Chapter 1
The taxi’s rearview mirror revealed enormous bags under Malena’s eyes. No amount of foundation had been able to cover them up. Well, what else could be expected after a ten-hour bus ride? Her night at the humble hotel she had found by the bus station had been anything but restful, with all that panting and moaning next door. It had taken all her might to lie on those coffee-stained sheets. She could have sworn she saw lice in there, too. She scratched her head. Who knew what kinds of germs inhabited that rickety mattress. Now that she thought about it, this cab looked like it hadn’t seen a feather duster in months either.
“Are we almost there?” she asked the taxi driver.
“Yes, Niña, almost.”
Malena reapplied her carmine lipstick, which she kept for special occasions, and squeezed a drop of almond oil onto the palm of her hand—not that she was excessively vain, she just needed something to do with her hands.
The town of San Isidro was larger than she’d expected. And she hadn’t expected much after nearly missing it on the map altogether. Nestled in a valley in the Andes Mountains, a gothic cathedral towered over hundreds of high, pitched roofs. Concrete balconies filled with red geraniums lined the narrow, winding streets. Behind the colonial houses, a majestic volcano rose over the town.
Had her father lived here, too? It would make sense. Where else could he have met her mother? The thought of him still brought a lump to her throat. But that was it, she refused to shed a single tear after what he had done. Not that she could cry, even if she wanted to. She’d wept so much after her grandmother had passed away—had it been ten years already?—that she seemed to have dried up inside, at least that was what her father used to say. (Once in a while, when you least expected it, Papá would say something insightful, something that made you think he was actually paying attention.)
A daunting cliff divided San Isidro in two, but a dangly bridge joined the two parts. Malena’s stomach seemed to float as the taxi crossed it, but the nonchalant driver whistled the entire way. They continued a few more blocks uphill until they reached a park surrounded by a green metal fence. A monument of a noble man or conquistador—she couldn’t tell who it was—overlooked a garden of blushing lilies. Lottery ticket vendors, ice cream carts, newspaper stands, and shoeshine boys filled the park. Malena wouldn’t have minded switching places with one of those carefree ladies enjoying the sunny morning on a bench.
This trip was insane. She still hadn’t thought about what she was going to say. She didn’t even know her mother’s name, for God’s sake. Who was she going to ask for? Mrs. A? Perhaps she had rushed too much when she took the first bus to San Isidro, but she was already here, wasn’t she? And now she had to discover who this mysterious woman was and why she’d given her away, preferably without leaving a trail of destruction and scandal in this little Sierra town.
The taxi turned into Calle Alameda and stopped in front of a whitewashed two-story house attached to a jewelry store. Above the glass door was a sign in black bold letters that read JOYERÍA PLATAS.
Her mother might live in this house. There was, of course, the possibility that she might have moved somewhere else, but what if she were here, at this very moment? Malena could be a few minutes away from meeting her. Seconds even. A tremor started in her gut and traveled all the way down her legs.
What if her mother didn’t want to see her?
“We’re here,” the driver said.
Malena paid for her fare and stepped out of the taxi. She moved slowly, as if prolonging the moment would give her the courage to ring the doorbell. But her courage left with the departing cab and she remained glued to the paving-stone sidewalk, squeezing her old leather purse. She stood in front of the jewelry store with only one thought in mind. Leave before it’s too late. Get out.
She forced her legs to cross the street and caught her reflection in the store’s glass door. Only now did she realize the miserable state of her grandmother’s wool suit—it was old-fashioned, faded, and two sizes too big for her. You would think she’d have bought a new outfit to meet her mother, but her father had left her nearly destitute.
She adjusted her pink headband. Maybe she should go back to the hotel and think about this some more. Do something about those worn-out shoes of hers. She turned to leave, but a male voice stopped her.
“Are you lost?”
The owner of that deep, raspy voice was a young man holding the door open. His eyes—somewhere between green and gray—seemed to be smiling at her. He was just a notch taller than her and a few chest hairs escaped the top of his collar.
“I’m looking for someone,” she said. “Mrs. … Platas?”
“Ana Platas?”
Great, an A name.
“Yes,” she said.
He examined her as if she were an art piece at a museum. “You must be Liliana Paz.”
Liliana?
“I thought you looked familiar,” he said. “Though you probably don’t remember me. We were so small when we met.”
“No, I’m—”
“Javier!” A man’s voice came from inside the store.
“I’ll be right there!” He returned his attention to Malena. “I’m Ana’s son, Javier.”
Her son.
Javier smiled and a pair of dimples—identical to hers—framed both of his cheeks. This could be her brother.
“Come on in. My mother has been waiting for you since yesterday.”
Malena peeked inside the store, but couldn’t distinguish any shapes through the glare in the glass. She was about to clarify the mix-up, to say her name, but something stopped her. This moment of confusion could be a way in. If she came as Malena, she risked being turned away without ever being able to talk to Ana. This was a delicate matter, after all; she couldn’t just blurt out to her son: “Maybe I am your mother’s daughter?”
No, she must speak to this woman first, in private.
Javier opened the door wider. From the back of the store came a man who stopped behind a U-shaped glass counter filled with silver jewelry.
“There you are,” he told Javier.
“Papá, Liliana is here.”
The man looked at Malena. His face was pale, his nose slightly crooked. A mustache framed his upper lip and his hair was slicked back. He could pass for a thin man were it not for the paunch extending over his belt.
“Welcome, Señorita. I’m Rafael Dávila, Ana’s husband.” They shook hands. Not once did he smile.
“She’s waiting for you in the house,” Javier told her. “Follow me.”
Javier led her into a sterile room furnished with a desk, a chair, and a metal vault. Her heels echoed behind him into a hallway with two shut doors. A frog seemed to be hopping inside her stomach. From one of the doors came the muffled noise of a drill. Javier pointed at yet another door at the end of the hall.
“That’s the door to the house.”
Her pulse raced as though she’d run a kilometer. What if they discovered she was not Liliana? It would be so humiliating. Plus, she was not prepared to meet her alleged mother yet. She hadn’t decided what she was going to tell her. God, please make her happy to see me.
He opened the door.
“Madre, someone’s here to see you!”
Malena followed Javier into a spacious living room with a grand mahogany piano and a chimney. Two women sat on an off-white couch, needlework in hand, while a third one sat on a rocking chair across from them.
The woman in the chair set her embroidery on the coffee table and stood.
“Lili?” She approached her. This must be Ana. “It’s so nice to finally have you here.” The woman raised her hand to adjust her spectacles. The sleeve of her dress pulled back and exposed a purple and yellow patch wrapping her wrist like a bracelet. Was that a bruise? She glanced at Malena before hastily covering her arm with her maroon shawl. “Don’t you remember me? I’m Ana Luisa.”
Malena remained stiff as Ana hugged her. For years, she’d longed to have her mother this close. She wanted to hug her back, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. This woman was a stranger, after all. She examined Ana’s features behind her glasses. Her eyelashes were long. Her eyebrows had a decent shape, though they could use some tweezing. Fine lines emerged from the corner of her eyes, but she was younger than she appeared from afar, and not bad looking. Without the glasses and the scarce gray hairs in her bouffant, she would be much more attractive.
“This is my older sister, Amanda, and my daughter, Claudia.” She pointed at the women on the couch. “You probably don’t remember them either. You were just a toddler when we last saw you.”
Wait. Did she say Amanda?
The older sister stood up and gave Malena a kiss on the cheek, leaving a sweet scent of gardenia in the air.
Amanda didn’t look older than Ana. And she didn’t look much like her either. This woman exuded elegance through every pore of her body. Not a hair out of place or a wrinkle in her exquisite cream-colored suit. Her makeup was impeccable and her legs enviable.
Amanda and Ana. One of these two women had to be her mother.
“I wouldn’t have recognized you,” Amanda said. “It’s amazing how much you’ve changed. I didn’t remember you having curly hair.”
It had to be her Medusa hair that would ruin everything! Malena searched for something in Amanda’s appearance that would resemble herself, but this woman was worlds apart from her, in style and confidence.
Ana turned to the young woman named Claudia.
“Aren’t you going to say something?”
Claudia adjusted the golden cross on her necklace and stood up, examining Malena through a pair of blue eyes, the bluest she had ever seen. Her hair was up in a ponytail and a pair of pearl earrings dangled from her ears. Claudia flattened the creases on her skirt and extended her hand.
“Welcome,” she said.
Malena held Claudia’s frail hand in hers. She reminded her of a porcelain figurine—like anything could break her petite frame—a younger version of Ana in demeanor and coloring but without the glasses.
“Have a seat, please.” Ana pointed at the couch. “Javi, could you bring Liliana’s luggage inside?”
“Sure. Where is it?” Javier asked Malena.
Luggage? So this Lili person was staying here. Malena wanted to scream the truth. But if only Ana’s children weren’t here. They probably didn’t know what her mother had done (and certainly Ana wouldn’t want them to). And what if Amanda was her mother? She’d probably hid it from the family. It was obvious that Malena was someone’s secret. If she blurted out her suspicions, her mother—whomever she might be—may never forgive her.
They all watched her. She had to say something, anything.
“I accidentally left it on the bus,” Malena said.
“You mean the train?” Ana said.
So Liliana lived far, maybe further than Guayaquil. “Yes. The train.”
Ana frowned. “How did that happen?”
Of course she would be frowning, only an idiot would forget her valise on the train! Malena looked at Javier and remembered what he’d said about expecting Liliana the previous day.
“It’s very foolish, really. I stepped out at one of the train stops and lost track of time. The train left without me, and my valise was in there, so I had to wait for another train and travel all night. That’s why I’m late.”
“You poor thing,” Ana said. “Did you tell someone at the station?”
Malena caught Amanda watching her in silence. She knows I’m lying.
“Yes, but they couldn’t find it.” Malena said. “I’m supposed to go back later today.”
“Great.” She nodded toward her son. “Javier can take you.”
“Of course,” he said.
Malena avoided the inquisitive looks upon her. She had to get out. She needed time to think about what she was going to do. “May I use the lavatory?”
“Sure, hija.” Ana stood up. “Come this way.”
Malena followed Ana to a bleach-smelling bathroom beside the staircase and locked herself inside. Like the living room, the lavatory was spotless. She approached the sink and splashed her cheeks with cold water.
What was she doing here? This was not at all what she’d expected. She ought to just go out there and say who she was, demand that these women tell her if one of them was her mother. She washed her hands and ran her fingers over the veins in her milky wrists, thinking about Ana’s bruises and what could have caused them. A fall? But there would be no reason to hide them or get so nervous then. Had someone done this to her?
Her husband?
If it had been him, who knew what he would do if he found out his wife had a daughter with another man—given that Ana might be her mother. Malena couldn’t just come out and announce to the entire family who she was. Ana might not even admit to it. She might just send her away.
Things started to make sense now. Ana could have been unfaithful with Malena’s father. But what about her sister? Her name also started with an A.
She squeezed the towel. What was she going to do? They could catch on to her any minute, but she didn’t have many options. She could confess who she was and risk being thrown out without an explanation, perhaps even cause a terrible feud. Or she could play along until she could be alone with the sisters. This confusion could buy her some time.
“Are you okay, Liliana?” Ana asked from behind the door.
She had to make a decision. Now.
“Yes.”
Malena flushed the toilet and opened the door. Gently, Ana pulled her by the arm in the direction of the front door.
Oh, no, she knew. She was throwing her out.
“I know your secret,” Ana whispered. “But don’t you worry. Only Amanda and I know, and she’s very discreet.” She held Malena’s hand. “María Teresa told me about that … unfortunate incident back in San Vicente. I was young once. I understand these things can happen. I just want to ask you not to talk about this with anyone, especially with my Claudia. She’s very innocent.”
Malena nodded, too confused to say anything. San Vicente was in Manabi, a province north of Guayaquil. And whatever this Liliana had done was apparently serious.
“Now come with me,” Ana said. “I’m going to show you around the house.”
Ana turned around before Malena had a chance to say anything. She followed the older woman up a varnished staircase. A glimmering chandelier hanging from the ceiling caught her eye—she’d never seen one of those outside a movie screen.
Claudia stood atop the stairs, waiting for them. Behind her was a long hallway with doors on both sides. The hall curved to the right. Ana, holding Malena’s arm, opened the first door.
“This is Claudia’s room,” she said. “You will stay with her.”
Malena and Claudia followed Ana inside the bright room. There were two beds separated by a night table and a wooden cross hung above one of the beds.
“Oh, I don’t want to impose,” Malena told Claudia.
“I don’t mind.” Claudia touched the golden cross on her chest. “It’s my duty.”
They held each other’s stare for a moment, but Malena couldn’t read anything in Claudia’s serene expression.
“Claudia is the best roommate you could ask for,” Ana said. “She’s clean, quiet, and respectful.”
Claudia lowered her head in apparent humility.
“Hija,” Ana said. “Why don’t you pick a dress for Lili to change into?”
“No, no. That won’t be necessary,” Malena said.
“I’m sure Claudia won’t mind.”
Claudia ran her fingers over a jewelry box on the vanity table. “Of course not, Mamita. Liliana can have anything she wants.”
Things were getting out of hand. If only there were fewer people in this place!
Amanda joined them in Claudia’s bedroom. “So what do you think of the house, Lili?”
“It’s great, you’re all great.”
“Isn’t she sweet? Just like her mother,” Ana said.
Of course Ana was talking about Liliana’s mother, whoever that might be, but Malena glanced at both sisters.
Ana pushed her glasses up with the tip of her index finger. “I was asking Claudia to lend Liliana one of her dresses.”
Amanda’s laughter disrupted their hushed conversation.
“What’s so funny?” Ana asked.
“You’re crazy if you think Claudia’s dresses would fit Lili. Look at her bosom!”
Malena couldn’t believe Amanda had said that aloud! And in front of her! She eyed the handwoven rug under her feet.
“Amanda, please …” Ana said.
“Come with me,” Amanda told Malena. “I have some dresses that may fit you.”
Malena folded her arms across her monstrous chest and followed Amanda down the hall. She noticed then that Amanda walked with a slight limp.
If Claudia’s room had been simple and plain, Amanda’s was the exact opposite. A large bed with a purple bedspread, matching cushions, and a tulle canopy took most of the space. A full-length mirror sat near the window.
Amanda opened an armoire in the corner of the room and looked through her blouses. “I have the same problem trying to fit into dresses.”
Malena searched for a wedding photograph or something in the room that would tell her about Amanda, but aside from a photograph of Carlos Gardel—the tango king—there was nothing.
“So you live here, with your sister’s family?” Malena said.
“Yes. But it’s not their house,” Amanda said. “It’s my mother’s. Ana’s husband has managed the family business since my father passed away.”
“And you’re not married?”
“I’m a widow.”
Amanda watched her for moment. Her examination made her nervous.
“So you like the tango.” Malena pointed at Gardel’s portrait. “My father does … did, too.” She had no idea if Liliana’s father was dead or alive, but she hoped Amanda wouldn’t notice her hesitation. Why had she even brought up her father?
“Of course. Old people like us love the tango.”
“You’re not old.” She wrapped her hand around the bed pole. This was her chance. “Amanda, I need to ask you something.”
“Sorry, querida. I’m not telling you my age.”
“It’s not that.”
“I know what you’re going to say. Ana talked to me about it. Don’t worry. I won’t say anything about that man. I promise.” Amanda returned her attention to her packed armoire. “Young people make mistakes. You shouldn’t feel too bad about it.”
“No, listen …”
“You don’t have to justify yourself to me.” Amanda handed her two shirtwaist dresses and a beige coat. “Here, try these on, and hurry because I want you to meet my mother. She had a little episode with her arrhythmia this morning, but I think she’s awake now.”
Arrhythmia? From what little Malena had learned about medicine, she knew that condition had to do with irregular heart rhythms, or something like that.
“I’m sure they’ll fit.” Malena just wanted to talk to the sisters, not try their clothes on.
“I apologize. I forget you young women are shy about your bodies.” Amanda wrapped her fingers around Malena’s arm. “Just leave those here and come with me.”
The two of them entered the first room around the corner. The curtains were drawn, but it was bright enough to see an old woman sitting on the bed with a rosary in her hands. The room was larger than Claudia’s or Amanda’s. A lingering scent of medicine and old furniture reminded Malena of her grandmother, Eva.
“Mamá,” Amanda said. “Someone’s here to meet you.”
The woman lifted her head. Her hair was reminiscent of a cotton ball and wrinkles grew like spider’s legs from the corner of her eye to her temples. She looked so fragile.
“This is María Teresa’s daughter, Lili,” Amanda said. “Remember we told you she was coming? She’s going to stay with us for a while.”
The woman didn’t blink. “Come here, child, so I can see you better.”
Malena approached the bed and extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Señora.”
“Call me Mamá Blanca.” The woman watched Malena’s every move. “You remind me so much of …” Her eyes moistened a bit and her gaze drifted away from Malena to a fixed spot in the wall for a few seconds. Then, she sat up as straight as her crooked back allowed her. “How is your mother? I haven’t seen her since she got married and moved to Manabi.”
Malena shrugged. “Fine. I guess.”
Ana walked into the room. “Oh, here you are,” she told Malena. “Please join us downstairs. Lunch is served.”
Goodness, now she had to have lunch with the entire family. Well, she needed to eat at some point. She hadn’t had any breakfast and her stomach was silently protesting.
“I’ll have Trinidad bring you your lunch, Mamá,” Ana told her mother.
“Oh, no. I’m not eating in my bedroom as though I was some decrepit mummy. As long as my legs work, I’m eating downstairs, with the rest of the family.”
The exquisite aroma of hornado welcomed Malena to the dining room, where the family had already gathered around an oval table. A replica of Da Vinci’s Last Supper hung on the back wall and a side window revealed a Spanish-style courtyard outside.
On the center of the table sat a long tray of sliced pork surrounded by hominy, fried plantains, sliced avocados, and potato patties. A lanky woman with a lengthy braid and a light blue uniform greeted Malena.
“Liliana, this is Trinidad,” Ana said. “She’s been with us for twenty years.”
“Twenty-seven, Niña Ana.” Trinidad wiped her hands on an apron as white as the snow at the tip of the Cotopaxi volcano before disappearing through a swinging door.
After twenty-seven years, the maid ought to know something about the family. If the Platas sisters weren’t willing to talk, maybe the maid would.
Ana’s husband, Rafael, and Mamá Blanca sat at either end of the table. Malena scrutinized Rafael’s face, as though something in his features would reveal if this man was capable of hitting a woman. Javier dragged his chair away from the table to sit down, scraping its legs against the floor with a deafening squeal. All the women in the room protested. Javier smirked. Amanda ruffled her nephew’s hair and sat beside him while Ana instructed Malena to sit next to Claudia.
One empty space remained.
“Where’s Alejandra?” Mamá Blanca asked.
“She’s coming,” Javier said.
Malena couldn’t hold her tongue. “Who’s Alejandra?”
“Didn’t María Teresa tell you about us?” Amanda said. “She’s our younger sister.”
Good God, another A. Was this some kind of joke?
“Let’s begin,” Rafael said. “Alejandra knows our schedule.”
All eyes set on Claudia, who made the sign of the cross and intertwined her fingers together. Before she could say a word, Javier took a monumental bite of pork.
She scowled. “Is it too much to ask for you to wait until I say grace before you start eating?”
Javier picked up another piece of meat and shoved it in his mouth, watching his sister as he chewed.
“Oh, that’s beautiful, Javier!” Claudia grimaced. “You can’t even mind your manners when we have company?”
Javier’s sole response was a wink for Malena.
Claudia turned to her mother. “Mamita …” But Ana was smiling at her son.
“That’s enough, Javier,” Rafael said. “Continue, Claudia.”
“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost—”
“Look who’s honoring us with her presence!” Rafael said to someone behind Malena. “You’re only five minutes late today.”
Malena glanced over her shoulder. A thin woman stood on the threshold. But this was no ordinary woman. She wore blue jeans and an oversized black shirt. Malena was by no means the fashion authority, but she would never be caught wearing pants in public. Wiping her hands on her trousers, the woman took a seat by Mamá Blanca.
“Don’t mind him,” Mamá Blanca told her.
Ana unfolded her napkin and placed it on her lap. “Alejandra, this is Liliana Paz.”
Alejandra looked up, but didn’t say a word.
“Nice to meet you,” Malena said, although the shock of meeting another possible mother was anything but nice.
“Continue, hija,” Ana told Claudia.
Claudia said grace in a soft voice. All eyes were fastened onto the feast they were about to enjoy. Malena studied Alejandra discreetly. She looked young, perhaps too young to be her mother. She had short hair and no makeup on. Her features were delicate, too feminine for her attire. Dressed properly, she might have been as beautiful as Amanda. Her nails were short, her fingers long and not fully clean. Patches of paint were scattered throughout her hands. An artist. Malena looked at her face and flinched. Alejandra was staring at her.
Malena glanced at Amanda and then Ana. People often said this kind of thing was intuitive. She should just know who her mother was, feel it somehow. Well, her intuition wasn’t working properly. None of these women were anything like she’d imagined her mother—the nurse—to be. In her mind, her mother had been as warm and self-assured as the Mona Lisa. But all of these women were too human, too imperfect. Even Amanda, who was gorgeous and poised, didn’t seem motherly enough.
“Amen,” Javier interrupted Claudia’s prolonged prayer. He lifted the pork tray and offered some to Malena. Then he picked a large piece for himself with his hand.
“Por Dios, Javier! Teaching you etiquette is harder than having a gorilla sip tea from a cup!” Claudia said.
“Liliana,” Ana said in a loud voice, glaring at Claudia and Javier. “How is Don Hernán doing?”
The room turned hot. Who could this be? Lili’s father, maybe? She ran her finger up and down her glass.
“Fine,” she guessed.
Everyone was silent.
“That’s strange,” Ana said after a moment. “María Teresa said the doctor only gave him a few weeks.”
Malena took a long sip of water, wishing it were something stronger. “Well, considering his … condition, he seems to be doing better.”
Silence returned to the room, and she didn’t know whether it was good or bad. She had to do something. She concealed her eyes with her hand, pretending to cry.
Ana held her hand. “I’m sorry, hija, I didn’t know you were so fond of the foreman.”
Malena blew her nose with her paper napkin, a gesture that apparently offended Claudia, judging by her wrinkled nose.
“That’s life in the country for you.” Rafael added more salsa agria to his pork. “If they would have taken him to Quito or Guayaquil, he would have been cured for sure.”
“Some illnesses are incurable.” Amanda poured Pilsener beer into her glass. “No matter where you get treated.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Amanda. I know the country.” Rafael said. “It takes days for a doctor to show up. And if you’re lucky, they take you to a dispensary to get treated by a resident with expired medication.” He waved his index finger at Malena. “I always thought it was a mistake for your parents to move to the middle of nowhere. The country is only for cows and uneducated fools.”
Malena was oddly offended for María Teresa and Liliana.
“You didn’t say that when you inherited your uncle’s ranch,” Amanda snapped.
Rafael set his glass on the table, glaring at Amanda.
“Is that all you’re having?” Mamá Blanca asked Alejandra. “You’re so thin you’re going to disappear any day now.”
Alejandra smoothed her napkin over her lap. “Can’t I eat in peace?”
“Better too thin than too fat,” Amanda said.
“Mamá Blanca just wants what’s best for Alejandra,” Ana said.
“No man is going to look at her with those thin legs!” the older woman said.
Alejandra tossed her napkin on her plate. “I lost my appetite.”
Nobody spoke until the youngest sister left the room. What a strange group of people. So hostile to one another. They had no idea how lucky they were to have each other. Malena would have given anything to grow up in a large family such as this one. Ironically, these strangers were her family and one of these three women, her mother.
“When are you going to stop harassing her, Mamá?” Amanda said. “She’s never going to get married.”
“Of course not,” Rafael agreed with Amanda for once. “She’s nearly forty. She’ll always be a solterona. Speaking of that, Claudia, when is that boyfriend of yours going to propose? He’s cancelled the engagement party twice already.”
“What did you expect?” Amanda was already on her second glass of beer. “Sebastian’s father was dying. He couldn’t possibly have had a head for engagements.”
“If you don’t mind, I was talking to my daughter.” Rafael turned to Claudia. “I don’t like long engagements nor do I want another old maid in the family. At your age, you should’ve already given me two or three grandsons.”
“Claudia is only twenty-one!” Amanda said.
Claudia blushed.
“Can’t we have a pleasant conversation for once?” Ana said. “Lili is going to wish she never came to San Isidro.”
Malena hoped it didn’t come to that, but this trip might not end so well after all. As harsh as these people were, they would have no qualms in telling her to leave and never come back once they found out who she really was. And who knew what Rafael would do to Ana then.