The-Spanish-Love-Deception-www.indianpdf

C H A P T E R F O U R
“M
amá,” I said for the hundredth time. “Mamá, escúchame,
por favor.”
It wouldn’t really matter if I asked her to please listen
to me a thousand more times. That wasn’t something my mother excelled at,
much less ever practiced. Listening was reserved for those whose vocal cords
took breaks.
A long and loud sigh left my lips as my mother’s voice traveled from my
phone to my ear in heavy spurts of Spanish.
“Madre,” I repeated.
“… so if you decide to go with that other dress—you know which one
I’m talking about?” my mother asked in Spanish, not really giving me a
window to answer. “The one that is all flimsy and silky and falls to your
ankles. Well, as your mother, I need to tell you that it’s not flattering. I’m
sorry, Lina, but you are short, and the cut of the dress makes you look even
shorter. And green is not your color either. I don’t think that’s a color the
madrina of the wedding should wear.”
“I know, Mamá. But I already told you—”
“You’ll look like a … frog but in heels.”
Gee, thanks, Mother.
I chuckled and shook my head. “It doesn’t matter because I’m wearing
the red dress.”
A gasp came through the line. “Ay. Why didn’t you tell me this before?
You let me talk for half an hour about all your other options.”
“I told you as soon as it came up. You just—”
“Well, I must have let myself get carried away, cariño.”