into the living room: everybody! The man’s height impressed the sisters and their husbands: that future family member who had, so it seemed, a plethora of riches. Moreover, because he himself talked about how his business was making him mountains of money, a business he held up to the heavens and spoke about to all who wished to hear, although he had the tact not to mention the particular business it was: Just buying and selling, this simple fact revealed, even if it was a mysterious and indirect hint at the nature of his affairs. Finally, the family left Renata alone with her great love, and just as each felt the urge to formulate a question, they abstained and the whim wisely vanished. They did well to behave discreetly, ergo: back to work! let’s get on with it! Subconscious praise on its way. And Renata and Demetrio once again alone, now knowing that they would soon stand in front of each other naked and amorous; love like a bubble that would have to burst—finally?! because the truth was, he was eager to kiss his beloved on her cheek, a husband’s legitimate right, but she, repulsing him, reminded him that it was better to wait, that it wouldn’t be long before they could get on with their heavenly depravities. Demetrio wanted to shout in despair but ended up resigned, keeping in check an audible pout. Then, all on his own, he changed the subject, as if the cheekiness of a kiss on the cheek had become meaningless to him: with or without a lick? Bah. The thematic replacement was the truck:
“I drove it here so we can take it to Piedras Negras for our honeymoon.”
“Piedras Negras? What’s that?”
“It’s a gorgeous border city. You’ll soon see.”
Piedras Negras: a phonetic affront worth memorizing. Renata eagerly enunciated the pair of words repeatedly. As it happened, her relatives repeated the name later and imagined the distance between it and Sacramento: hence, an ideal occurrence: Piedras Negras, Piedras Negras, Piedras Negras, like posing a question that conjured up an infinity of answers. This happened in a big way during an episode we won’t even recount, for now let’s focus on something very concrete:
“And those tables arranged in a square bracket?” Demetrio couldn’t refrain from asking when he looked out the window onto the patio.
“That’s where the wedding feast will be.”
“There’ll be a meal?”
“Yes, at two in the afternoon on November fifth, after the Mass.”
“What will we eat?”
“It will be a surprise, but everything will be delicious, I promise you.”
“And the bridesmaids and … ?”
“Don’t bother your head about any of it. You did your part by giving me all that money, and now you needn’t worry about a thing. We are taking care of all the details.”
“What time should I arrive at the church on the day itself?”
Let it be known that there was only one semi-impressive church in Sacramento.
“A few minutes before eleven in the morning.”
It could be that this crucial exchange of information was a way to say that Renata and Demetrio shouldn’t see each other again until their wedding day. This is how the big guy interpreted it, hence he anticipated the instructions his beloved was surely about to give him.
“The next time I see you will be in church. Over, forever, is this timid love that doesn’t suit either of us. Good-bye to love on the bench and love in the living room. Good-bye to immaculate bashfulness. We will now live a love with flying colors, with all kinds of kisses and all manner of touch. Soon you will see, my own dear wife!”
Fortuitous good-bye? Imaginative leisure as long as they didn’t see each other. A broad swath of hours like a spring stretched as far as it would go. Only a tight squeeze of the hand and a see-you-later: so: two ideas as one, almost-almost. Then: one more fantasy-filled day. A fluttering array of multicolored lights. Two faces in the clouds getting closer and closer to exchange a long and slippery kiss.
44
What luck! The wedding day itself dawned rainy—in November? who would believe it, or who thought that if it didn’t rain the marriage would have (no holds barred) a disagreeable destiny. To hell with such superstitions! They always get in the way.
The customers started arriving about one hour before the Mass and stayed to help. Figure about twenty, let’s say, counting by fours: soaking wet. The tears of the tempest looked like mere fluff dusting their clothes, a whitish sheen,