Instead, he nodded.
“Hello, Puri.”
He opened the door wider for me to come in. I hesitated before entering, but at least my long black gown was good for hiding the tremor in my legs.
The living room was a cozy combination of Angélica’s impeccable taste and Catalina’s discreet simplicity. There was a long, maroon sofa in front of three windows framed in oak wood. They were furnished with soft beige drapery, and there were plants scattered throughout the room. I noticed, without intending to, that there were no portraits of my father in sight.
Catalina stood upon seeing me and set her embroidery by her side.
There was something different about her, too. She no longer wore black. Instead, she’d picked a pink gingham dress with a belt that crossed over and buttoned in the front.
I greeted her first. She offered a coy smile. The silence between us prolonged for a few, unbearable seconds.
“Would you like something to drink?” Alberto said. “A fruit tea?”
“Yes, please.” I wasn’t thirsty, but I needed something to do with my hands, something to distract us from the tense silence.
And Angélica and Laurent weren’t even here yet.
“Any preference?” he asked.
“Whatever you have will be fine.”
“I’ll go get Rosita,” he said.
So they’d taken the cook with them. Well, I couldn’t say that I was surprised.
“Have a seat,” Catalina said.
I sat on the edge of a rocking chair that looked familiar—it might have been in Catalina’s room before. The old me would have known exactly what to say, how to engage Catalina in conversation and defuse our mutual discomfort. But after living like Cristóbal for a couple of weeks, I’d learned to appreciate silence. In some ways, I’d become more contemplative and introspective.
“You look so nice,” Catalina said. “So different.”
“And you look beautiful in pink,” I said.
“Thank you.”
I sat with my ankles crossed and my hands clasped in my lap. Someone was at the door. Catalina stood, nervously.
“I’m home!” Angélica said from the foyer.
Catalina stared at me, uncertain. I remained in my seat, though I could feel my pulse speeding up.
“I found the loveliest fabric at Le Parisien,” she said, entering the room, wearing a lovely mint frock. She nearly dropped the parcel in her hands when she saw me.
“Buenas tardes, Angélica,” I said.
She stood up straight and raised her chin.
“What are you doing here?”
My mind went blank. I had a speech planned. I knew exactly what and how I was going to say it, but the whole, rehearsed speech died on my lips.
“Visiting.” Alberto reentered the room, followed by Rosita carrying a metal tray with a teapot and three porcelain cups. The color drained from her face when she saw Angélica and me in the same room. Alberto spoke louder, with an almost annoyed tone, “What else would she be doing?”
“I don’t know,” Angélica said. “Maybe she wants more money?”
“Oh, stop it, Angélica. Haven’t you caused enough damage already?” He turned toward Rosita. “Just set that tray on the table and leave, please.”
Alberto sounded more assertive than ever. Gone was the youthful friendliness I’d seen at the bar when I’d just met him.
“I have caused damage?” Angélica said.
“What do you call that lawsuit you made us sign?” he said.
“Nobody forced you.”
“You took advantage of our vulnerable state. We were confused, angry, hurt.”
I stood up. “Please. I didn’t come here to fight. I don’t want to cause more conflict between you. Between us.”
“Then what do you want?” Angélica said, the veins in her forehead visible.
“I want . . . I came to make a truce.”
The three of them stood silent.
“It was wrong of me to deceive you. I should have been less of a coward and confronted you with the truth of what happened on the ship, but I was so angry, so filled with hatred, with fear.” I squeezed my hands together. “But then, I got to know all of you, to like you. I didn’t realize until much later that none of you were at fault over what happened to my husband. None of you ever had any intention to cause me harm. I now see that a big injustice had been committed against you, against all of us. Our father should have left us an equal share of the money and properties. It wasn’t your fault that he abandoned me. I now understand your frustration.”