+ uno
"solamente se que yo contigo quiero estar."
(i only know that i want to be with you.)
"Are you sure she'll pick me up? What if she doesn't come? Then what will I do?" I said into the old payphone with very visible hints of nervousness on my face as my eyes scanned the crowded area. The airport in Mexico City was something confusing to me. All the signs around me were in Spanish, which was something I wasn't used to, despite speaking the language and there were bustling crowds of people everywhere the eyes could see. I was used to seeing everything in English, having lived in the United States all my life and it was a regular thing to see everyone speaking to each other in English. This was like travelling to an entirely different world. A world where everyone only spoke Spanish.
From the other line, my older brother replied with a hint of annoyance tinging his words, "Yes, Belen. She said she'll be there to pick you up when you arrive. The family are the ones paying for your flight and accommodations, I would think they'd be punctual. It can only affect them if you have to come back to the US." It was about the billionth time I had asked him the same question.
Our parents had founded a translation agency when they were in their twenties, having both studied translation and communications when they were in university, which currently had opened a branch in which they taught different languages to people in different parts of the world. Now that they were in their forties, they had enough money to retire comfortably and my brother Van Daniel had taken over, at twenty five years old. At twenty years old myself, and fresh out of college with an associates degree, he had promised me a spot in the agency. And my very first assignment had been in Mexico City with a woman whose husband wanted to learn to speak English because they'd be moving to the United States in a few months. Lucky for me, I was ready and available to make the trip across the border into the Mexican capitol.
Just as I was about to reply, I saw a woman with a sign in her hands that read Anna Belen Santos. She was dressed in elegant clothing, her golden blonde hair concealed perfectly and her eyes were hidden away behind sunglasses despite being inside a fully lit building.
"Found her." I grinned from my end.
"You can thank me later for this." Van Daniel said and I could practically see the smirk on his face though we were in two different countries at the moment.
Confused, I asked, "What do you mean?"
"You'll see." He stated simply before hanging up and the line went dead.
I walked over to the woman slowly and hesitantly. She was a petite woman who even appeared secretive in her stance, like she didn't want to be noticed. My brother's words echoed in my mind as I tried to figure out if I knew who she was. But considering what he said, there was a high chance that she or her husband were people I had seen on television and probably even admired.
When I approached her, she smiled at me warmly, removing her sunglasses to reveal herself. She was even more stunning than she had initially seemed when I walked up. "You must be Anna. There are hundreds of agencies here in Mexico, but I heard stellar recommendations about your family's agency, and my husband wants to learn English, so we thought we'd give this a try."
Her voice was melodic and soft as she spoke to me in Spanish.
We shook hands while I nodded my head in confirmation, "Yes, my name is Anna Belen, but at home I mostly just go by Belen. You must be..." I trailed off, wracking my brain for a recollection. Van Daniel had told me her name, it was a name that had sounded familiar too, and a name I had read on their file once before travelling to Mexico. But at the moment my mind was blanked.
