The Trip to the Beach with My Cousin Changed Everything

It was late June and I was twenty-two, lying in bed on a Saturday afternoon with nothing better to do when my phone buzzed. A message from my cousin Carla, my mother’s sister’s daughter, whom I hadn’t seen since Christmas.

—How’s it going, cousin? You’re probably out partying with girls somewhere —she wrote.

—Not at all. Just lying in bed —I replied.

—Well, make that two of us. What are your plans for the summer?

—None. I’m saving up to change cars.

—And do you really think that old clunker of yours would get us four hundred kilometers to the beach?

It took me a while to answer. My old Punto could easily handle that trip; it wasn’t that done for. But I’d been putting away every euro for months for a new car, and the idea of spending money on gas and tolls made me lazy.

—What are you thinking about? —I asked at last.

—My parents rented an apartment on the coast, for July and August. I finished driving school yesterday and I’m not going to bake here all month. I was thinking that maybe you…

—So you need a chauffeur.

—Good company, better than a chauffeur —she replied, finishing with a winking emoji.

I told her I’d take her, that I’d spend the day there and come back at night. She wouldn’t hear of it: if I went, I was staying a few days. She didn’t let me refuse. I’d go as a guest, with everything paid for; I only had to throw some clothes in a bag. The following week was her nineteenth birthday and she wanted to celebrate it. We agreed I’d pick her up at six in the morning on Sunday.

I packed that same night, put the bag in the car, and went to bed early so I’d be rested for the drive.

***

I got up at five thirty, showered, and put on a T-shirt, denim shorts, and sneakers. At six I was parked in front of her building. I waited ten minutes and, when she still hadn’t come down, I texted her asking if she’d fallen asleep.

—I’m coming down, I didn’t know what to wear —she answered.

I wasn’t surprised she took her time. When I saw her come through the building entrance, I barely recognized her. The skinny blond kid I remembered was gone. Down the ramp came a woman with long legs and loose hair whom I would never have connected with my cousin if I’d run into her in a nightclub.

I stared at her, dazed, until she tapped the trunk so I’d open it. I got out to help her with a suitcase bigger than she was. She was wearing a white denim skirt quite a bit above the knee, an off-the-shoulder blouse tied just above her navel, and sandals that showed off her red-painted toenails. The trunk couldn’t fit that much luggage: I had to put it on the back seats.

She gave me two kisses and a hug, and I caught the scent of her perfume and the warmth of her body in passing. Then she got into the passenger seat and waited for me to react. It took me a few seconds to process the change and force myself to think of her as my cousin, the kid she’d always been, and not as the woman who had just climbed into my car.

I started the engine. She didn’t take long to fall asleep, leaning against the door. The position rode her skirt up a little, and I had a hell of a time keeping my eyes on the road. On one curve, her blouse slipped off her shoulder and it became obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra. Good thing the sunrise coincided with that and she woke up, because my brain was starting to lose circulation.

Halfway there she asked me to stop. I found a gas station, we went to the restroom, and then we went into the café for breakfast. I noticed the way the men’s eyes turned as she walked by. I felt proud and jealous at the same time that my little cousin had turned into that. On the excuse that she’d treat me when we arrived, I let her buy breakfast, and we got back on the road.

Something had changed. The skirt seemed shorter, and the blouse barely covered her chest depending on how she wore it. She started asking me about my hookups at university and I answered evasively. When she couldn’t get anything out of me, she changed tactics and told me about her own life: the parties, the creeps who hovered around her, the boring dates, the practical driving test she still had left. Then she took off her sandals and stretched her legs out on the dashboard.

We almost crashed.

She realized the effect she was having and, amused, suggested I let her drive. I reminded her she still didn’t have her license and that with her legs up at windshield height, safety didn’t count for much. She pouted like a little girl who hadn’t gotten her way. She put her feet back down and hiked her clothes up until everything looked two sizes too big. We spent the rest of the trip almost in silence, her looking out the window and me, finally, paying attention to the road.

***

When we reached the seaside town, I didn’t know where my uncles’ apartment was. I asked her and she snapped, with bite, that since I was little I probably shouldn’t know, that I should ask the grown-ups. I recognized the same spoiled brat she’d always been. After five minutes of driving around, I stopped, made her get out, and left her suitcase on the sidewalk.

While she sat on top of her luggage checking her phone, I texted my aunt. She was surprised that her daughter didn’t know the address, but she gave it to me: we were two minutes away by car. I decided to teach her a lesson. I started the car and drove off. Carla’s face in the rearview mirror was a poem, red with rage and fists clenched.

I parked on a side street so she’d think I’d gone back home. The building had four floors and my uncles’ place was on the top floor. I carried my suitcase up without breaking a sweat; I train almost every day. Just imagining Carla hauling her giant bag up those stairs made me smile.

My aunt opened the door and hugged me. Before anything else, I explained that her daughter was fine, that she’d be up in ten minutes because she’d run into a friend. I gave her a big hug. She looked nothing like Carla except for being blond and fair-skinned: at forty-seven, she had a generous body that I felt plenty of under her loose T-shirt. My uncle, a man in his early fifties with graying hair and a distinguished bearing, got up to say hello.

I offered to go down and help Carla with her suitcase and closed the door so nothing could be heard. I went down slowly, on purpose, and ran into her on the first landing, sweating and out of breath, with three flights still to go. When she saw me, her eyes nearly popped out.

—I thought you’d ditched me, and look at you, all relaxed while I’m sweating my ass off! —she shouted, and tried to hit me.

I caught her wrists and pressed her against the wall, pinning her with my body. I could feel every inch of hers, her blouse stuck to her with sweat, with nothing underneath. I spoke into her ear and felt her skin prickle.

—Your parents know nothing about your tantrum and I’m not going to tell them. This stays between you and me. I told them you ran into a friend: make something up and keep the story going. And let that be the last time you deny me something as simple as an address when I ask you for it.

I pressed a little harder, one of my legs between hers, my mouth almost brushing her ear.

—Do you understand what I want from you?

—Yes… I won’t act like a child again —she whispered.

—You don’t understand. You’ll only act like a child when I want you to.

—All right. Understood.

—We’ll see —I said, and let her go.

She came to hug me and apologize. I wiped away her tears and, without thinking, brought my fingers to my mouth. I kissed her on the cheek, grabbed her suitcase, and told her to smile again, that we were here to have a good time.

—Yes! I thought you’d abandoned me —she said, and the smile came back to her face.

***

My uncles showed us the apartment. There were only two bedrooms: the master bedroom, next to the entrance, and another at the back with a double bed and two single beds on either side. I kept turning over how they’d divide us until my aunt settled it.

—If you don’t mind sharing a room with your cousin, that way you won’t bother anyone when you come back from partying. But if that makes you uncomfortable, your uncle can sleep with you —she said, winking.

—I don’t mind, we’re cousins —I answered.

—You in your bed and me in the biiig one —Carla sang out, and ran off to throw herself onto the middle bed.

I left my suitcase on the single bed by the window. Across from the room, a staircase led up to a rooftop shared with the neighbor, divided only by a fence.

I asked permission to shower, and my aunt almost scolded me: there I was one of the family, no permission needed. I put my clothes in the closet, used two of the top drawers, and went into the bathroom. I closed the window overlooking the inner courtyard, out of modesty, even though the glass was translucent. I took a quick shower and was out in ten minutes.

When I went back into the room to get some flip-flops, I found Carla sitting on her bed with a sour expression.

—What’s wrong, sourpuss?

—You took my drawers. Where am I supposed to put my clothes now?

—I didn’t take anything from you. I used two and you still have three.

—Yeah, but I wanted the top ones so I wouldn’t have to bend down.

I stepped closer, still damp, took her chin, and stopped two centimeters from her face. She opened her eyes wide.

—Do I need to remind you of the stairway conversation? —and I gave her nose a little nibble.

She jumped up, grabbed a few things from her suitcase, and shot into the bathroom.

If I took ten minutes, she’d already been in there almost forty-five. I needed to get in, so I knocked on the door. I heard a quick movement and she came out flushed and breathless, wearing a long T-shirt that barely covered more than the underside of her ass, carrying her clothes in her hand.

I went in. It was hot and humid. When I reached to take my dirty clothes out of the hamper to put them in the washing machine, I found my underwear right on top, when I had left it well hidden underneath. My cousin had been rummaging through my clothes. I stood there, thrown off, not sure whether to feel flattered or embarrassed.

***

We ate rice with squid that my uncle had cooked. Carla went to the beach as soon as we finished. I was wrecked from getting up so early, so I lay down for a nap in the room I shared with her and was out cold almost immediately.

I don’t know whether I was dreaming or awake, in that state where you want to move and the bed won’t let you go. I thought I heard blows against the wall and something else. When I finally came around, I heard it clearly: someone was having a very good time. And it was coming from inside the apartment.

I got up and followed the sound. The door to my uncles’ bedroom was ajar, just a finger’s width of gap through which light seeped out. There was no need to see it to understand it. From the moans and the thumping headboard, my aunt and uncle were taking advantage of the house seeming empty, convinced that their nephew was sleeping like a log and their daughter was still in the sand.

I stood frozen in the hallway, holding my breath, my heart hammering in my ears. I knew I had to go back to bed and yet I couldn’t move. Until, behind me, a damp towel and the smell of shampoo let me know I was no longer alone.

—So this is what you didn’t want me to hear —Carla murmured in my ear, with a smile that was anything but innocent—. Seems like everyone in this house keeps secrets, cousin.

And I knew, in that instant, that summer had truly just begun.