With my parents though, they never judged me.They understood in some ways that life doesn’t alwayshand you things in a neat package. It dollops them outhere and there in messy, confusing splatters, and whenyou see something amazing, you better drop what you’redoing and hold on with two hands. They know why Iheld on to Vera when I came across her and why I stillhaven’t let go. They know that true love only comes byonce, or twice, if you’re really lucky.
My father was one of the especially lucky ones. Helost the love of his life—my mother—and though it tookten years, he finally found Carmen. He never gave uphope or faith that he would find someone else for him.
We are joined by Lucia, who has come straightfrom her new job at one of the television stations. She’slively and talkative, and drinks most of the wine, but Ican’t help but retreat into myself, lost in thought. Timeslike this, with my family, trick me into thinking the pathVera and I have chosen is an easy one. It makes mecrave the warmth of a house, of a future, of my ownflesh and blood.
I stare across the table at Vera as she brushes awayward strand of hair behind her ear, her other handtucked under her chin, her smile and kind eyes focusedon Lucia as she describes her day to us with crazy handgestures. I’m not getting any younger, but neither isVera. I’m not with her just for the moment, she is notjust a passing fancy. I want Vera by my side for the restof my life.
It’s scary to think about. Not the commitment. Youwould think that after one marriage and a bitter divorce,I would have sworn off the whole concept of marriage.But my situation with Isabel never tainted the institutionfor me. It’s something I still believe in. If anything, Ibelieve more in getting it right.
I want to get it right with Vera. It’s a luxury I rarelylet myself think about because there are so manyunknowns, so many variables. That is what is so scaryabout it. What does Vera want? She’s only twenty-four—she hasn’t once mentioned marriage or children, oreven talked about that far into the future. It’s probablythose reasons why she feels so temporary sometimes.
But I don’t want that anymore. I want her here, withme, permanently. I don’t want there to be any fears overwhether she’ll be around, allowed to stay in the countryor otherwise. I don’t want any doubts when I think about my future. I want toknow she’ll be there with me with that same infectiouslaugh that makes my heart sing, her view of the worldthat challenges mine and makes me face toward thelight.
All that aside though, all my needs and my wantsand the things I dare dream about, is the fact that I don’twant to scare her off. I don’t want to push anything onher that she may not be open to. Sometimes she feelslike she’s on a different path than mine. I want to makesure this is something she wants on her own.
She catches me watching her, and a wash ofunderstanding slides over her eyes. I think for a momentthat perhaps this is her, wanting it, but then I realize sheis not a mind reader.
“Mateo got some interesting news today,” she says,as if I was prompting her.
I feel the eyes of everyone on me. I raise my browsat Vera. It’s true that I was going to tell them aboutAtlético’s offer, but now it seems trivial compared to myprevious thoughts. Even though it’s the chance toreclaim my career, to work for passion, that onlysolidifies what I want.
I clear my throat. “Well, I had a meeting with theowner and general manager of Atlético today.”
Everyone snaps to attention. I hadn’t mentioned tothem the previous times I met with them in case it turnedout to be nothing, so this is a bit out of the blue. Itexplains how Lucia’s groomed eyebrows seem halfwayup her forehead.
“What about?” Carmen asks, her tone high andhesitant.
I shrug casually. “They asked me if I would becomecoach in January to replace Diego. He’s going toArgentina. I have until Friday to decide.”
They are stunned. More stunned than when I firsttold them I was getting a divorce. Finally my father says,“Took the fools long enough.”
They are excited, happier for me than perhaps I am.They all think I could make a difference, that I’ll do anexcellent job, that I was meant for the position. They arenot wrong in any of this.
Vera is staring at me, her red lips quirked up to theside, her eyes shining. She looks like a girl and awoman, and I want nothing more than to make herproud. I want to embrace this change but only if she’sthere every step of the way.
Later, after we’ve all eaten the custard confectionthat Carmen prepared for dessert and we’re all sittingaround with tiny glasses of my father’s favorite cognac,Lucia pulls me aside. She takes me to the balconyoverlooking the gardens of the backyard and the fishpond, and pulls out a cigarette.
“I thought you quit,” I note, eyeing it disdainfullyas she lights up. Still, I can’t help but breathe in that firsthint of burning tobacco paper before it disappears intothe smell of tired heat and the fresh scent of theneighbourhood sprinklers as they whir in the night.
She rolls her eyes in a way that makes her look likea teenager. “I took it up again after Alvarez cheated onme.”
Ah yes, things didn’t end so well with her latestboyfriend. Not that I was surprised, since the man was anotorious player close to my age, one of those start-upbusiness millionaires. Lucia doesn’t seem to care mucheither, maybe that was part of the problem.
“When are you going to find a good man, someoneto settle down with?”
She laughs caustically at this and purses her lips asshe eyes me expectantly. “When are you going to settledown?”
I narrow my eyes. “I am newly divorced, Lucia.”
She tilts her head to the side but her expressiondoesn’t change. “We all know that. And the reason youare newly divorced, Mateo…I saw the way you look ather tonight. Every time I see you, it is always the same.”
I raise my hand to stop her and look out at the darkfoliage of the backyard and the lights of the nearesthouses. “Don’t compare it to food because I’ve heardthat one before.”
“You’re in love with her,” she says.
I shake my head. “Your powers of deduction areimpressive.”
“No, Mateo,” she says, and her voice is suddenlyserious. “I mean, really in love. You’re going to ask herto marry you, aren’t you?”
Her words shock me, and I quickly eye the house tomake sure no one is listening. “Can you not say that soloudly?” I ask, annoyed, more so that she’s figured meout than the fact she’s being so blunt about it.