Categories > Original > Romance > Fruta de la pasión
Ch 20 - Good company
0 reviewsAlejandro reminisces the following of the party at Araceli's, years ago
0Unrated
"Dinner was excellent, Doña Araceli," Alejandro told her, "...as always... Congratulations to your cook."
"I'll make sure to convey them to her, Don Alejandro."
"And the wines were perfect to accompany it," he added.
He really wanted to steer the conversation on the subject of wine, but didn't want to seem too obvious. He knew that if he appeared too eager, he'd have the lower hand in the negotiations, and he really, really wanted to get his wine from her in the future. But if ever she knew how much he wanted to quit trading with the Vasquez brothers, he wouldn't obtain the good prices he expected from her. That's why he really had to look detached in bringing up the topic.
"Perfect indeed, Araceli," Doña Faustina agreed.
Her husband was talking with some others of his sister's guests on the other side of the sala about a topic that had already been discussed during dinner: some poor peon of the vicinity had been imprisoned the day before for not paying his taxes, and in the afternoon it was heard that he had been released thanks to someone paying his debt.
Near the piano a third group of guests burst out laughing about some apparently amusing thing Villegas just said.
Honestly! Alejandro thought, was the man really that funny, or were these people only trying to be in Doña Araceli's good graces through flattering her 'good friend' Don Cesar?
Then one of the guests approached the three of them:
"Don Alejandro, I see you're in really charming company," he said. "Doubly charming..." he added, bowing to each of the two ladies who acknowledged the polite compliment with a nod and a smile. "What a lucky man you are! But we might all get jealous if you keep the two most radiant stars of this night to yourself!"
"I assure you I wouldn't dare deprive the rest of the party here of these ladies' company."
Then Señores Ximénez and Villegas both joined them as Don Alejandro put his glass on the mantelpiece. As he stood beside his very lovely wife, Don Gaspar looked pensively at his sister and Don Cesar; precisely at this same moment the young man leaned toward his mistress's ear and, with a knowing air, he murmured six words Alejandro managed to catch, even though he didn't understand their hidden meaning:
"I know what you've done."
z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z
Alejandro had finally managed to have his hostess to himself for a few minutes in a corner of the patio now lit by a few torches, and to start testing the waters – well, so to speak – about the kind of wine she could sell him, the quantities and the price.
"Well, it will depend on the amount, Don Alejandro."
"And the amount will depend on your price, Doña Araceli..." he answered with a twinkle in his eyes.
"We're going round in circles here, my dear friend..." she said with a small smile. "All right," she then decided, "I'll take the first step: two hundred reals for a barrel of fourteen cantarás."
"Two hundred! Oh, Doña Araceli, surely you're not serious," Alejandro said, tilting his head to the side with a small smile.
"I am, Don Alejandro, as you surely well know," she answered mirroring his smile and with a pointed look in her twinkling eyes.
They'd been playing that game each time they discussed prices over the past two years now, so they were beginning to know what to expect from the opposite part in these situations. And they were enjoying it quite a bit now, not unlike two musicians improvising on a rather well known melody, each of them answering the other's latest musical phrase with a variation of his own.
"But that would make almost fifteen reals the cantará, Señora," he pointed out.
"If barrels are too much for you Don Alejandro, I can make an offer of sixty reals for a keg."
"Now I know you're joking, Doña Araceli," he said, punctuating his remark by pointing his index finger up and giving her a broad smile.
"You fairly well know I never joke as far as business is concerned, my dear friend," she replied, playfully mimicking his stance. "And I'm sure you certainly didn't receive a better proposition this afternoon. You met with the Vasquezes, didn't you? A little bird told me so..."
While pleasantly talking, they walked away from the patio without even realising it and ended up wandering in the garden.
"Really?" he asked, theatrically raising one eyebrow but not overly surprised deep down. After all, he hadn't tried to keep his comings and goings secret since his arrival.
"Really," she answered. "I keep a close interest, you know."
"In my comings and goings when I'm in San Diego?" he asked. "I'm flattered, Señora. But as you certainly already know, you won't find anything either secret or compromising about me..."
She smiled at this idea.
"Oh, and why that? Because there is indeed nothing to find, or because all your skeletons are too well hidden behind the doors of seemingly insignificant closets?"
This time they both laughed heartily. What a preposterous idea!
"Really Doña Araceli," he chuckled, "I'm afraid I'm far more uninteresting and bland than you seem to imagine... Contrary to what you suggest, there's nothing much taleworthy about the life I'm leading... Just an old man and a quiet haciendado who's taking some business trips from time to time to prepare a good future for his son..."
"An old man...? Where?" she playfully asked, acting surprised, looking right and left. "Here in my garden? I haven't seen him."
Alejandro smiled.
"You're too kind, Doña Araceli. But my son is now an adult, which makes me an elder, as much as I dislike this idea..." he said with a pout which, on the contrary, made him look very childlike. "...In other words, an 'ancient', for people of your generation..."
"I certainly don't like hearing you call yourself that, and I don't want you to have such ideas!" she said in a playfully reproachful tone. "You know, my parents say that age is all in the head!"
Alejandro laughed.
"That's generally what people who deny their age say! No offense intended to your parents, though: I must admit I'm very often like them in that regard. But honesty makes me tell you that age is also unfortunately in the joints..."
"Precisely," Señora Ximénez de Valdès retorted. "Didn't you just take a very long two days horseride here? Seems to me you're still in a fine condition, then... A true young man!"
"I guess I can only yield to the logic of your reasoning, Señora," he said, bowing to her with an amused – but pleased – smile on his lips.
"But getting back to what you said, you can rest assured: I'm not spying on you or on your comings and goings, Don Alejandro. I'm just interested in you," she explained, "as in all my customers and business partners," she added. "That's all."
"I'm honoured by your interest, Doña Araceli," he graciously replied. "And I am sorry to disappoint you, but I assure you there is no hidden skeleton in my closets! I'm just as plain and boring as an open book!"
"Why do you think books should be boring, Don Alejandro? And anyway, no one is an open book: nobody is truly deep down who they seem to be on the outside, in the onlookers' eyes..."
"Do you really think so?" he said. "So tell me, Doña Araceli, what are your hidden skeletons?" he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Oh, as you may know, my skeletons are all out in the open," she answered in an amused smile, "they have been for years. For all eyes to see."
Indeed, Alejandro thought: the whole of the town knew that she and her late husband – may his soul rest in peace – had been separated for years before his death eighteen months earlier and even prior to her four-years-old settlement in San Diego. It must have been quite a shocker and a scandal at the time. But why did the spouses come to the drastic and very rare measure that was judicial separation? No one here seemed to know the details. Or perhaps Don Cesar did?
Come to think of him, she didn't either make a big secret of the fact that she had... well... a love life. That she sometimes had a relationship, a liaison with a male 'good friend'. Such as Señor Villegas or Lieutenant Alcalá before him; and perhaps some other before, even prior to her estranged husband's death.
So yes, once all this was out in the open, what else could she still hide that would shock the public eye? The reason behind her and her husband's separation, perhaps?
"As a matter of fact," Alejandro dared asking, "you've never told me why you and Señor Valdès..."
He let his unfinished question hang in the air, realising only too late that he had gone too far.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled as he saw her become immediately serious, a sad and awkward look on her face. "I'm terribly sorry," he murmured, "I don't know what got into me. I really shouldn't have asked this. Please forget I ever did... I'm sorry–"
"No," she cut him, looking down, "no, please don't be." She raised her head. Her eyes were clearly not seeing what was right in front of them, but were lost far away in the past. "Perhaps one day I'll tell you this very simple story..." she added in a quietly pensive voice, "who knows..."
"My apologies, Señora," Alejandro repeated. "That was terribly rude of me. I never should have brought up the subject."
"Apologies accepted, Don Alejandro. I'm aware the topic has been much talked about at the time, and again when I moved in San Diego. I'm used to it. I had simply forgotten it was still a subject of wonder even now... You see, to me all this seems to be so far ago, now..."
"Still, it was very inappropriate of me, I shouldn't have brought back such sad and painful memories for you. I didn't mean to hurt you, and I'm sure whatever happened was none of your fault."
"Then you're wrong, Don Alejandro," she quietly but firmly said. "In fact it was entirely my fault. I'm the one to blame for this marriage ever happening in the first place, so its failure is logically my responsibility. I was just a foolish and selfish spoiled girl when I was young..."
She went silent. Alejandro didn't dare say anything. He chided himself: he had ruined the pleasant atmosphere of banter they had established a few minutes earlier. What an idiot! Why did he have to so rudely bring up that obviously very private and sensitive matter? How stupid he had been! What had gotten into him?
"Perhaps one day I'll tell you about it," she repeated with a poor little smile. "Just not tonight." She suddenly looked at him mischievously: "Tonight is for good wine, good talks... and good business of course!"
"And good company," Alejandro completed, elegantly gesturing to his hostess and bowing his head playfully.
She had a real and true smile for him. Not just this polite and almost mechanical smile she had often used with him or her other guests tonight, but a smile that came from deep inside and radiated through her eyes even before curving her lips up.
"Good company indeed, Don Alejandro," she echoed. "Now let's get back to business: two hundred for a barrel of Rioja is a good offer, and you know it."
"I'll make sure to convey them to her, Don Alejandro."
"And the wines were perfect to accompany it," he added.
He really wanted to steer the conversation on the subject of wine, but didn't want to seem too obvious. He knew that if he appeared too eager, he'd have the lower hand in the negotiations, and he really, really wanted to get his wine from her in the future. But if ever she knew how much he wanted to quit trading with the Vasquez brothers, he wouldn't obtain the good prices he expected from her. That's why he really had to look detached in bringing up the topic.
"Perfect indeed, Araceli," Doña Faustina agreed.
Her husband was talking with some others of his sister's guests on the other side of the sala about a topic that had already been discussed during dinner: some poor peon of the vicinity had been imprisoned the day before for not paying his taxes, and in the afternoon it was heard that he had been released thanks to someone paying his debt.
Near the piano a third group of guests burst out laughing about some apparently amusing thing Villegas just said.
Honestly! Alejandro thought, was the man really that funny, or were these people only trying to be in Doña Araceli's good graces through flattering her 'good friend' Don Cesar?
Then one of the guests approached the three of them:
"Don Alejandro, I see you're in really charming company," he said. "Doubly charming..." he added, bowing to each of the two ladies who acknowledged the polite compliment with a nod and a smile. "What a lucky man you are! But we might all get jealous if you keep the two most radiant stars of this night to yourself!"
"I assure you I wouldn't dare deprive the rest of the party here of these ladies' company."
Then Señores Ximénez and Villegas both joined them as Don Alejandro put his glass on the mantelpiece. As he stood beside his very lovely wife, Don Gaspar looked pensively at his sister and Don Cesar; precisely at this same moment the young man leaned toward his mistress's ear and, with a knowing air, he murmured six words Alejandro managed to catch, even though he didn't understand their hidden meaning:
"I know what you've done."
z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z
Alejandro had finally managed to have his hostess to himself for a few minutes in a corner of the patio now lit by a few torches, and to start testing the waters – well, so to speak – about the kind of wine she could sell him, the quantities and the price.
"Well, it will depend on the amount, Don Alejandro."
"And the amount will depend on your price, Doña Araceli..." he answered with a twinkle in his eyes.
"We're going round in circles here, my dear friend..." she said with a small smile. "All right," she then decided, "I'll take the first step: two hundred reals for a barrel of fourteen cantarás."
"Two hundred! Oh, Doña Araceli, surely you're not serious," Alejandro said, tilting his head to the side with a small smile.
"I am, Don Alejandro, as you surely well know," she answered mirroring his smile and with a pointed look in her twinkling eyes.
They'd been playing that game each time they discussed prices over the past two years now, so they were beginning to know what to expect from the opposite part in these situations. And they were enjoying it quite a bit now, not unlike two musicians improvising on a rather well known melody, each of them answering the other's latest musical phrase with a variation of his own.
"But that would make almost fifteen reals the cantará, Señora," he pointed out.
"If barrels are too much for you Don Alejandro, I can make an offer of sixty reals for a keg."
"Now I know you're joking, Doña Araceli," he said, punctuating his remark by pointing his index finger up and giving her a broad smile.
"You fairly well know I never joke as far as business is concerned, my dear friend," she replied, playfully mimicking his stance. "And I'm sure you certainly didn't receive a better proposition this afternoon. You met with the Vasquezes, didn't you? A little bird told me so..."
While pleasantly talking, they walked away from the patio without even realising it and ended up wandering in the garden.
"Really?" he asked, theatrically raising one eyebrow but not overly surprised deep down. After all, he hadn't tried to keep his comings and goings secret since his arrival.
"Really," she answered. "I keep a close interest, you know."
"In my comings and goings when I'm in San Diego?" he asked. "I'm flattered, Señora. But as you certainly already know, you won't find anything either secret or compromising about me..."
She smiled at this idea.
"Oh, and why that? Because there is indeed nothing to find, or because all your skeletons are too well hidden behind the doors of seemingly insignificant closets?"
This time they both laughed heartily. What a preposterous idea!
"Really Doña Araceli," he chuckled, "I'm afraid I'm far more uninteresting and bland than you seem to imagine... Contrary to what you suggest, there's nothing much taleworthy about the life I'm leading... Just an old man and a quiet haciendado who's taking some business trips from time to time to prepare a good future for his son..."
"An old man...? Where?" she playfully asked, acting surprised, looking right and left. "Here in my garden? I haven't seen him."
Alejandro smiled.
"You're too kind, Doña Araceli. But my son is now an adult, which makes me an elder, as much as I dislike this idea..." he said with a pout which, on the contrary, made him look very childlike. "...In other words, an 'ancient', for people of your generation..."
"I certainly don't like hearing you call yourself that, and I don't want you to have such ideas!" she said in a playfully reproachful tone. "You know, my parents say that age is all in the head!"
Alejandro laughed.
"That's generally what people who deny their age say! No offense intended to your parents, though: I must admit I'm very often like them in that regard. But honesty makes me tell you that age is also unfortunately in the joints..."
"Precisely," Señora Ximénez de Valdès retorted. "Didn't you just take a very long two days horseride here? Seems to me you're still in a fine condition, then... A true young man!"
"I guess I can only yield to the logic of your reasoning, Señora," he said, bowing to her with an amused – but pleased – smile on his lips.
"But getting back to what you said, you can rest assured: I'm not spying on you or on your comings and goings, Don Alejandro. I'm just interested in you," she explained, "as in all my customers and business partners," she added. "That's all."
"I'm honoured by your interest, Doña Araceli," he graciously replied. "And I am sorry to disappoint you, but I assure you there is no hidden skeleton in my closets! I'm just as plain and boring as an open book!"
"Why do you think books should be boring, Don Alejandro? And anyway, no one is an open book: nobody is truly deep down who they seem to be on the outside, in the onlookers' eyes..."
"Do you really think so?" he said. "So tell me, Doña Araceli, what are your hidden skeletons?" he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Oh, as you may know, my skeletons are all out in the open," she answered in an amused smile, "they have been for years. For all eyes to see."
Indeed, Alejandro thought: the whole of the town knew that she and her late husband – may his soul rest in peace – had been separated for years before his death eighteen months earlier and even prior to her four-years-old settlement in San Diego. It must have been quite a shocker and a scandal at the time. But why did the spouses come to the drastic and very rare measure that was judicial separation? No one here seemed to know the details. Or perhaps Don Cesar did?
Come to think of him, she didn't either make a big secret of the fact that she had... well... a love life. That she sometimes had a relationship, a liaison with a male 'good friend'. Such as Señor Villegas or Lieutenant Alcalá before him; and perhaps some other before, even prior to her estranged husband's death.
So yes, once all this was out in the open, what else could she still hide that would shock the public eye? The reason behind her and her husband's separation, perhaps?
"As a matter of fact," Alejandro dared asking, "you've never told me why you and Señor Valdès..."
He let his unfinished question hang in the air, realising only too late that he had gone too far.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled as he saw her become immediately serious, a sad and awkward look on her face. "I'm terribly sorry," he murmured, "I don't know what got into me. I really shouldn't have asked this. Please forget I ever did... I'm sorry–"
"No," she cut him, looking down, "no, please don't be." She raised her head. Her eyes were clearly not seeing what was right in front of them, but were lost far away in the past. "Perhaps one day I'll tell you this very simple story..." she added in a quietly pensive voice, "who knows..."
"My apologies, Señora," Alejandro repeated. "That was terribly rude of me. I never should have brought up the subject."
"Apologies accepted, Don Alejandro. I'm aware the topic has been much talked about at the time, and again when I moved in San Diego. I'm used to it. I had simply forgotten it was still a subject of wonder even now... You see, to me all this seems to be so far ago, now..."
"Still, it was very inappropriate of me, I shouldn't have brought back such sad and painful memories for you. I didn't mean to hurt you, and I'm sure whatever happened was none of your fault."
"Then you're wrong, Don Alejandro," she quietly but firmly said. "In fact it was entirely my fault. I'm the one to blame for this marriage ever happening in the first place, so its failure is logically my responsibility. I was just a foolish and selfish spoiled girl when I was young..."
She went silent. Alejandro didn't dare say anything. He chided himself: he had ruined the pleasant atmosphere of banter they had established a few minutes earlier. What an idiot! Why did he have to so rudely bring up that obviously very private and sensitive matter? How stupid he had been! What had gotten into him?
"Perhaps one day I'll tell you about it," she repeated with a poor little smile. "Just not tonight." She suddenly looked at him mischievously: "Tonight is for good wine, good talks... and good business of course!"
"And good company," Alejandro completed, elegantly gesturing to his hostess and bowing his head playfully.
She had a real and true smile for him. Not just this polite and almost mechanical smile she had often used with him or her other guests tonight, but a smile that came from deep inside and radiated through her eyes even before curving her lips up.
"Good company indeed, Don Alejandro," she echoed. "Now let's get back to business: two hundred for a barrel of Rioja is a good offer, and you know it."
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