15 - LARA
Australia, land of kangaroos... I still haven't seen any.
Then again, that's no surprise—I've been swamped with work since I got here, which is good, of course.
It wasn't even hard to find another job.
I chose the farthest one possible, with an immediate start.
The interview was online, the company covered all expenses, and off I went.
The hard part was picking myself up and moving on. Crossing the Pacific helped. Fresh air, different people, new languages. It all played a part. Of course I had to face some setbacks, but I made it through.
Three years of a new life.
To say I don't think about the people I left behind would be a huge lie. I do think about them. Less and less. I even snooped on social media, fact. I deleted my social media, fact. I buried myself in lists, checking off each item.
Then Guilherme came along, an angel on Earth. If I didn't have him in my life, I don't know what I'd do. He fills my hours with joy.
Sydney is one of the largest cities in the country.
We're strolling on a Sunday afternoon. We just watched a performance in one of the theaters at the Sydney Opera House.
Ever since I set foot in this city, I've planned to do a tour.
It was one of the rare times I couldn't follow through on a plan.
Yet. This is an incredible, enormous architectural complex.
From what I've seen, I can't decide which view is more beautiful—from the Opera Bar or from the Bay itself. It changes every time.
The afternoon is winding down, and there's going to be a light show on the exterior that will illuminate the curves of this icon of modern architecture.
We don't want to miss it, but Gui insists he needs to get a regalito—we talked with a Spanish woman the other day, and he picks up these things from people, it's actually funny—for his grandmother.
Off I go, dragged to one of who knows how many souvenir shops this place has.
He grabs my hand and pulls me along so we can be quick—he doesn't want to miss the show either, or for me to miss it.
“Lara?” I hear someone call out.
I look around. Well, it could be another Lara, of course. I don't recognize that voice... no... we barely spoke, but... it can't be... no... please, no. I feel a hand on my shoulder, I turn around. Yes. Her. All smiles.
Laura hugs me tight.
“Oh my goodness, what are the odds of running into you here!” She touches my hair, sliding her fingers through it. “I always thought this shade was beautiful. Tell me, how's life?”
The words are banal, nothing deep. I glance at Guilherme across the shop, holding an ornament and looking at another on the shelf.
I don't want them to meet. I don't want my sister to know anything about my life.
I tell her I'm just passing through, “touristing,” as she herself puts it.
I deflect when she tries to find out where I live.
The store alarm goes off. Suddenly, security guards appear, and I spot Guilherme in the middle of the commotion. I leave Laura and run to him, scoop him up, try to explain that he was just bringing the item over for me to see.
My sister watches everything in silence.
I go to the register. The employee apologizes, wrapping up a nice package while playing with the little one, who laughs. He's sociable, which can sometimes be a problem.
“And who's this?” Laura wants to know as we approach. There's no escaping now.
“Guilherme, my son.”
“Wow, the youngest and always ahead of the game.” She looks at my hand. “No ring?” To her, that must be a failure.
“I don't need one,” I let slip, my tone far from kind—matching hers toward me.
“Hi, pretty child, I'm Laura, your...”
“An acquaintance of Mommy's,” I rush to say.
Did I mention he's sociable? He's also very perceptive. He doesn't speak to Laura, staying quiet in my arms.
“Wow, Lara! I know you're a runaway, but to deny me like that?! Damn!”
“She said a bad word,” Guilherme whispers to me. He doesn't smile—he can feel how tense I am. I need to get out of here soon.
Then, he emerges from the crowd. Imposing. As handsome as he is wretched.
“Look, honey, he's rare like you,” Laura says, laughing, pointing out Guilherme's violet eyes.
“We're still trying, you know. Adam has a little dysfunction, but we're getting treatment.” She takes out her phone.
“I'm going to search—there must be more rarities like this here in Australia.” She looks up at me. “His father...?”
“He's traveling,” I almost trip over the words.
Guilherme stretches his little arm toward a frozen Adam. He almost manages to touch his face. The gap is too wide. My boy is clearly fascinated to see another human being with the same eye color.
“Hmm...” Laura doesn't even bother looking at us anymore. “I'm not finding much, besides the usual.”
“I found the entrance to the theater you want to see,” his voice hits me full force, though it's directed only at Laura, even as his gaze remains on me and Guilherme.
“Ah, okay,” Laura says, sounding uninterested as she turns back to the screen. “The signal’s bad, let me see if over here or”—she starts walking away from us.
Adam takes a step toward me. I don’t back away.
“We need to talk,” he whispers, his voice both hot and cold at once.
I shake my head.
“Tell Laura I said goodbye.”
I walk down the corridor toward the exit, thinking it’s over, when I feel a hand on my arm, stopping me. A touch I’d recognize even with my eyes closed.
“Lara, please.”
I turn to face him and speak without a trace of emotion.
“Prostitutes need to know how to deal with the consequences of their work.”
Using those words in front of my son was wrong, I know that, but I couldn’t help myself. Adam has to stay away from us.