“What do you mean you forgot the only thing I asked from the market?” My sweet sister that had been sprawled on the couch watching MTV sat up and said with a big scowl. By sweet, I hope it’s clear, I mean sarcastic. “You spent over two hours in the market, only bought like five things and didn’t get my cereal bars?”
“I forgot. It happened a lot tonight.” I dumped the shopping bag on the kitchen table and came back to the living room. It was a nice little apartment. It had always been a shared dream for us to come and live in the USA for a while. I was there to get my Masters in Law and she was an undergradute with a Major in Political Science.
Brazil was very far away and I couldn’t be happier. Don't get me wrong, I love my home. But I've always wanted to stop being just Brazilian and become worldly; know what I mean?
Brazil was very far away and I couldn’t be happier. Don't get me wrong, I love my home. But I've always wanted to stop being just Brazilian and become worldly; know what I mean?
“You won’t believe when I tell you what happened at the market. You should’ve come with me.” I pushed her legs out of the couch and let myself sank.
“Hey!” she complained “Hmm, what happened?”
“I met this absurdly handsome guy. Late twenties, early thirties, tall, short light brown hair, curling at the ends, beautiful green eyes, great smile, and terrific butt.”
“And? Where’s he?” I looked at her with the best sober face I could manage in complete silence. “What? Wasn’t it your dream? Meet this handsome guy, get married, get a green card and live happily ever after here?” She smiled, I smiled back. “It was. When I still believed that kind of thing could happen.”
“Didn’t it? We're here, you've met him. Go get him.” If only things were that simple.
I told her the whole thing, she sighed and said “That’s so sad. What kind of romantic comedy is that? Looks like one of those that start so well and end up really badly. Like in the end he stays with the tampon-girl. Come on, he ran into you three times in the same night and he didn’t even ask your name?”
That was one of the things I loved and hated about her at the same time. She could dream away with me until we were both nearly believing it and then she'd slam me back to reality. Sometimes in the same sentence. Like now. Yeah, he didn't ask my name. There are two things to consider about this. You gotta give him points for being so respectful of his relationship. But since this is about me, you also gotta be a little ticked off at him. I mean, really? She's right. After all that, he didn't even ask my name. But, I hadn't ask his either.
After I told her that, she gave me a typical Lumi look, that annoyed-silent-cold stare, and took MTV out of mute. Lady Gaga was singing about some new crazy thing and had masked people dancing and running in mazes. I shut my eyes and laid my head back. I came this far and it took me so long, I couldn't let this little thing get in the way. It was my own fault for not being... I don't know, mature? Me and my puppy dog feelings had a lesson to learn. But not tonight. Tonight had been long enough. Just for the hell of it, I pushed her out of the couch and took a little pleasure in seeing her spitting mad for being dumped on the floor. "Night, sister."
"F* you."
"Love you too."
*
I was at the supermarket again. What was I doing at the damn supermarket again, can someone tell me? Only this time, it was nearly empty and close to silent. Weird. It was the middle of the day and there were people roaming around, but as if everybody was being careful not to make any noises. It probably was one of those weird American things. Some kind of silent hour discount or a moment of silence for soldiers. Never mind.
I was standing in front of the apples pile. Didn’t I just buy apples? Like… I don’t know, a few days ago? I knew I’d bought them, but couldn’t remember when. Which was a pretty normal thing for me. So I took a bag and started selecting the best ones. They looked very good. All red and shiny. Five apples later, it still seemed like it wasn’t enough, so I kept selecting. Suddenly, the pile gave away and apples were crumbling down. I shoved the bag in my cart and used my body, both arms and hands to try to hold them in place. “Okay, so how do I get out of this now?” I wondered aloud. I looked around and the more I stretched my body, more apples fell. There were no clerks around. Not even costumers. Where were all the people when you needed them? More apples were about to fall and a hand came out of nowhere and caught them just in time.
“What is it about you, apples and supermarkets that seem to always end up in disaster?” asked a familiar annoyed voice from behind me. I felt a body come closer and brush against my back. He stretched his arms and started rebuilding the pile with the ones I was trying to hold. And this is when I turned my head. If it was a burglar or a killer, I’d probably be dead by now. But, to my shock and surprise (and delight) it was green eyes. “You! What’re you doing here?”
“Last I checked this was a supermarket. Not too many options about what to do around here.” When I only scowled his face softened and he gave a low laugh. “So, you do have a thing for knocking things down. I wondered.” He added with a smile. That should need permission for usage. “Yeah, I come to the supermarket to have some fun when I’m bored.” I said with a sarcastic smile. Then rolled my eyes. “Do you enjoy annoying me?”
“Your idea of fun is very awkward. Surprisingly, for me, it seems I do.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and stood there making fun of me.
“And you?” I asked, getting away from the pile. You never knew. “Buying more apples?”
“What if I am?”
“What is it about you and apples, anyway?”
“They taste good.”
“Melons and pineapples taste good too.”
“No trouble or mess in eating apples. You wash, you bite.”
“How very practical of you.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He said and took a step closer. We were less than a foot apart. I looked up and his eyes were locked on mine. I felt ripples on my arms and his warmth seemed to engulf me. There was no movement, no sound. Anywhere. All I could see were his eyes, all I could listen to was his slow paced breathing. There was no impulses, we just stood there. His eyes were that close to deep sea green and he hadn’t shaved. My brain seemed torn between racing with ideas and just directing everything at those eyes. And then a very loud music started playing. We jumped at that and when I stepped back I nearly smashed the pile again. He was laughing, seemed very amused at something. But not me. I recognized the song and had realized what had happened after all.
*
I woke up in my bed and took me a while before opening my eyes. The ceiling was white or was supposed to be. There were humidity marks on all four sides. The lamp hanging over the bed was round and very dusty. A dream, really? You had to be kidding me. I’ve always hated waking up from good dreams in the middle. They left this deep longing and sadness clutching at the heart that had blindly believed in the tricks of the mind. I breathed deep and sat up, hugging my legs. The dream had been so vivid, so real, it seemed impossible that it just that, a dream. The sun was washing over the floor to the right side of the bed and the alarm song on my cell was still playing. When the music stopped, I let myself fall back in the bed and curled to the side closing my eyes. That was how Lumi found me.
“Morning, sunshine. Did you know it’s after eight already?”
“Hmm. So?”
“What happened?”
“Damn dream.” Without saying anything she kicked off her slippers and lay down beside me. She was still in her PJ’s which were her favorite outfit. She could go anywhere on those. The fact is, we had this silent code that we both understood very well. Bad dream meant we had had a scary dream. Or maybe one where happened something really bad, like with an ex-boyfriend. Great dream was reserved for those few where we usually ended up in love, and or in bed with a dream guy, or had become filthy rich. Damn dream were for those that had everything to be a great one but had ended up too soon. “Don’t you have a class like about now?”
“It’s Thursday, I only have class…”
“At ten.” I completed. “Right.” And we stayed there. “I met him only two days ago and I’m dreaming about him… what the hell?”
“What the f* is a Bieber?” She always said that when I said what the hell. Some things never changed. Ozzy Osbourne ruled. Justin Bieber had married and divorced Selena Gomez before reaching 21. But who cared?
I told her the dream. She had stared at the ceiling quite like I had before she found me while she listened. “I think” she said, “that what you really need now”, she hesitated and then added with a smile “are pancakes. Buttery ones.”
For things like these, were why our sisterhood had lasted so long. Would last forever. We weren’t really sisters, you see? Our moms were aunt and niece of each other, and that made us cousins. She was eight years younger than me, but that had never really gotten in the way. We had been together since she was born, and had gone through so much, so many things, that we probably had shared more than many blood related sisters out there. She knew me better than any other person in the world. I had learned, a couple of years before, just how much that really meant. Having a person you consider family, friend and soul mate as that person is the wisest thing. Boyfriends go. Husbands left. She knew my bad, my worse, my good and my best. And loved me no matter what. That, I’ll tell you, was priceless. My sister knew how to make me feel better at each moment, and now it was pancakes.
*
