A 26-year-old woman, my own person. I take a deep breath, my friends’ words echoing inside me. I turn to face him, stepping back slightly, subtly, without making a scene.
“How are you, Mr. Nicácio?”
“What’s with the formality, my beloved daughter? Call me Dad.” Of course he’s holding a glass of straight whiskey. Some things never change.
“Dad,” the word scrapes my throat. “If I’d known leaving home would cause all this change, I would have left much sooner.”
I hear my mother’s laugh approaching... elegant? God, what world is this?
“Lara, my dear daughter!” She hugs me with false affection.
I know it. I feel it in my bones. Why did she want me here?
Why...? Because Dad said I wouldn’t come.
She needed to win. Bets. Games. She changed the dates.
I’m starting to doubt the envelope ever even sat at the Post Office.
She must have planned everything. Cunning as she is.
“As they say, three kisses to get married, unless...” she holds my hands, glances quickly, “oh, no, no rings. Predictable.”
“You know how it is, Mom, ‘you have to enjoy life,’” I repeat what she, smoking, reeking of booze, sprawled on the living room floor, used to yell at my back before I closed my bedroom door.
“Oh, Mom, leave her alone,” Natanael says in his pompous lordly way, gently pulling me to his other side. “Lara is two years younger than Laura, so…”
“So she can find a perfect match right here, today,” she interrupts cheerfully.
“Who knows, mother-in-law, it really could be,” Tati says awkwardly. “Come on, sis, let’s find you some clothes.”