Page 19 of That Last Summer

I enter the kitchen to find my friend revolutionizing everything in her path while my parents and Jaime watch her, amused.

“Good morning,” I greet everyone.

“Pris! Welcome home! I’m sorry I wasn’t here to welcome you yesterday, I had a crazy day.” Alicia comes over and wraps her arms around me. We’ve been in touch by phone and email, so I’m not surprised by her presence. I hug her tightly, thinking about how I’ve missed my people, maybe more than I thought. “Do you realize this is the first time we’ve seen each other in person since I’m Marcos’s girlfriend?”

That’s true. I found out about their relationship a few years ago, in a video call session where there were tears, congratulations, and a little bit of everything. And it was months ago that I found out about their upcoming wedding—in a video call session where there were tears, congratulations, and a little bit of everything.

I remember how I thought the wedding seemed kind of rushed—I smiled a lot at the screen, trying to follow the course of the conversation, but I couldn’t even speak. The only thing I could think about was that I’d have to see Alex again. Besides, who am I to talk about hasty weddings? No one, that’s who.

My mother snaps me out of my retrospective when she tells me to sit down at the table and places a coffee and a couple of peach jam toasts—my favorite—in front of me.

“How did you sleep on your first night here, darling?” she asks.

“Amazing. Like a baby.”

It’s unbelievable, but true.

“That’s wonderful. I didn’t want to wake you up, so you could rest.”

“How are you doing?” I ask Alicia.

“I’m on the verge of having a stroke, Pris.”

“She is,” Jaime says, sitting next to me.

“Yesterday I nearly had a breakdown, literally. You know almost all my family comes from out of town, right?” she says. “So months ago we booked fourteen rooms in that hotel I’ve always loved, the one at the seafront? And yesterday my aunt called me and told me that my cousins, the ones who weren’t coming to the wedding, well... now they are. So we called the hotel to book one more room, and guess what? There were no reservations! It was my mother who booked the rooms over the phone, but she did it at another hotel! One with the same name but in a town more than 300 miles away! 300 miles, Priscila! So now, since the wedding is in summer, the hotel I wanted has no vacancies and I have tons of relatives with nowhere to sleep. What do you think?”

“Don’t worry,” my mother says after that lengthy spiel, “we’ll find them a place.”

“Come on, sit down and breathe. And if I can help you with anything, just ask,” I offer.

“With anything, you say? You can help me with a thousand things!”

“There’s no harm in asking. So, shoot.”

“God, Priscila, you are the best.” She comes over and gives me another hug, then pulls a small notebook from the back pocket of her pants and begins turning pages and pages of hundreds of scribbled things. “Right, let’s prioritize... okay, yes. I need you to help me choose the wedding cake.”

“You want me to go and try cakes with you?” I sip my coffee, confused.

“No, I can’t do it. I’m up to my neck with the hotel issue and I have to solve a couple more things.”

“So... ?”

She points at Jaime and me in turn. “Could you two please, please, go Manuela’s Bakery and try the wedding cakes? I have an appointment with her today, but I won’t make it in time, and of course Marcos couldn’t care less. Where is he, by the way?”

“Still in bed,” I answer, bringing my toast to my mouth.

“I’m going to fetch him. Today, he’s not getting away! Will you take care of the cake? Pretty please?”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” She says cheerfully and kisses me on the cheek.

“What if you don’t like my choice?” I ask her with a mouthful of toast, chewing.

“I trust you!”

I hear her trotting upstairs and warn her of her boyfriend’s whereabouts before she searches for him in his bedroom to no avail. “He’s in my bed!”