“Mom, I went by your apartment.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to bring something.”
“You could have called.”
“Where are you?”
“I told you. My house.”
“You actually bought another place?”
“Yes.”
“With what money?”
I smiled.
“That’s an interesting first question.”
“Mom.”
“We can talk another day.”
“I want to see you.”
“You have dinner plans.”
Then I heard Gabriel.
“Grandma?”
“Hugo, put him on.”
His small voice came through.
“Grandma, are you coming tonight?”
“No, sweetheart.”
“I want you to.”
“I want to see you too.”
“Where are you?”
“At my new house.”
“Can I come?”
“My door is always open for you. If your parents want to bring you for a few hours, you’re welcome.”
Carla took the phone.
“No. Gabriel is having dinner with us.”
“I understand.”
“You’re confusing him.”
“I’m not the person who excluded his grandmother from Christmas Eve.”
“Margarita, please don’t create a scene.”
Around me, Felipe’s staff carried dishes into the kitchen while Olivia arranged family photographs. Beyond the windows, the Pacific glittered.
“I’m preparing dinner, Carla. The scene is somewhere else.”
I ended the call.
Guests arrived around four.
Mauricio checked the address three times before coming inside in dark jeans, boots, and a clean work shirt. His hands still carried faint marks from years around engines.
“This is actually yours?”
“Yes.”
“Hugo knows?”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“That makes it worse.”
“What does?”
“He treated you like that because he thought you didn’t have anything.”
