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“I’m also calling because this weekend we’re having Christmas Eve dinner with my in-laws in Conil, and then we’ll be taking it easy at our home in Zahara. We’ll spend the New Year in Germany with my family. Eric will meet us in Zahara. Would you like to come?”
It’s a lovely plan. Any other time, it would have been perfect.
“No, thanks. I can’t. I’m doing stuff with my family, and I’m also working nights and ...”
“You’re working nights?”
“Yes.”
“Doing what?”
“I’m waiting tables at a pub and ...”
“Uff, Judith! You’re a server? Eric won’t be happy.”
“What Eric does or doesn’t like is not my problem anymore,” I say. “Besides, I have a race on Saturday in Cádiz and ...”
“A race?”
“Yes.”
“What do you mean?”
“Motocross.”
“You race motocross?”
“Yes. Every year, I sign up to participate in the motocross solidarity race to raise funds for toys for the less fortunate children of Cádiz. The competition—basically off-road motorcycle racing—is scheduled for December twenty-second at the Port of Santa María.”
Bicharrón, Lucena, and my father are delighted. They always enjoy these events as much or more than I do.
“Motocross!” she yelps, surprised. “Jude, I’m not gonna miss that. You know how to do the coolest things! If I ever have a daughter, I want her to be like you when she grows up.”
Delighting in her response, I laugh too.
“Where did you say it is again?”
“At the Port of Santa María.”
“At what time?”
“It starts at eleven o’clock in the morning. But, hey, Frida ... don’t tell Eric. He doesn’t like these races at all. They remind him too much of what happened to his sister.”
“What do you mean, ‘Don’t tell Eric’?” She refuses to listen to me. “It’s the first thing I’m gonna do when I see him ... If he doesn’t want to come, he doesn’t have to, but I’ll be there for sure.”
“I don’t wanna see him, Frida. I’m very angry with him.”
“Oh, for God’s sake! You’re worse than he is! If the world ends tomorrow like the Mayans predicted and you don’t get to see him again ... have you thought about how you’re going to feel?”
“Frida, the world isn’t going to end. And as for Eric, someone who doesn’t trust me and gets angry with me without letting me explain is not who I want in my life. He’s an asshole, and I’m fed up.”
“Are you both so stupid, you don’t see you’re made for each other? For the love of God, Judith, you have to at least talk to him!” Before I have a chance to respond, she adds, “Well, you leave everything up to me. See you Saturday, Jude.”
With a strange pain in my stomach, I hang up.
3
Friday comes and goes, and the world doesn’t end! The Mayans were wrong.