I came downstairs to find Dario and Willa facing off on opposite sides of the kitchen island, not saying a word to each other across air as thick as cold bacon fat.
“Dario,” I say in a voice barely louder than a whisper. “This was your solution to the problem?”
“Yes.” He doesn’t look at me.
Blood pounds in my ears. My vision gets dark in the corners. If I don’t say what I need to say right now, I’m going to faint or worse… lose my nerve.
“I don’t want to go.”
Suddenly, four eyes are looking straight at me.
“What?” Dario asks.
In the background of the noise in my ears, Willa laughs.
“I want to stay with you.”
“Oh, honey, this man isn’t letting you out of his sight. It would be cute if it wasn’t so vaguely threatening.”
My eyes meet Dario’s for confirmation.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he says.
The thrumming in my ears stops and my vision clears. A little nervous laugh is released from my throat.
“Good, okay,” I say, clapping my hands. “Nice to see you, Willa.” I fill the teapot. “Did you want coffee?”
“I’m all set.”
“Dario? How about you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Good.” I turn on the magic burner, because I want tea, and what I want is enough. “Willa, have you seen this? It heats the water but doesn’t get hot.”
“That’s called an induction burner, honey. It uses magnetic—”
“Oh!” I interrupt with excitement. “Dafne started…”
…teaching me about magnetic fields, but now she’s…
“I’m just going to make some tea.” I finish with a dumb narration to fill the hole that the video of my teacher opened. “If you change your mind, just say.”
“Willa’s here to get you started,” Dario says. “She’s not taking you to St. Easy or anywhere.”
“Good,” I say, reaching for the teabags. “I was going to try to figure out the second oven.”
“It’s a warming drawer.” She slides open a hidden panel under the lip of the countertop and I bend with her to look at it. “Keeps dinner warm if your husband’s going to be late.”
“Oh.” I stand straight—tea canister in one hand and the lid in the other—look at Dario, then Willa. “Was this house for you guys? Together?”
Willa laughs. Dario is not amused.
“This was a bad idea.” He jabs his finger at Willa. “You’re going to confuse her.”
Willa and I answer at the same time.
“No, I’m not.”
“No, she’s not.”
We smile at each other. I lay down the canister and get myself a cup.
“You’re right,” she says. “This house was supposed to be for Dario, Rosemarie, and me, but I took her with me to set up St. Easy, and well… she never came back.”
The teapot whistles.
“It’s fine,” I try to reassure them both.
Willa and Dario get into a staring contest again. If eyes could shoot daggers, I’d be scrubbing blood off the white kitchen tiles. And yet, Dario still trusts her. That much is clear.
“I’m glad you’re here, Willa.” I say her name to get her attention back on me. “After you show me around the kitchen, I’d like to learn how to drive a car, please.”
“Untapped ambition.” Willa shakes her head as if I amuse her. “Every one of you Colonia women is a stark-raving-go-getter.”
“You won’t have to coddle her,” Dario says. “She catches on quick.”
My cheeks may be hot from the boiling water I’m pouring, or from the way Dario’s dancing with complimenting me to Willa.
“Do you catch on quick, Sarah?” she asks.
“Depends.”
“Willa,” Dario says, trying to sound nonchalant and failing. “Go to my lawyer’s office and get some divorce papers drawn up, would you? Take Sarah. Show her the ropes.”
“Of getting a divorce?” Willa smirks.
“Never.” His fake coldness turns real hot, but her amusement does not melt.
“After she has her tea.” Willa leans toward Dario on her elbows. “I’ll show her the ropes. You can go.”
With a flick of her wrist, Dario is dismissed.
It takes Willa hours to show me all the buttons in the house, because she doesn’t just show me what happens when I press them. They all connect to the internet, and though I know what that is, I have little experience using it, and I certainly had no idea appliances could talk to it.
The Colonia only buy things with cash, so she shows me a checking account and credit card bill with a single transaction, so I don’t get confused.
Then she tells me we’re going to the lawyers, where she’ll divorce my husband.
Benny brings her little brown sports car around. It says Jaguar on the side and in the front, a silver jaguar leaping off the end of the front hood. I wait for someone to open the passenger side, but Benny is nowhere to be seen and Willa crosses to her side, spinning her keyring around her thumb.
“It’s unlocked.” She opens her own door. “Go on.”
I’ve seen car door handles before, but not one with a button. I slip my fingers behind the handle and pull. Nothing happens. I look at Willa. She’s not giving any hints.
When I push the button with my thumb, it opens. We get into the two-seater. I click my seatbelt and smile. The things I know already are as much of a victory as the things I learn.
“All right,” she says, pulling out of the gate. “This is how it’s going to go. You aren’t married to him.”
“I’m not, actually.”
“Good girl.” Her hands rest comfortably on the wheel, and she manages the pedals as if she’s walking—unaware of how special she is. “Let me do the talking. We got married for bullshit reasons, and we’ll get divorced for the same.”
“When do I learn to drive?”
“Let’s see.” She pulls into a parking spot. “Switch.”
“Wait, what?”
“I get out and sit there and you get behind the wheel.”
She puts her hand on the door handle as if she’s ready to get out, and I’m supposed to do the same. We’ll leave the car, then get back in on opposite sides. It’s obvious and it’s not a big deal because everyone drives.
But I’m frozen in place, eyes so wide they ache, heart racing so fast it feels as still and heavy as stone. I don’t want to disappoint her, but I cannot move.
“Right,” she says with the conviction of a woman whose worst suspicions have been confirmed. “When you don’t have that particular look on your face, you’ll learn to drive.”
She pulls out of the spot, and I look forward with my jaw tight.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” she says. “Watch what I do, and it won’t be so scary.”
I watch the dance of her feet and hands. Where she looks and what she does.
“Getting a divorce,” I say. “Is it hard?”
“Shouldn’t be. There’s a waiting period, then we’re done.”
“Then he’s mine?”
“All yours, if you still want him.”
I do. I am sure I do. Even after I can drive a car and go wherever I want, I will still want him.
Willa doesn’t seem as sure.