“Deal with him? You mean, over the settlement negotiations?”
“That. Everything. He wants to spend Christmas with me and la chiquita here.”
“You’re not going to let him, are you?”
“He’s her father. I couldn’t stand it if he just disappeared out of her life, the way Papi did with us,” Melanie said, a catch in her voice.
“You still obsessing about that ancient history? You know, ever since I wrote Papi and told him he was a rat bastard and I never wanted to hear from him again, I feel so much better. You should try it. It’s very liberating.”
“It’s kind of an empty gesture to kick someone out of my life who’s not even in it, don’t you think? I just got a Christmas card from him from a totally new address. He signs it ‘Feliz Navidad, Papi y familia.’ That’s it. No note saying he moved, no pictures of his kids, nothing. You believe that?”
“So tell him not to write to you. Then you won’t feel bad when he sends you that impersonal bullshit.”
Melanie thrust the shopping bag at her sister. “Here, help me figure out what to wear. I don’t want to talk about this stuff anymore. Too depressing.”
Linda rummaged through the shopping bag, her dark brows knitting into a frown. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“I told you, mostly I own suits for work, and jeans. What about that red sweater? It’s pretty sexy on. Or the black dress from when Steve and I were dating? It had a little tear, but I sewed it.”
“Not if you plan to be seen in public with me! Get your butt in here,” Linda said, flouncing through the gold curtains into her closet. Melanie picked up Maya and followed.
Inside the closet, mirrors covered one wall, reflecting hundreds of specialized shoe cubbies Linda had installed opposite. Four massive department-store-style metal clothing racks bearing extravagant garments in every color of the rainbow filled the rest of the space.
“Quítate la ropa,” Linda ordered, and disappeared into the racks.
Melanie stripped off the jeans and turtleneck she’d worn over to her sister’s. She’d showered and blow-dried her hair when she went home to get Maya, and for reasons she couldn’t explain-or didn’t want to admit-donned her sexiest lingerie, a lacy black push-up bra and thong set trimmed in candy pink ribbon. Steve had given them to her for Valentine’s Day last year, right around the time she began to suspect he was fooling around with that executive assistant. You wish, she’d thought, and stuck them in the back of a drawer. But tonight she’d pulled them out, and now she twirled around, checking herself in the mirror, fantasizing about how Dan’s face would look if he saw her in them. How he’d come up to her, whisper to her in that incredible voice, back her up against the wall, put his hands all over her body-
¡Qué estúpida! Like she could afford to get obsessed with Dan O’Reilly again, with how lonely and vulnerable she was these days. She even did it with Steve a few weeks back when he came by to drop off Maya, that’s how desperate she was for companionship-or, let’s be honest, sex. She would never tell Linda. And yes, she regretted it, but it’d just happened. She’d been sitting on the sofa in the dark flipping channels and feeling depressed while Steve put Maya down in her crib. She’d looked up to find him standing in the doorway bathed in the blue light of the TV, staring at her with this incredibly potent combination of lust and nostalgia. Next thing she knew, he was on top of her and they were going at it like wild animals.
Not that there was any real danger they would slip into a reconciliation. Steve kept her on track. Lying naked on the couch afterward, half dozing, she’d heard a noise like the clicking of insects and looked over to find him tapping madly away on his BlackBerry. He’d been evasive when she asked him who he was texting. If she started thinking even for a second about getting back together, she could count on Steve to remind her why she’d left.
“Uh, what?” Melanie said, realizing Linda had been speaking to her.
“I said, I’m glad to see you finally took my advice and got yourself some cute knickers,” Linda said, walking over and pinching Melanie’s hips. “And you’re looking real good, too. You were kinda porky there for a while, sis. What are you, on Zone or South Beach or something?”
“No, I just don’t have time to eat.”
Linda laughed.
“I’m serious,” Melanie said.
“Hey, whatever it is, it’s working. And I take it from your choice of undergarments you’re planning to get lucky tonight?”
“No!” Melanie said, but she could feel herself blushing.
“Oh, wait one minute! I haven’t seen that expression on your face since you were all crazy for that FBI hunk. Is there a new guy in the picture?”
“A new guy? Definitely not.”
Linda scrutinized her. “You’re not wearing that slutty underwear for my benefit, chica. Come on, give it up.”
“It’s not slutty.”
“Hello, good girl. Slutty is a compliment.”
“There’s no new guy,” Melanie insisted, still blushing.
“The same guy? He’s back?”
“Dan? No. Well, I mean, he’s assigned to my new case, but-”
“Assigned to your case!” Linda yelped and began hopping up and down, clutching herself. “Mel’s got a boyfriend, Mel’s got a boyfriend!” Maya, sitting on the floor playing with some plastic rings, looked at Linda and gave a hoot of hilarity. Melanie couldn’t help laughing, too.
“Lin, I swear, sometimes I think you’re still eight years old.”
“That would make you ten, and, chica, with those curves you do not look ten.”
Melanie watched in the mirror as her flamboyant sister waltzed around, holding on to a sparkly beige dress as if it were her dance partner. She was startled to see how alike she and Linda looked, with their shiny dark hair, almond eyes, and full lips. She thought of Linda as so much more beautiful than herself, but it wasn’t true. Linda just acted the part, whereas Melanie was afraid to.
“Come on, spill it,” Linda demanded. “What happened so far? And I want every gory detail. What he likes, the size of his-”
“Will you stop? Nothing’s happened, and nothing’s going to. Dan scares me too much.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not afraid of anything.”
“This guy, I am! When I get back into dating again, I’m taking it slow. He’d mess up my head, and I have Maya to think of after all.”
“Huh. Well, okay, if that’s how you feel. But I must say, I never saw a woman wear black lace panties for a guy she was planning to cold-shoulder.”
“I’m not wearing them for him. I’m just wearing them.”
“Yeah, right, Miss Jockey for Her. Like I believe that.”
Linda held the beige dress up against Melanie, studying the effect in the mirror.
“Hmm, no. Muy de modo but too neutral. We need you in some bright, sexy colors, chica. Something that screams, Hello, FBI hunk, nail my boricua ass so I can go home and tell my sister all about it.”
“Did you hear what I just said?”
“Oh, shut up and stop being so boring. Try this on, and we’ll just see where your night ends up.” Linda thrust a filmy scrap of tomato red fabric at Melanie.
“What is it?”
“It’s a top, silly. D &G. Label whore that I am, you should thank your lucky stars I’m even thinking of lending it to you.”
Melanie took the thing. There was barely enough to it to keep it on the hanger. She slipped it from its moorings and looked at it suspiciously.