I jump, head snapping up.
Helen is standing right beside the counter, arms crossed.She takes in the scattered coins, the disorganized bills, the chaos.
“Move aside,mija,” she says gently.Her expression leaves no room for argument.
She steps up, sweeping the nickels back toward the drawer.“I’ll deal with this.”Her hands move deftly, sorting and securing the cash.“You,” she says, not looking up.“Grab a stool and sit.”
She finishes consolidating the cash, locks the drawer and pockets the key.Her dark eyes hold mine as she pulls a stool across from me and climbs on.Her posture is straight, resolute.
She waits.
The silence stretches, amplifying the hum of the fridge, the ticking of the wall clock, and the thumping of my pulse.
I trace the swirling pattern of the countertop with my index finger, unable to meet her eyes.
“Porfa, mija, you’ve been walking around like a ghost in a fog all afternoon.Dime, what’s wrong?”
I take a shaky breath, sit upright, but my gaze remains fixed somewhere past her.
“You were right,” I whisper.“When we spoke on the phone yesterday.You asked if it was about James.About the dinner…” I trail off, the humiliation still fresh.
Helen gives my arm a gentle squeeze.“What did thatpendejodo this time?”
My voice is hesitant, gaining a tremor as I recount the story I’ve rehearsed.“He never showed up.Left me waiting for an hour.”I tell her about Jake’s slip-up, the unanswered texts, the calls going straight to voicemail.“He just left me there.”
“Mierda, I’m so sorry, Ames.”
“That’s not even the worst part.”I clear my throat, forcing the words out.“I decided to go to his office.I had a feeling I would find him there.And I did.”
“Last minute business again?”
“I wish.”My voice cracks.
For a second, the café disappears.I’m back in that doorway, the ugly image burning my mind: James, shirtless.Candice, a mess of tangled hair and cheap lace, writhing on his lap.
“I found him with his latest assistant.Practically naked on his office couch.”
“¡QUÉ?!” The word rips out of her, echoing in the quiet café.It’s loud enough to make me flinch.“That slimy,CABRÓN!”She recoils from the counter as if the news itself burns her.“With hisassistant?!”Her voice rises incredulously.“On the couch in his office?!”She throws her hands up, her expression a potent mix of disgust and rage.“¡Ay, Dios mío, qué cerdo!What a pig!”
She starts pacing beside the stools, hands flying as she vents her fury.“I told you, Ames!Didn’t I tell you?Ese tipo es un pendejo!That guy is an asshole!Como dice el dicho, aunque la mona se vista de seda, mona se queda!”
She stops abruptly, noticing my blank stare.“Meaning, even if the monkey dresses in silk, it’s still a monkey,” she explains, planting her hands firmly on her hips.
Leaning forward, she looks me straight in the eye, her expression blazing with indignant fire.“Basically, James is a shiny piece of shit.”
She holds my gaze.The sheer force of her anger is a comforting shield.
Seeing my expression start to crumble, her fierceness melts into deep, empathetic concern.“Ay, mija.” She reaches a hand across the counter to mine.“Lo siento mucho.I’m so sorry.”
The whiplash from her righteous fury to this sudden tenderness.The betrayal.The exhaustion.The sheer ridiculousness of my life falling apart because of a man Helen just accurately described as a “shiny piece of shit”…
It all crests inside me.A frantic wave of unbearable pressure.
And then, something snaps.
A strange, choked sound forces its way up my throat.It’s not quite a sob, not quite a gasp.Helen probably expects tears.Instead, a single, sharp bark of laughter escapes me, startling us both.
Then the dam bursts.Instead of tears, helpless, hysterical laughter pours out.It starts as ragged gasps, punctuated by peals of manic noise, then escalates, taking over completely.
