I nod at Artemis and Apolo, who smiles back. Artemis doesn’t look like the type to pick a fight with someone. He always looks so regal, mature, and cool. Or maybe I’m jumping to conclusions.
A tall, older, white-haired doctor comes out of the room, adjusting his glasses. I step back, letting Apolo and Artemis stand next to Ares to hear what the doctor has to say.
“It’s good news,” he begins, and their sighs of relief echo in the hallway.
The doctor proceeds to explain Grandpa Hidalgo’s condition using medical jargon that I don’t quite understand. The little I can decipher is that, although there are still some tests to be done, the damage from the stroke is minimal, and Grandpa Hidalgo is going to be fine. The doctor tells them that they can see him now and leaves.
I stand watching as the four men in front of me hesitate; they want to give each other a hug, but their codes of behavior won’t allow it, and I find that so sad. Why is it so hard to understand that it’s okay to hug each other when you want to cry for joy because your grandfather will be okay? Their emotions cross their faces so clearly: joy, relief, guilt.
I take Ares’s arm and turn him toward me, and, before he can say anything, I give him a tight hug. Over his shoulder, I watch as Apolo hugs his father, and a doubtful Artemis joins them. They get ready to go inside, and I give Ares a few last words of encouragement before watching him disappear through the door.
I sit in the metal chair where Artemis had been. I don’t think his grandpa would want to see a stranger after waking up from something like that. I’m waiting, absorbed in my thoughts, when I hear footsteps echo across the floor. When I look up, I see a girl walking toward me, and it takes me a few seconds to recognize her without her uniform: Claudia.
She greets me, and we start to talk. I ask her a question, and she’s about to answer when we hear the clear sound of heels heading toward us. Claudia turns, and I follow her gaze.
Sofia Hidalgo walks perfectly in her five-inch red heels, wearing a white skirt that covers her knees and a shirt of the same color with a red print. In her hands she carries a small, discreet purse, also crimson in color. Her face looks flawless with makeup that looks professionally done, and her hair is in a tight ponytail. This lady is in her forties, almost fifty, and she looks thirty. The elegance she conveys is so genuine that anyone would say she was born with it.
She’s very beautiful, I think to myself. Then those blue eyes that my Greek god inherited from her fall on me and she raises a perfect eyebrow.
“And who are you?”
FORTY-ONE
The Boyfriend
Silence reigns as Claudia and I stare at Sofia Hidalgo. Out of all the possible reactions I could imagine, Claudia’s was not one of them. It reminded me of the sayings: “People are not what they seem” and “Never judge a book by its cover.”
When I first saw Claudia, she struck me as submissive: a service girl who was used to lowering her head in front of her bosses, who had witnessed the best and worst moments of the family she worked for but said nothing about it.
Boy, was I abysmally wrong.
Ares’s mother waits for my answer, not bothering to hide her contemptuous look. I can’t speak. I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m very intimidated by this lady. Sofia crosses her arms over her chest.
“I asked you a question,” she says. I clear my throat.
“My name is Ra-Raquel.” I extend my hand to her in a friendly manner. She glances at my hand and then back at me.
“Well, Ra-Raquel,” she mocks my stutter, “what are you doing here?”
Claudia stands next to me, and with her head held high and a firm voice, she speaks for me: “She came with Ares.”
At the mention of Ares, Sofia raises an eyebrow.
“Are you kidding? Why would Ares bring a girl like her?”
“Why don’t you ask him yourself? Oh, right, communication with your children is not your forte.”
Sofia presses her lips. “Don’t start with your little tone, Claudia. The last thing you want to do is provoke me.”
“Then stop looking at her like that. You don’t know her.”
Sofia gives us a tired look. “I don’t have time to waste with you. Where is my husband?”
Claudia just points to the door, and Sofia walks through it, leaving us alone. Finally, I feel like I can breathe. I clutch my chest.
“What a scary woman,” I say.
Claudia smiles at me. “You have no idea.”
“But you don’t seem to be intimidated.”
“I grew up in that house. I think I developed the ability to deal with intimidating people long ago.”