Special Family Games novel · Chapter 3 of 12

Chapter 3: The Sister

Mirtha Vargas sat down at the kitchen counter, pulled a folder out of her briefcase, and opened it without saying hello.

"Your husband filed a petition for guardianship against Rodrigo."

Rosalía froze with her coffee cup halfway to her mouth.

"What?"

"Last Tuesday. In family court. He's asking to have him declared legally incompetent to manage his own assets, based on a medical report from six months ago." She flipped the page. "Hearing is next Friday."

"That can't be right."

"It is."

"Eladio told me he was just going to bring in a doctor to…"

"To complete the file. I know." Mirtha looked up. "Your brother-in-law is an organized man."

I was sitting in the chair in the corner, with my plastic bucket, staring into space.

Mirtha glanced at me out of the corner of her eye.

A look that lasted seconds, like someone checking a lock.

"And what does he understand of all this?"

"Nothing," said Rosalía, too quickly.

"Mm-hm."

"Mirtha."

"Rosalía, don't lie to me. Ten years of contracts for other people." She took off her glasses. "I've been sitting here twenty minutes, and the boy hasn't stopped following me with his eyes."

Rosalía covered her mouth.

I looked up.

Mirtha held my gaze, lips pressed together, without blinking.

"Hi, Mirtha," I said.

My voice came out hoarse, broken, like someone who hasn't used it in a long time.

My sister-in-law dropped her pen.

It rolled across the counter.

It fell to the floor.

"My God," she whispered. "How long?"

"Six weeks."

"Does Eladio know?"

"No."

"And the petition?"

"If I know about it, I can't beat it from here."

Mirtha stared at me, mouth slightly open.

Then she laughed.

A nervous laugh, the kind a lawyer lets out when she's just been handed the best gift of the year.

"You're a genius," she said. "You're a genius, boy."

"It wasn't my idea."

"Doesn't matter."

"I need to know if there's anything I can do."

"You can keep your mouth shut." She leaned toward me. "In front of Eladio, in front of the doctor, and in front of anyone who isn't the three of us, you stay the simpleton. Until Friday. That day, in front of the judge, you stand up and you speak."

"Without a plan."

"With a plan. I'll build it." She looked at her sister. "I need proof that he's not incapacitated. Proof that Eladio knows or suspects it. Proof that the doctor was paid off. And proof of where the trust money is going."

"I record everything," said Rosalía, quietly.

Mirtha frowned.

"What?"

"I've been recording his calls for a month. On my phone. I have four hours."

"Rosalía."

"Something smelled wrong."

Mirtha looked at her like she was seeing her for the first time.

"My sister, the spy," she said, with an admiring smile.

"Your sister isn't a fool anymore."

"She never was."

They hugged, quick, hard.

Then Mirtha closed the folder.

"They're coming this afternoon with the doctor. I want you two to put on a hell of a show. And you tell me every single word."

"Yes."

"And don't you dare die of anything before Friday."

She left.

Rosalía leaned against the table, hand on her chest.

"God."

"She's right," I said. "We can't let our guard down."

"I know."

"So forget about this morning."

She looked at me.

"Is that what you want?"

I stayed quiet.

She smiled, with a sad edge.

"At noon we have aquatic therapy at the club," she said. "Like every Thursday."

"Yes."

"Keep up the routine."

The club in La Molina had a small indoor pool, heated, reserved for members with reduced mobility.

On Thursdays at noon it was empty.

Rosalía signed the logbook at the entrance.

The lifeguard, a bald old man who slept in his chair, greeted me with a "good afternoon, young man."

I smiled at him with my simpleton smile.

We went into the pool area.

She was wearing a black one-piece swimsuit, cut in a V at the front.

The water came up to her waist.

She took my hands and led me to the center, like every Thursday.

"Walk," she said, loud enough for the lifeguard to hear.

I walked.

"Very good. Slowly."

I walked.

"Now float."

I lay back.

She held me with one hand under my neck and the other under my waist.

I felt her fingers trace down my back beneath the water, gripping the fabric of my swim trunks.

"The lifeguard isn't looking," she whispered.

"You sure?"

"He fell asleep."

I looked at her.

I straightened up.

I took her by the waist and carried her to the wall, where the pool was deeper and the light barely reached.

I pressed her against the tiles.

She spread her legs in the water.

I pulled down the strap of her swimsuit with my teeth.

Her breasts came out, wet, glistening.

I licked them one by one.

She covered her mouth with her hand.

"Rodrigo…"

"Quiet."

I slid the fabric of her suit aside and sank into her standing up, water up to my chest.

A muffled moan escaped her.

I held her against the wall.

I thrust gently at first, so the water wouldn't make noise, and then harder.

She wrapped her legs around me.

With her mouth pressed to my ear, she whispered things I didn't know she knew how to say.

"More. Break me. Break me, my love."

"What did you say?"

"My love."

That made me lose control.

I grabbed her ass and drove into her so hard the water splashed.

A small wave rippled across the pool.

The lifeguard shifted in his chair.

We froze.

There was a long silence.

Then the old man snored.

We looked at each other.

We held back our laughter with our mouths shut tight.

We finished at the same time, foreheads pressed together, without making a single sound.

We stayed like that, wrapped up against the wall.

Until the glass door to the pool swung open with a bang, and a deep, cheerful voice boomed under the ceiling:

"Rosalía! Where's my simpleton?"

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