David
At two in the afternoon, I posted the photo Margot had sent me on my Instagram account and waited with my phone in hand for Idoia to show signs of life (and of interest). But after checking my phone every five minutes for a while, I finally got sick of it.
“This isn’t love,” crooned Domi, who had the day off and was finishing up making some yuca balls, a specialty from her country.
“It’s called courtship, woman of little faith,” I retorted.
Ada screamed from her baby bouncer, and I went over to scoop her up. Her mother gave me a stern look because she insisted her daughter would never learn to self-soothe if we picked her up all the time.
“Domi, I’m thinking I’m going to wait twenty years and just marry your daughter.”
“Over my dead body.”
I burst out laughing and went over to the tiny kitchen.
“First of all, I’m offended by how grossed out you are, and, second, it’s obviously a joke. I love Ada like she was my niece.”
“I’m not grossed out. It’s just that…” She looked at me and smiled. “You’re one of those guys, and that’s not what I want for my daughter.”
“What guys?”
“Ay, David, the kind who feel too much.”
My phone started to buzz on the table, a stream of messages coming in, and I ran over to it with Ada in my arms. The sudden movement made her giggle.
“See, Domi? It’s gotta be her! This is going great. You should buy a wedding hat because in twenty years, we’re getting married.”
Ada tried to grab my phone when I picked it up, but I kept it out of her reach. It was Margot.
I saw your photo on Instagram and when I read the caption I thought: “Margot, the student has surpassed the master.” I bow down to you. Now she’s gonna think you have an amazing life without her. But if she doesn’t text you today, don’t worry. Some people boil over from a slow burn.
“Is it her?”
“No. It’s just Margot gassing me up.”
“Where did this Margot come from? You talk about her a lot.”
“I met her at the club.” I kissed Ada and popped her back in her bouncer. “You’d like her. She’s a very strange girl, but not in a bad way.”
“Your ‘she’s a very strange girl’ scares me.”
“No way.” I said absentmindedly as I tried to focus on answering Margot’s message.
“Well, you smile a lot when you talk about her.”
“Yeah, because she cracks me up.”
What am I going to do without you when you’re on vacation?
My sensei. And, more importantly, what are you going to do without my sage advice?
“Why don’t you invite her over for lunch?”
“What?” I asked, seeing that Margot was typing.
“I said, ‘Why don’t you invite her over for lunch?’ There’s plenty of food.”
“Today? It’s pretty late notice.”
“But I have work tomorrow.”
“On Sunday?”
“They changed my shift.”
Dominique was studying to be a nurse and simultaneously working in an old folks’ home, where she worked as a nurse’s aide.
“Well, she’s not going to be able to,” I insisted.
“What about Monday for dinner?”
I looked up from my phone, puzzled, waiting for her to explain why she was so into this idea, but she pretended not to see me.
“Why are you so hyped about this?”
“I want to meet her. You never introduce us to your friends.”
“You know all my friends. You’re practically part of the crew I’ve known my whole life, Domi.”
“You never introduce us to your girlfriends.” She raised her eyebrows with a little smirk.
My phone vibrated in my hands, but I ignored it for a second.
“Margot is not the kind of friend you’re insinuating.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Yeah, right, yes. I don’t get involved with all my friends, you know?”
“I know. There are at least three girls in the crew who would pay you to.”
I brushed her off with a gesture, but she tried again.
“Tell her to come for dinner, go on. I’ll make chicharrones and mangu.”
“Oh my god.”
I looked at my phone, ready to formally invite Margot, but I was thrown off by her message.
Margot
Well, I think I’ll be fine without your sage advice because…(drum roll) Filippo texted me last night. He said he missed me and that he hopes I’M ON VACATION too and that he hopes at the end of the summer we’re ON THE SAME PAGE. Oh yeah.
David
You’re back together already? That’s not gonna work! The motor that drives this advisory relationship is reciprocity. Now you’re going to give me lazy advice because you’ll be too busy giving him all your love. And I’ll be here dying alone surrounded by rats.
Margot
It’s supposed to be “dying alone surrounded by cats,” isn’t it?
David
Cats are too cute. I wouldn’t mind dying along surrounded by cats. But watch out for rats or pigeons…Sad endings follow wherever they are.
Margot
Don’t be dramatic. We didn’t get back together. We just…opened a window to reconciliation.
David
You already had a window open to reconciliation, and it was the size of Bernabéu Stadium.
Margot
Be happy for me!
David
No, I am happy for you. I’m just dying of jealousy. I want Idoia to text something like that to me too. Something like: “I saw your hot ass on Instagram and I thought, ‘What am I doing with my life if I’m not digging my nails into that dude’s butt?’”
Margot
Seriously, you have to explain to me how you hooked up with her because, from the little I know about her, I swear I don’t get it.
David
Well, actually I was going to make you an offer… Do you want to come over to have dinner on Monday? Domi really wants to meet you and she has the night off. She says she can make chicharrones and mangu, which you won’t understand and I’m not going to explain them. All I can tell you is it’s my wet dream and my favorite sexual position, all on the same plate. I dream about eating it all the time. If you don’t come, she won’t make it. So up to you. No pressure.
I stared at my phone. Margot wasn’t typing, but she was still online.
“I think I went too far asking her to come over for dinner,” I said to Dominique.
“Why, you twit?”
“For someone who’s lived in Spain for twenty years, sometimes you talk funny,” I teased her gently, like I always did when she repeated some expression she had heard her mother say all the time. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s too soon. I said it, and suddenly she stopped answering, but she didn’t sign off or anything. She’s just frozen.”
“You sure she doesn’t like you, David, my love?”
“No! She’s trying to get her fiancé back. They almost got married…” But I shut myself up before I said anything that would allude to her dipping out on her wedding, because I wanted to keep her secret. “And it seems to be going pretty well.”
“And how does that make you feel?”
“Me?” I smiled at her. “Terrible! Who’s going to listen to me whine about Idoia when she gets her dude back?”
Dominique knew I was kidding. I’m not that selfish. Plus, I barely knew Margot. In that moment, I couldn’t say, “I’m not happy,” for any reason that made any sense. I didn’t know if he was good for her or not; I didn’t know if he made her be the Margot she dreamed of or if he turned her into the character she didn’t want to be instead.
My phone vibrated in my hand, and I glanced quickly at her answer. But it wasn’t her. It was a notification of a “like” on my Instagram post. Can anyone guess whose it was?
“Domi! She liked it!”
“Who, Margot?”
“No! Idoia! She liked it! The flame of love is still burning!”
Ada, who seemed pretty sleepy, let out a little peep of celebration.
“You’re making me dizzy with all these girls,” I heard Dominique mutter. “‘Ooh, Idoia is the love of my life, ooh, Margot is supercool, ooh, the girlie from the corner store is making eyes at me.’”
“I’ve got it made now. I’m on the right path, Domi. In two months, mark my words, in two months…I’ll be moving into Idoia’s apartment.”
“I’d say that’s a shame, but I don’t know if you doing all the laundry, ironing, and taking care of Ada sometimes is worth having to be silent while I get laid.”
“Good luck with that, now that you’re a mother.” I gave her the finger with a flourish.
And I decided to text Margot, who was still online but still not responding.
David
I’m going to ignore the fact that you haven’t responded to my invitation even though you’re online, and simp pathetically by messaging you twice in a row because…I need to tell you that…someone…pressed…like…on…my…ass.
Margot
Idoia?
David
No. Someone from One Direction.
Of course!
Margot
Yeah, boy! We’re flying off the shelves!
David
We’re on clearance.
Fine. So then?
Margot
So then what?
David
Are you coming over for dinner on Monday?
Online, but Margot still didn’t answer. I was about to tell her not to worry about it, to forget the invitation, when she finally responded.
Margot
What time? Should I bring wine?
David
9:30. Bring whatever you want.
“Domi!” I yelled. “Chicharrones on Monday.”
Then I did a little victory jig that completely horrified Dominique, who picked up her daughter and whisked her out of the room.
On Monday I went down to meet Margot at the door. I don’t know why I waited for her there, but it seemed polite. I saw her climb out of a black car, which I figured was a Cabify, and say thank you to the driver by name.
“You’re so sweet, Daisy,” I said to her.
She hadn’t noticed me, and when she heard my voice, it made her jump a little. She always did that when she was scared, and I found myself trying purposely to get that reaction, hiding around corners to watch her jump. It was as cute as watching Ada yawn.
She was carrying a bottle of red wine and a little box, probably with some kind of dessert, and she had forced herself not to get dressed up. I didn’t know her well enough to know how she usually dressed, but from the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, I could tell she was insecure, nervous. She was wearing the jeans I had chosen for her, wide-legged and high-waisted, with a white tank top and a blazer and a bag that pulled the whole thing together slung across her chest.
“Hey, aren’t you Jenny from the block?” I needled her.
“Aren’t you Karl Lagerfeld?”
“Who?”
She came over, and I held out my hand to shake, which, as always, made her smile.
“When are you going to greet me the way God commands?”
I looked at her again as I opened the door. “How does God command I greet a girl like you?”
“With a bow.”
I let out a chuckle that ricocheted around the hallway. “Are you nervous, sad eyes?”
“No, why?”
“Because you seem nervous.”
“Well, I’m not.” She flashed her teeth at me.
“Was that a smile, or is your vagina itchy?”
She sucked her teeth and pushed past me, heading toward the elevator and opening the door.
“What floor is it?”
“Third.”
“Look at that, three, my lucky number.”
“Maybe I’m your lucky number.” I got in and stood in front of her. I noticed she took half a step back and, I don’t know why, maybe to see what how she’d react, I took one forward.
She held her breath, and I pushed the button for the third floor.
“What’s going on?”
“You’re really close.” She put her hand on my stomach and pushed. “And it’s tiny in here.”
“Do you think I’m hitting on you?”
“No. I just think you’re annoying. Plus, I don’t like small spaces.”
I leaned against the opposite wall and held out my hand so she’d hand over the wine, but she shook her head. I was really enjoying seeing her lose her patience, get nervous, not know what to say. It was like having a box seat to the match between the official Margot and the real one.
I snatched the bottle and yanked it away from her.
“‘Nebro, 2013,’” I read out loud.
“I looked up the food you mentioned, and I saw it was fried pork and mashed plantains, so I thought a red was the best option.”
“Look how diligent you are. You were always top of your class, eh?”
“Well, no, smart-ass. My grades were never more than midrange. I’m the definition of average.”
“You?” I cackled. “Are you serious?”
“I mean on tests.” She pointed out with a grimace. “I don’t stand out in anything. Not high or low, not skinny or fat, not pretty or ugly.”
“That’s not true,” I mumbled, not sure why I was saying it.
“Yes it is.” She smiled. “But it’s fine. Not everyone has to shine.”
I shrugged. I didn’t agree, but I wasn’t sure if Margot would want me to insist or if it would actually make her feel more uncomfortable hearing me say that I thought she was much more remarkable than her sisters, for example, with that helpless appearance and the inner strength. It was like one of those cookies where, when you bite into them, a filling you weren’t expecting bursts on your tongue. Seriously, two big, round brown eyes had never said so much. She gave herself away when she blinked, but she probably didn’t realize that, and I didn’t want to reveal the secret.
We got the to the third floor before I could think of anything to say (saved by the bell), so I got out first and held the door open for her.
“Such a gentleman. You feeling okay?”
I took my keys out of my right pocket and wondered if she had noticed I was wearing my new clothes: the black chinos and an unwrinkled shirt in the same color. Everything chosen by her. But I didn’t say anything about it; I just opened the door and announced our arrival.
“We’re here. Domi, Ivan…”
Dominique rushed out first, elbowing Ivan out of the way so she could see Margot. She was really curious to meet her, even though I didn’t really get why. She was just a friend. And, in theory, I only agreed to this to get her to cook chicharrones…and because I liked being with Margot and I would take any excuse.
“Hi, Margot.” She pounced on her and planted a loud kiss on each cheek. “I was dying to meet you. David talks so much about you.”
“Well, David talks a lot in general, I’ve noticed.”
They shared a smile.
“I brought you some cakes for dessert.”
“And wine.” I held up the bottle.
“You didn’t have to!”
“It was the least I could do… Something smells amazing!” Margot raved. “Did you cook all this yourself?”
“Yes, but it’s nothing. Just a typical dish from my country that David loves.”
“He told me. He said something a little more obscene. Hi, Ivan,” she greeted him. “But…but wait! Who’s this little person?”
Ivan came over with Ada in his arms, who was trembling like she was possessed.
“Is that beautiful smile for me?” Margot asked, leaning down to Ada. Ivan held her out, and, surprised, Margot took her skillfully. “Wow, what a little warrior. The world is your oyster.”
And, ladies and gentlemen, she wasn’t talking in a baby voice or talking like a cartoon character. Margot spoke to Ada just like she spoke to me. And I liked that. I liked it so much that she didn’t call her “princess” or “pretty little thing” that I had to look away.
“She looks like both of you!” she said to them. “And she’s super alert too. David told me she’s seven months?”
Ivan gave me a slap on the back.
“Relax, dude,” he whispered.
“I am relaxed.”
“You look like you have a stick up your ass.”
And he was right. I don’t know why, but ever since Margot had set foot in the house, I was the one who was nervous. Maybe because I could tell from her manners that she had never lived on the couch in her best friends’ apartment. Maybe because I felt…inferior in these conditions. But…to whom?
Domi showed her around the apartment while we chilled the wine and set the table. When they came back, we were both drinking beer from the bottle, leaning against the wall in the living room, hesitating, not knowing whether to sit down.
“What are you doing standing up?” Margot said startled, with a smile. She was still carrying Ada, and Ada seemed enchanted.
She held her hand out to me. Margot, not the baby. Well, actually to my beer. I passed her the bottle and took Ada while she took a sip straight from the bottle and then gave it back. When I drank again, she looked at me and laughed.
“Come on, let’s go.”
She ran her thumb over my lips a couple of times, roughly, and when she moved it away, I saw it was stained with lipstick. I hadn’t even thought about it when I shared the bottle. Sorry…did we just share a bottle? So intimate, so soon.
I ducked my head and ran my hand over my mouth, and when I looked up, I saw Ivan and Domi smirking. And I was worried. I was worried for a moment that they would think my friendship with Margot was something more, that they would badger us or that they wouldn’t understand our thing, whatever our thing was. We were probably the only ones who understood it. She said she wasn’t special, and she didn’t stand out? Well, I felt a peace with her that wasn’t normal or mediocre.
We were just two very conspiratorial strangers. We were just two new friends, clumsy and strung out on feeling understood. Hasn’t that ever happened to you? Suddenly you meet someone and you want them to be part of all your plans, and it seems unbelievable to you that you ever had fun without them. That’s what was happening here. We were just a mountain of hope.