Charlotte can’t help but feel like she’s being pulled from one corner of her comfort zone to the other, with Riley dragging her through all the remnants of reservations and shame. With anyone else she would have protested, but Riley’s confidence is so reassuring that she doesn’t mind it for now. Riley will catch her, she knows that. And if she says the word, Riley will respectfully take a step back. She knows that too, which is enough for her not to fight her on this.
She chooses to be absolutely not juvenile about it, so she sighs loudly and dramatically rolls her eyes, emphasizing Riley’s slip up. “Okay.Babe.”
When she looks back up at her, she catches Riley staring at her with a new kind of sparkle in her eyes; one that she hasn’t seen there before. Riley lifts theirjoined hands up and brings them to her face, but they get interrupted by a woman at one of the jewelry stalls.
“¡Hola, muchachas! ¿La bella dama es tu esposa?"” she asks Riley, beckoning her to come closer.
Riley snorts, at a loss for words for a few seconds. “Ya quisiera, señora.”
“Ah,” the woman seems to nod understandingly. “No me digas que…” She eyes up Charlotte and continues in a whisper: “...tiene marido.”
Riley looks at Charlotte too, beams, and replies: “Los hombres no tienen oportunidad.” She squeezes Charlotte’s hand again, who gets impatient now.
“Ehm, hello? Translation please?”
“Ah, ¿no entiende español?” the woman asks Riley.
“No, I do notentiende español, señora," Charlotte says in a thick American accent. At Riley’s entertained, raised eyebrow, she snarls: “Yes, I got that, thank you.”
The woman reaches out to tap Riley’s arm. “Es una dama temperamental, entiendo por qué la amas.”
Riley suddenly gets all flustered, stammering syllables which don’t make sense in either language. Charlotte’s frustration about being left out turns into amusement.
“No sé… No sé si la—”
The woman shakes her head and turns to the bracelets on display behind her. “No es ningún secreto, cariño. Se te nota a leguas.”
“Oh my god,” Riley mumbles, pushing her sunglasses up in her hair to pinch the bridge of her nose.
“What is she saying?” Charlotte demands.
“She… just wants to sell us a bracelet,” Riley replies, deliberately not looking at her.
The woman takes a green, delicately hand-braided bracelet off the rack. “A las mujeres les encantan los regalos. Esta pulsera tiene magia. Unirá el destino de quien la reciba con el de quien se la dé.”
Charlotte crosses her arms at the woman wiggling her fingers around the bracelet. “Is she cursing it?” she asks defiantly.
“Something like that,” Riley says, and she sighs. “¿Cuánto—?”
“No, no, no!” The woman starts smiling and shakes her head. She takes Riley’s free hand, and places the bracelet in her palm. Then she looks over at Charlotte and says with a thick Spanish accent: “For free.”
Charlotte snorts. “Thank you, but why?”
As the woman finds Riley’s gaze again, she says: “Solo soy una bruja vieja, no necesito dinero. Soy feliz cuando puedo unir dos almas destinadas.”
Charlotte tugs on Riley’s shirt, waiting for a translation again.
“She says… that this will protect you from demons. And you very clearly need it, because you’ve angered quite a few.”
Before Charlotte can be offended, Riley quickly says: “Muchas gracias señora, encontraré un momento especial para regalarlo.”
Riley receives an endeared nod, Charlotte a wink. She feels utterly confused as Riley pulls her away from the stall.
“What was—” Charlotte wants to ask, but Riley holds up her hand, and turns around to the woman one more time.
“Disculpe,” she says. “¿De verdad es una bruja?”
The woman’s eyes spark mysteriously as she puts her index finger up in front of her lips.
