Maria sits down to my right, which relieves me from the daggers Silvana is sharpening to throw in my direction soon. Rosita sits in front of me, next to Maritza and Sofia. Luciano sits on the other side with Daniel, the groomsmen, and Alessandro. I’ll have to find a way to get to him this week, but I can’t stop thinking about the lipstick stain.
Maritza is wearing a bold red lip, just like Valentina said she often does. An empty feeling resurfaces in my gut. The air feels especially thin as I try to take a deep breath.
As everyone begins to dive into the array of foods on the table, I think of ways to bring up my father in conversation without appearing like a mood killer. No one wants to hear the dead-dad trope while enjoying a fresh mimosa.
“So Tía,” I say to Maritza. “How was it growing up with my mom?”
“Que cosa? What do you mean? She was a pain in my culo. Always wanted what I had.”
Rosita laughs. “Now you’ve got her started.”
“It’s true, and you know it too, Rosita. Every time we had something new and shiny, Mariposa wanted it too. Or she wanted a better version of it. It was so annoying! Maybe it’s because she was the baby. Maybe it’s because I’m only her half sister, so I spent most of my time with my father. Whatever it was, I was over it. Nothing was ever good enough for her.”
Damn, I clearly struck a nerve.
“That sounds a lot like her.” I laugh awkwardly.
“Maritza,” Rosita shouts. “Be nice. That’s your niece.”
Maritza looks over at me almost apologetically.
“I’m sorry, Isa. I know she’s your mom.” She turns to Rosita. “But she’s my sister, and I’ve known her longer. A pain in my damn culo.”
We all laugh.
“So you must have been happy when she met my father, right? Keep her busy?” I pry.
“That shotgun wedding? Iwishthat were the case. Her getting together with your father was the worst thing that could have happened to this family. It brought nothing but drama. She was just greedy. Mari wanted everything. She even—”
“Maritza!” Rosita shouts more sternly.
Maritza looks over at her and then back at me again.
“I mean, not the worst thing to happen to the family, mija. You’re here now.” She grins, but it feels forced.
Silvana holds back a snicker, but I can hear it escape slightly, almost as if she did it on purpose. My ears feel hot. Did Maritza say shotgun wedding? I was right.
“She just…caused a lot of drama. That’s all I’m saying.” Maritza sips her mimosa and looks away.
“Mija, don’t listen to your Tía. You know how she is. Your mother and father were great together. No one had a problem with it. We loved Roberto.”
Maritza scoffs.
Her lipstick leaves a stain on her glass. It looks nearly identical to the stain I have on the note, but not an exact match. Still, I can’t eliminate her as a suspect.
“Oh God,” I whisper to Valentina.
“That was a train wreck, wasn’t it? What’s up?”
“I think my father had a love affair with my aunt.”
Chapter Eleven
The next day, my mind is still reeling from the possibility that my father had an affair with Maritza. It’s unsettling, and I can’t seem to shake the thought. But with the bridal shower later, I push it to the back of my mind. There’s too much at stake today.
What does a bridal shower even consist of? I’ve heard of baby showers, and those are usually where you ogle at the new mother’s pregnant belly, eat tiny sandwiches, and buy baby gifts. I can only assume a bridal shower is the same, sans belly ogling and baby items. I feel like I should know this kind of stuff, especially if I’m trying to show everyone that I belong.
“Two iced coffees with oat milk and vanilla, please,” I say to the on-site barista.
