Page 7 of That Last Summer

“Yeah, no. One needs to have Cabana blood in the veins to participate in all their gatherings. I’m not invited to the most exclusive ones, and it seems the return of the house’s princess was something too intimate for me to attend.”

And she said all that without even taking a breath. I do not know why my sister-in-law hasn’t come home to celebrate my return with us, but I do know it’s not because my family has excluded her. My parents treat her like a daughter; they really love her. They’ve seen something in her that the rest of us have not.

Detaching myself from the imaginary axe my sister-in-law has wedged in my back, we say our goodbyes and continue on our way up the road. We both take a deep breath, partly because the slope is looking at us with a mocking expression, and partly because of our encounter with Catalina.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” Jaime asks as soon as we start walking again.

“And when did you want me to stop you, exactly? You were on fire! Fwee! Like a Sputnik!” I say, making a recently-launched-rocket movement with my hand.

“Fuck... are you two close? Because she didn’t look happy.”

“Hmmm.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means we don’t get along at all, Jaime. Don’t bother, Priscila, you and I know each other inside out by now,” I quote. “For the love of God, I just arrived!”

“Does River know?”

“Of course he knows! You should’ve been here for Christmas 2011... it was epic! Some of us still get chills just thinking about that Christmas. Between River’s thing, and Hugo’s thing, and me...”

“What about River, Hugo and you? There’s something huge in there, I can tell, but you’re talking in code.”

“Nothing,” I shrug it off. “I’ll tell you about it later. I really don’t get why River married her, sometimes I think it was just to fuck with us.”

“To fuck with her most likely.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know, but I like teasing you. So, this Catalina, she doesn’t get along with any of the Cabanas?

“No.”

“Not even with good-as-gold Hugo?”

Good-as-gold? Hugo? I love him to the moon and back but he’s the roughest of my brothers. I think Jaime has mixed him up with another one...

“Especially not with Hugo. She only does well with my parents. And sometimes with River.”

“Damn... Hey Pris, how long will it take us to get to that fucking bar you’re dragging me to?”

“Not long. And it’s not a bar, it’s a pub.”

“Shit, this town is made of slopes!”

“You’ll get used to it.”

“That, I doubt.”

When we finally hit the only Irish tavern in town, we sit down on the first couple of chairs we bump into. My heart is throbbing fast against my chest and I feel my legs burning; I tell myself that’s due to all the physical effort and hide behind the beer menu. I don’t feel like greeting anyone right now.

Soon the spasms from the walk pass and I start enjoying our destination, the smell of hops and wood, the dim light, the refreshing vibe that has always characterized this place. I used to love coming here. Their dark beer is the best, and they also have ice cream. Yes, ice cream and beer. Typical of little towns like mine, I guess.

Jaime goes up to the bar and orders a couple of cones, strawberry for him (yuck!) and cream for me (yum!).

Enjoying my ice cream and trying to recover my normal breathing, I scan the place. And that’s when I spot her. I guess the grimace on my face is so obvious even Jaime realizes something is wrong, despite how hard I’m trying to hide it.

“Who’s she?” he asks, pointing at the tall—and I mean enviably tall—redhead who’s playing at the pool table with some girls I might remember from the past.