18
“Give me that,” María orders, whisking my cell phone out of my hands. “Let me try.” My friend bites her lip as she types out a text to Eduardo while I stand helplessly by and watch.
As planned, we’re at a shopping plaza located a few miles south of town. Few people dare test the heat, but the raging weather is the least of my worries.
Eduardo hasn’t returned any of my texts or my calls. He’s always sickeningly prompt when getting back to me, eager to speak to me. But for the past twenty-four hours, he’s been avoiding me.
I never suspected there’d be more for us to overcome than mastering that ten-point jump. I should have kept pressing for answers after the attack. What if Eduardo won’t return my messages? Or worse?
“Nacionales is in a few days,” I exhale in a rush. “What if he doesn’t show?”
María taps my phone. “Read.”
I look down at the message she sent.
Luciana: Please ignore my vicious texts. I just need you to type OK if you’re well and another OK if I’ll see you on Tuesday.
As my eyes skim over her words, three dots appear. My lips part in surprise when I see Eduardo’s typed response.
Eduardo: OK ... OK.
I let out a long sigh of relief.
“Sometimes sugar goes farther than spice,” María says with a wink. “Especially your brand of spice.”
“Get through Nacionales. Then string him up by his toes,” Veronique adds.
I nod. My friends were as shocked as I was when I described what happened. How dare he send those men to my shop. How dare he lie to me and place me and my business in jeopardy. What is he doing with all that American money? But my friends are right, demanding answers now isn’t in my best interests.
“Now that that’s settled, let’s find you a dress.” María links arms with me, Veronique follows suit, and we resume our shopping trip.
A stone-paved square is at the heart of the plaza. Four shop-lined pedestrian roadways feed into it, each road dedicated to selling dresses and textiles, children’s clothing, jewelry and household items. Food vendors have set up carts in the square, each claiming a corner.
We spend a few hours deciding on my dress and indulging each other in a mini fashion show. But as the day progresses, I keep catching María and Veronique exchanging looks and I’m beginning to get the feeling they’re keeping something from me.
I wait until we’re seated at a table in the square and each have a brown paper bag ofchurrosin hand before demanding answers. “Know what would feel better than this treat right now?” I bite into the sweet cinnamon dough and allow a few seconds to indulge in my dessert and wait for my question to settle in. “The secret you both are withholding.”
They exchange nervous looks, confirming my suspicions.
“Spill the beans, amigas.”
María, always the more brazen of the two, speaks up first. “We were going to wait until after you won your scholarship to tell you.”
“And considering the surprise Eduardo gave you,” Veronique interjects, “we thought it best to wait to share the news.”
“Don’t keep me in suspense.”
One more exchanged look, then María blurts out, “I’m leaving Loreto for the States. I’ve been accepted into The University of Florida.”
“That’s wonderful,” I exclaim, genuinely excited for her.
“But that’s not all.” María looks to Veronique to finish.
My other friend draws in a breath. “After our talk over dinner at El Torero, I decided to act.”
Veronique hesitates and my stomach sinks.
“I’m moving to Germany in the fall.”
