Page 96 of That Last Summer

2012

In the summer of 2012—sixteen years after they saw each other for the first time through the wooden panels of the swimming pool fence—Alex and Priscila got married.

Sixteen years after that first bump! in Priscila’s heart; that first dismissive gesture from Alex. Proof that first impressions are not always the right ones...

And right after Alex won his second Olympic medal. The 2012 games were a great success for him as an athlete.

The night before the wedding—a simple ceremony to be held in the town’s church and followed by a meal beside the famous swimming pool, at the bride’s request—Alex and Priscila were sitting placidly on the edge of the aforementioned pool, jeans rolled up, feet in the water, relaxed but nervous at the same time.

They’d just come from the pub, where they’d been toasting with family and friends, the evening peppered with the hits of the moment: “Yo te esperaré,” by Cali y el Dandee; David Guetta’s “Titanium.” A pre-wedding party, they called it—and they’d already had their fill of smiling at every person who came to greet them with the usual congratulations. After all, even though they pretended it was an intimate family event, the whole town knew about it, and the Irish tavern was a public space. It was full of curious onlookers, just like it was on its opening day in that distant summer of 2004.

But now they were alone in the silence of their neighborhood, celebrating their last night as singles the way they really wanted to: kissing like teenagers and exchanging knowing looks, thinking this would be the last night they would have to be apart. Alex held his future wife by the chin and brought her face close to his for a kiss. He laid her on her back on the pink tiles and the clothes fell away until there was nothing left between them but skin. Just their naked bodies and a blanket of stars covering them, shining stars that Priscila glimpsed between kisses and moans.

They spent the night separately, each at their own home as tradition dictated, although they didn’t do it for that reason. Priscila wanted to spend those last single hours with her brothers who, by the way, had been missing in action for months. Priscila had no idea what they were up to, but something was going on. And she would find out. She knew Marcos would spill the beans as soon as she pressed him.

They had planned to sleep in Priscila’s bedroom, all of them, fitting as best they could; even River, who was already married, had decided to give the day to his little sister.

When she arrived home after saying goodbye to Alex and went to her bedroom, her four brothers were waiting for her there, sitting on her bed playing video games. Despite the huge dinosaurs pacing at ease in her stomach, she sat there with them and fell asleep right away.

The ceremony was beautiful and emotional, although it was hot as hell—it was at six in the evening and the sun was still blazing down. Alex appeared, by surprise, with a bow tie instead of a regular tie; he knew that, and the suspenders he was wearing, would drive his favorite girl in the world crazy.

Priscila entered the church in a simple ankle-length white evening gown that had Alex’s skin pebbling with goosebumps. She wore her hair down, loose and wavy, and her husband-to-be thought she was the most beautiful bride the universe would ever see.

“You’re wearing a bow tie.” That was the first thing Priscila said to her neighbor, her eyes reddening with unshed tears of happiness, when she saw him there.

“We are wearing bow ties,” he said.

Priscila looked around until she discovered Dark—wearing an identical bow tie—in Hugo’s arms, tail swinging.

They shared vows, kisses, looks, tears, smiles, hugs, and arrived at their neighborhood in a yellow Seat 600 with balloons tied to the back. Alex and Priscila were amazed to see what their families had set up at the pool. The water was covered with rose petals and oak leaves, lights strung from side to side, tied to lampposts and palm tree branches. The hammocks were gone, the pool surrounded instead by round tables with white tablecloths and centerpieces of red flowers and scented candles. It was beautiful.

As soon as the guests saw the newlyweds coming, “I Will Survive” started blaring through the two loudspeakers they’d set up. Of course.

Alex didn’t hesitate—he took his wife’s hand and began to move to the rhythm of the song, a huge smile on his face. They danced together around the tables with everybody looking on, and were so happy no one would’ve guessed how many arguments and headaches this wedding had caused. Because if the news about the wedding had been received warily by the Cabanas, Alex’s family’s reaction had not been far behind.

When they sat down to dinner, Alex and Priscila barely ate; they were too captivated by each other, gazing and holding hands under the table.

When they brought out the cake, Alex roared with laughter. It was shaped like an Olympic swimming pool, courtesy of his wife, of course. They cut it, toasted, and danced once again—to another Priscilla, Queen of the Desert song, as it happens.

It was a great evening, and what was still to come...

Priscila didn’t know where they were spending their wedding night; it was going to be a surprise, from Alex. They said goodbye to everyone and left the party amid more toasting and dancing, got into the Seat 600 and headed towards... mystery.

Alex couldn’t take his eyes off his wife as he drove. He was nervous. What if she thought this was a bit rushed?

They climbed another of the town’s slopes, leaving civilization behind. Priscila didn’t understand where they were heading; this area was all family homes. They came to a large metal gate, tall as two people standing one atop the other, and Alex stopped the car.

“What are we doing here?” Priscila asked, frowning.

“Wait.”

Alex pulled a small remote from the glove compartment and pressed the button. The gate opened to Priscila’s puzzled look and they drove through, straight into a garage at the back right. Confused as she was, she didn’t notice Alex was already out of the car and opening her door. Dark stepped out, the second to do so.

“Are you coming?” Alex asked.

“Where are we?”

“This is our house. Yours and mine. Come on.”