“Alejandro’s married!” I cry desperately.
“Married?”
“I went to his place to give him a surprise for our first month anniversary, and he was in bed with another woman. His wife!”
At last, my mum comes out from the kitchen to hug me, but I draw back. “Mum, please put on some clothes! I’ve seen enough naked people today!” Apart from a colourful scarf in her long auburn hair with just a few grey strands, she is wearing nothing.
As a side note, I should mention that my parents are nudists, or naturists, as they define themselves.
I might digress and describe my parents, but I’m not in the mood right now.
“By the way, would you lend me something to wear?” I undo a few buttons to let her see what’s under my coat.
She comes back from her bedroom with two embroidered kaftans. I choose the acid green one, which gives off a strong smell of patchouli.
She sits on the cushion next to me in the lotus position.
“Help me remember, Alejandro…?”
“The salsa dancer.”
“Wasn’t that Roberto?” she asks, confused.
“Yes, but he also danced merengue.”
“Merengue? I thought the merengue dancer was Fernando…”
“No, Mum. Fernando was paso doble, at the Christmas Eve party.”
“They all seem the same to me… it must be because of my age,” she gives up, shrugging. “So, Alejandro is married?”
“Yeah,” I don’t know what else to say, but then I lose it. “What’s wrong with me? Why do men run away?”
“You’re perfect, Jemma!” says my father as his opening line. He’s just come back from the radio station. “I heard you screaming from the stairs,” he says, then he approaches my mum and kisses her. “What happened?”
“Alejandro is married,” she says, in a solemn tone of voice.
“Wasn’t this one Roberto?” Asks Dad.
“No, that one cheated on her with a figure skater.”
“Um, wasn’t Fernando the one of the figure skater?”
“No, Fernando had an affair with his sister,” says Mum to correct him.
Dad face palms. “Jings, how could I forget about that one!”
“It doesn’t matter who did what. This is the same old story: I’m not able to make any relationship work, they always cheat on me with someone else!”
Mum starts braiding my hair, which means she is going to talk about the major issues of life. “Um, Jemma, maybe you should figure out whether ten days are enough to consider it a relationship.”
“A month!” I correct her. “You and Dad barely knew each other when you got married!” I add, in an accusatory tone of voice.
“Those were other times, we were spiritual mates and we figured it out straight away.”
Her logic doesn’t work with me. “Perhaps Alejandro and I could have been spiritual mates, if only he weren’t married! And his wife even proposed a threesome!” I complain, outraged.
Mum and Dad exchange a knowing look.
