“What if it’s something about Dad, though? Listen, just give me a minute.” He had to yell over the music. I followed him out. We pushed through the crowd and made it outside. He had rushed ahead of me and was standing some fifty feet away, leaning against the wall of a shop with his phone pressed to his ear.
“What do you want me to do about it?” he asked. “I mean, Claudia, if he’s got a fever, call a fucking taxi and take him to the emergency room. Or call your parents! I’m sorry, but I can’t… I didn’t say it didn’t matter… I don’t hold what happened against the kid. How can you say that…? Stop apologizing for it. We’ll deal with it…” Not knowing I was there, Lucas turned and started bumping his head against the wall. I got close enough behind him that I could hear Claudia’s whiny voice, though I couldn’t tell what she was saying. Lucas went on, “Don’t cry, dammit… I know he has problems. I’m not insensitive, it’s just… I know I said we’d try to be friends… Fine… Yes. OK, get him dressed, I’ll be right there.”
Pale, he hung up the phone, squeezing it so tight his knuckles turned white.
I was furious. I could feel anger radiating from my core and overtaking my entire body. My eyes stung, and I had to clear my throat before asking him, “You’re going?”
“Her kid’s got a fever, her parents are at their place in the country, and she’s all alone. She’s nervous and worried. I told her I can’t, but…” He shrugged, as if there really were no other option.
“What about the kid’s father? Hedoeshave one, right?” I asked. Did he really not see where all this was going? Was he honestly that naive?
“He does, but he’s not in their life.”
“So you’re actually going to go?”
“I don’t want to,” he said, “but…”
“But what?” I exploded. I didn’t care anymore about being sensitive.
“What if something happens to the kid?”
“Lucas, you can’t make everything your responsibility. The entire world doesn’t depend on you.”
“So what do you want me to do, Maya? Just ignore her, ignore my family?”
Much as it hurt me, I glared at him. I knew I was getting mad at him for being a good person. But at the same time, it wasn’t that simple. No—our entire situation was anything but simple.
It was dark on that street, and I felt alone with him and the tingling in my hands, the sound of blood rushing through my head, the heat spreading upward from my neck. I could have told him to stay. But I refused to lower myself in that way.
“Whatever,” I said. “Just go.”
“Maya… Maya, please. Maya, talk to me!”
But I had already turned to walk back into the bar. I ran through the door before he could catch up with me. Right away, my phone started ringing. Lucas. But unlike him, I knew how to turn it off.
58
I spent that night sitting up in bed. I couldn’t sleep. I blamed myself for everything with Lucas a few hours before, but at the same time, I knew I had good reasons for being pissed.
I was disappointed. Hurt. Sad.
And I was tired of walking in circles. Feeling unsettled, uncomfortable in my own skin. Scared, confused, anxious. I couldn’t untangle all those feelings I was lost inside of, as if I’d wandered into a no-man’s-land.
Outside, I heard voices and got up. I cracked the door and listened to see who it was. I didn’t want to bother anyone. Then I walked down the hall of that unfamiliar apartment and peeked into the kitchen, where Matías and Rubén were sitting at the table, Matías in a robe and Rubén in his pajamas. They were talking softly, leaning in toward each other and holding hands. I was starting to envy how happy they seemed.
“Hey,” I whispered.
“Hey, honey. How are you doing?” Matías asked.
I shrugged and frowned.
“Come on, have a seat. It’s nothing a little coffee can’t fix,” Rubén responded, standing and popping a capsule in his Nespresso. “With milk?”
“No, as is, please.”
“Make me one, too?” Matías asked.
“That and anything else you want,” Rubén said.
