The whole time, Patricia texted me cheerful updates. Photos of the beach. Margaritas by the pool. Wish you were here, mi amor. Hope Sofia is behaving.
I wrote back, Can’t wait to see you Sunday.
It was the hardest lie I’ve ever told.
Part Four: The Table Set for Five
On Sunday afternoon, I cooked.
I made Ana’s mole recipe, the one Sofia loved, and set the dining table with the good plates. Sofia helped me, nervous but steady. When I put her plate at the place right beside mine, she looked at me.
“They won’t like that.”
“I know,” I said. “Sit there anyway.”
At four-thirty, a taxi van pulled into the driveway. I heard them before I saw them. Suitcases rolling. Bianca complaining about the heat. Elvira’s sharp voice telling the driver to be careful with her bags.
Patricia came through the door first, sunburned and smiling, wearing a straw hat. She stopped when she saw me.
