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“Keep your voices down.” I look toward the kitchen where I hear my mom talking to tía Ana. “And keep your mouths shut.”
“I won’t say a word!” she says, with the same enthusiasm. “Though, honestly, I’m a little offended that I wasn’t invited.”
I don’t know if it’s the combination of feeling like I’ve upset them or excluded them. The thought that I’ve kept something for myself. Maybe it’s all the guilt finally coming to a head, consuming me. Could be the feeling of the secret finally being exposed, at least only by the two of them for now. But all of it comes to the surface, and I do something I haven’t done in front of them in a very, very long time. I start to cry.
“Shit,” T mumbles, while Delfi looks at me wide-eyed.
“Hey Julie,” Delfi says in a quiet, soothing voice as she comes over to me.
T walks over, too, wrapping her arms around me, her mouth a firm line.
“I’m sorry. This is so stupid,” I say in frustration.
“No, no. It is not stupid.” Delfi’s voice is adamant, and a little louder now. She’s shaking her head.
“I just wanted to do this thing for me. Give my life a little more excitement, a little more meaning, like you guys have done with yours.”
“Shit, Julie,” T says.
“I was only kidding about being invited. You deserve to do this for yourself. You know that, don’t you?”
“Do I deserve to do it? Or am I wasting my precious time?” I look to the kitchen again. “Please don’t tell them.”
“Fuck them. Who cares what they think?” T asks abrasively.
“I do.”
“And you shouldn’t,” she states.
“You know how my mom gets. And if she hears about what’s been going on, she’ll probably lose her shit.”
“She’s had a hard life,” Delfi nods.
“It doesn’t make her any less of a pain in the ass,” T retorts.
“Abuela gave me the shoes. I thought maybe I should just go for it, I don’t know,” I try to reason.
“Yes! Of course, you should,” Delfi agrees.
“I’m gonna need more details than that,” T says.
I eye her, sighing in defeat. “Logan happened to be the instructor when I signed up for the classes. I met him before,” I admit.
“Logan? Like Gavin’s brother?” Delfi asks, looking between us and trying to catch up.
“Yes. That one.” I sigh.
“Damn, how did I miss that?” she tells T.
“Anyway, it was getting tricky with work, but I didn’t want to quit. So, I decided to do private lessons.”
Delfi gasps, and T just laughs. “You tangoslut, I love it!”
“Shut up,” I say, wanting to be exasperated, but almost laughing it off instead.
“Okay, so now what?” T asks, egging me on.
“There’s another milonga coming up in a couple of weeks. It’s the end of the session and his partner is leaving.”
