down an ambiguous hallway. The scent of eucalyptus grew stronger inside the house: why? there was no potted plant; then, following Renata’s lead, they reached an (almost) totally yellow room; “Have a seat.” The lady of the house would be coming soon, this said with great feeling. Her predicament, the airs she gave herself, which spread and which those still practicing their apologies in Renata’s presence and in the other’s absence could interpret, under their breath, naturally! and the lass heard them, and was puzzled, until, half an hour later—playing the role of a supposedly portentous diva—Doña Luisa finally appeared. Well, well. Sidelong ironic glances. The jitters, in other words. A generic tension swirled, had to, because whose job would it be to break the ice. The lady of the house with her hint of hostility—or what? One formidable cranky one and a wee repentant trio, this the framework, but it was Doña Zulema who began to hone in on what we can take to be a categorical exoneration as she modulated each idea so thoroughly that her elaborate apology seemed to be but a small piece of a much larger anecdote. The issue of the kiss planted on the back of the hand. The lick of the damsel’s skin as an expression of profound love, that sublime surrender transferred to the tip of the tongue, you must understand the intent, a deeply felt decency that had spilled over into the saliva of that kiss. Doña Zulema had to explain several times that her nephew was a man with the very best of intentions. A believer in everlasting love and more and more such salvos, so many that who knows how, but she began to courageously sweeten the subject and thus slowly departed from her script. Her speech became a treacle tornado. His aunt was dazzling, prodigious, garrulous, until Doña Telma, with studied scruples, tugged on her dress from behind. A warning: somewhat doubtful, silent, to return to what was rehearsed, and the mother, erupting: We are very sorry about what has happened. My son is the model of paramount decency. Theater. The speech practiced (of course) on the bench: back to what was agreed upon. So that the penny would drop for the aunt, and it did because suddenly she hadn’t another word to say. Then came a vacuum, in which nobody even clicked her tongue. In any case, they glanced at one another guiltily, as if wanting to hide. The room seemed to have gotten even yellower than it had been, more infectious, sicklier, uglier.
For a while the apologies continued to proliferate, so much so that the main point got murky; stagnation formed a kind of lagoon. In fact, Doña Telma and Doña Zulema finally began to recite their rehearsed speeches, in turns, with such precision that it could (truly) barely be believed; they were outstanding, agile, though without the slightest emotional charge, without pleasantries, and that’s why Doña Luisa stopped them short: I accept your apologies, but it should never happen again … Now, the one who should apologize is Demetrio, don’t you think? It’s up to him. They threw the big guy a curveball; he was staring at the skilled craftsmanship of the floor tiles and after hearing himself alluded to, said, Me?, and then, Oh, yes!, whereat: I offer the biggest and most complete apology. My intention, when I kissed Renata’s hand, was sincerely affectionate, a tender kiss full of integrity. If I licked her skin it was because I thought of it as an act of devotion. At no moment did it occur to me that I was disrespecting her. So, I repeat my apology. Doña Luisa smiled (smugly) and Renata did too, following her lead. This is where everything should pause. Then, like an undertow, the lady’s apology, with resounding composure: I also ask you to forgive me, Demetrio, for what I said to you. I was desperate. Congratulations.
Nevertheless, the thorniest part remained: the brave act of … Well, aunt and mother turned their vulturelike scowls upon Demetrio; so did Renata; not to mention Doña Luisa. They were waiting for him to come out with what all this had been aiming at: asking for her hand with cloying ardor, all he had to do was utter one well-sequestered sentence to that effect, and they would buoy up the request, elaborating point by point what it would mean for Renata to live by Demetrio’s side: the understanding, the affection, the peace, the secure economic