2010… whoa…
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EPOV
She had walked in the front door, supported by Alice, wearing what can only be described as a 'mom-dress'. I noticed she tended to cringe away from Rosalie, but didn't understand why until Alice explained both the get-up and the fact that Rose had been 'forced' to slap the girl in the Porsche when she was frightened into hysterics by the Phoenix noonday traffic.
I had scrambled to my feet, wiping my Cheeto-orange hands on my jeans before being formally re-introduced to the Crazy Chick.
"Lo recuerdas? El es mi hermano, Edward." I extended my hand to her slowly when all I could understand from Alice was the word 'brother' and my own name. She had looked at my hand warily, leaving it hanging there a second more than was comfortable before reaching out with her own. Except that she didn't place it sideways in mine for a normal handshake. She placed her fingertips against mine and bent her wrist until her hand was vertical. Shit, like an old movie—she expected me to kiss her fucking hand? Alice had let out a laugh that she quickly tried to disguise as a cough.
I stood there like an asshole, trying to decide whether to comply before just sort of squeezing her fingers lamely and dropping her hand. I wiped my hand discreetly on my jeans again; my hand was fucking sweaty. The girl was still staring at me, her lips mouthing words silently. Finally, she smiled slightly at me, and whispered, "Eduardo." Well, that certainly sounded like my name.
"What's that she said?" I asked Alice.
"Yeah, that's your name, in Spanish. Do you mind if she calls you that?"
"Uh, I guess," I mumbled. Chick was freaky. I mentioned to Alice that Jazz had called, that he would be home for dinner at seven. Alice took the girl upstairs to show her the other guest room where she'd be staying. Rose hung out with me, and we spent the afternoon going over what Alice had explained to her and the stuff I'd witnessed myself. The only thing we could agree on—for lack of better answers—was how fucked up the whole thing was.
And then, dinnertime.
I still couldn't get over the way this chick sat ramrod-straight in the dining room chair. Her hands flitted gracefully over her plate, sniffing her food before she put it in her mouth—she held the fork and knife in the strangest way. Crazy Chick looked absolutely baffled when presented with the meal Alice had prepared: chicken fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and collared greens. Alice was always preparing Southern dishes for Jasper. She told us the girl had actually tried to help her out in the kitchen, since it was a woman's job to cook (the girl's own words) but Alice had kicked her out when the kitchen appliances overwhelmed her.
I hated to admit it, but it was oddly fascinating to observe as this girl with impeccable table manners (despite the sniffing) attempted to navigate what to her must be a very strange world. Despite the outfit, and after the red mark had faded from her cheek, I could sort of see beyond the crazy façade. Watching her, apparently oblivious to my stare, I half-listened as Alice told us what the girl had revealed that afternoon. I had yet to speak to her directly.
"Isabella says she comes from a place called Asturias, in northern Spain. That's where she was born, but then her family moved to… the new continent, she calls it Nueva Epaña, or New Spain. Jazz, we really need to Google this stuff, check out where she's coming from. Yes, Edward, I realize she could have done exactly the same thing to trick us all."
Alice startled me out of my reverie for a moment, and the girl glanced up to meet my eyes. Eduardo. It didn't sound half-bad. "Uh-huh, Alice. I know."
She continued. "Her family owns—or owned, I guess I should say—a lot of land. They were really wealthy. Big house, servants, you name it. Isabella says she was engaged to be married before she left Asturias." Chick looked up at the mention of her name, smiling blandly at Alice. My sister returned the smile. "And she was still waiting for him to join her. There were big wedding plans underway, before she found herself here." Alice popped her fork in her mouth. "That's the last thing she remembers, working with her mother on stuff for the wedding."
"Fascinating," I muttered sarcastically as I watched the girl take a whiff out of her glass before sipping the water slowly. Fucking strange shit.
When we finished eating, Jasper began clearing the table, and I helped. Isabella looked at us in confusion. I could have bet the money in my trust fund that men were not supposed to do this either. I grinned at her and shook my head. She stared back with her eyebrows furrowed. This time, I was close enough that I could read the word off her lips.
"Eduardo…"
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"You should practice some of the Spanish on her, you know. However will you manage tomorrow? Jazz and I gotta work." Alice and I sat in front of the laptop, trying to find more information on Crazy Chick based on the info she had spilled.
"Yeah, I know. I'll have to try." I punched some keys, but no dice.
"Here, let me type," Alice said. "We might find more if I write in Spanish." She made to push me out of my swivel chair.
"Fine," I grunted as I scooted over. We had already found Asturias on Google maps, and the Spanish countryside did look pretty idyllic—all green and hilly and shit. It was like time hadn't passed at all. I wondered if she would recognize it through pictures; it might work, some other day. She was currently asleep, after Jasper had given her half a sleeping pill.
I looked over Alice's shoulder as she typed in nueva españa, and came up with restaurant and newspaper names. "Click on images," I suggested.
First icon that came up was a map of what looked like Mexico, shaded in red. It also included a great big chunk of the United States, what was now California, Texas, Arizona of course, and everything in between up to the Dakotas. Shit. Then some old-timey looking maps popped up.
"Quick, check Jasper's notes," Alice urged. I flipped through the legal notepad Jazz wrote in that day in the hospital. I skimmed through it. I followed the words with my finger until I found it.
"Shit, Alice, look. This is what she said. It's right there on the map." I gave the notebook to Alice as I squinted at the blurry image. Nuevo Reino de León.
"Northern Mexico. Well, if she is lying, at least you know she did her homework."
I snorted. "Sure. Why go at it half-assed, right?"
"Let's look up her name." Alice typed furiously, her tapping kind of loud. The girl's name didn't come up directly, but the Cisneros was highlighted all over. Alice clicked on a Spanish link, explaining that it was like a genealogy site of sorts. "It tells you were your family name comes from." It was all foreign to me, of course, so I leaned back in the chair while Alice read the screen.
"Anything?"
"Well, there are Cisneros all over Spain, obviously, including Asturias. But it does say something about the families being closely tied to the kingdom of Spain."
"As in, she's really fucking royalty?" My voice was colored with disbelief.
"Sort of. Her family could have been placed somewhere in the line of succession." She typed some more, and read quietly to herself. "Here. She said she was a marquesa. That means marchioness… a really old-fashioned title. But it ranks up there with dukes and earls and stuff."
"No shit. Then—"
A muffled scream cut me off mid-sentence. We both glanced up before scrambling out of the stupid swivel chair and I tripped over the wheels.
"FUCK!" I cursed while picking myself off the floor. My heart was hammering like a bitch, the adrenaline spiking. The cry had pierced the silence of the house like a knife. Once on the second floor, I detoured into my own room, where I grabbed the blue Oxford dictionary. I finally made it upstairs to Crazy Chick's room, where Alice was already comforting her with what I assumed were soft Spanish platitudes.
"She had a nightmare, that's all," Alice said to me quietly.
I rifled through the dictionary quickly, searching for the words. "Um… todo estar bien." It came out sounding like a question: everything will be alright.
The girl was sitting up in the bed, with Alice's arm around her shoulders. She glanced up, cocking her head to the right as she processed my broken Spanish. She sniffled, nodding slowly. Shit, she understood what I tried to say!
"Solid effort, Edward. You might want to conjugate the verbs once in a while, though." Alice grinned.
"Shut up." I gave her the finger, and shut the Oxford with a bang. Crazy chick started a bit, bringing her hand up to wipe the residual tears from her face. Her eyes were oddly intense in the dim light of the lamp beside her. The yellow light burned some reddish streaks in her deep brown hair. It hung loose down her back, framing her face. I wanted to match that exact color on a palette, dipping my fingers in the paint, thick and rich. And then the girl's words took me out of my reverie, again whispering my Spanish name.
"Eduardo…"
I didn't know what to answer.
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I know I don't have to have an iced vanilla latte when I write, but I do it so much better when I do. Reviews are like Edward running his fingers through your hair.
