Almost Never: A Novel (36 page)

We understand what a nuisance it was to make the trip, although, on the other hand, the gem she bought justified the sweat. When she arrived home she wanted to spread the dress out on the bed. It took her mother half an hour to give her approval, though when she did so, ah, she began to cry like a baby. Let’s understand her, let’s try to understand her …

R
enata’s sisters were arriving, four women (four blessings) and of course each one accompanied by her respective hale husband. Different travel plans, hence the anticipation, the suspense, the diurnal and nocturnal appearances, and—what a scene!, beds for all, so many bedrooms, even some left over, though don’t think for a minute … Then all the usual rushing about; endless errands, not only the fuss and bother for the wedding feast, but also three meals a day. The more people in the house, the greater the expense: the unforeseen, it turns out, as something tacit. Each sister gave the impression of being a problem-solving phoenix, better to put it in no uncertain terms, for that’s how things were, the adjectives also suited their husbands. Let’s take some examples: they had to gather fifteen square tables and, let’s say, a total of some sixty chairs. The logical question was where to get the tables … let’s see … Relatives lent one or two, some customers also, one by one, or two by two, or mix and match, until reaching the magic aforementioned count; next was to count the number of arms in action, for whatever there was, there was: lots!, and thus they spent three days gathering the fifteen tables, placing them in one row of five, then two other rows of the same number: let’s imagine, then, and from a bird’s eye view, the resulting square bracket on the patio. A square bracket exposed to the wildest winds, which didn’t matter, but rain—in November?, hopefully it wouldn’t rain, not even the merest touch of a squall. Always a risk, though, and—done! … The paradox was for the water in the sky to remain there, as if the sky itself were waiting for the wedding to release its load a few hours thereafter. And the lovely thing is that it turned out exactly as the mother and daughter, as well as the four sisters and their husbands, thought it would:
Don’t rain. Please don’t rain,
that was the prayer under their breath, and no, no, really, no. The request did not depend on the appearance of a saint, it was a secular plea and that was the odd thing. Aha! the longed-for event was coming to pass. And now let’s turn to the china, a colossal feat of borrowing from so many sources. You can include anybody you like, as long as they lived in Sacramento and as long as they offered their help. The result was necessarily a hodgepodge, many kinds of forks, spoons, knives, plates, and cups, and you can add whatever else you’d like. The ease with which all this took place depends on the fact that any customer who lent them anything would be invited to the party, as is only proper, and this unanticipated nuance affected the number of guests. In fact, with each borrowing came another guest, until at one point the mother said:
Not one more guest! We’ll make do with what we have.
They already had plenty, it’s true, as it is also true that Renata and her sisters no longer needed to go house to house with requests, so many procurements after so many days. Enough already!

L
et’s consider Demetrio’s proverbial visit to Renata’s house. A monarch was arriving, one who would be greeted by many maids all in a row: a reception line and smiles all around (diplomacy). But we’d do better to leave that for later, better for now to dig our teeth into what Doña Zulema said cheerfully when Doña Telma and Demetrio arrived at her ancient abode. Just like that, almost without so much as a polite welcome, she said that she had offered to help with the wedding preparations; that she had made herself available a while back, almost pleaded on her knees, somewhere between humble and obsequious, to the now quite largely looming Doña Luisa, who thanked her so graciously, no, there was no need—not at all!, and this should be understood because Doña Luisa stated that Demetrio’s generous contribution was enough of a boon and, as a result, everything else would be handled by the other party: the two women, first and foremost, and the entire family subsequently, as well as some of their customers. But let’s turn to another key moment, that of the arrival of Demetrio and his mother in the shiny blue truck; a blue you’d have to see to believe: modern metallic blue: full fledged blue, and to be fully enjoyed. The trip there was the nasty part: such a jumble of roads! However, the big guy’s sense of direction never failed and hence the (fleet) feat of arriving, exhausted, sick and tired of the bouncing, needless to say, which was now replaced by boasting. The motorized prodigy, then and there, the sight of which would soon send Renata into raptures.

And with no further ado—let’s go! Driving that solvent and haughty blueness through the streets of the town, Demetrio, the one and only king, though: what’s on view is the luxury, not the proud driver; what’s on view is the shining but cautious advance. That’s how it went, believe it or not. The fact was, Demetrio felt haughty, what with all the unwavering stares, all the way to Renata’s house, where—just watch him!—he whistled, a loud whistle, hence, presumptuous. Naturally they’d come running out of the store: Renata, her mother, and two of her sisters, a rip-roaring whistle, long though not piercing. Then, the evidence: the over-the-briny blueness that pulsated and continued to pulsate, like a shooting of hues into the air, really very attention grabbing. And herewith the consequences that came about just right: Renata, her mother, and her sisters, all amazed, as well as the two husbands, soon added to the mix. All in all we have to imagine astonished paralysis. Six watched as the arrogant big guy descended from the vehicle then strode with a steadfast swagger: in their direction, then said, “What’s up?” And we must say he was received with an almost reverential welcome. They invited him 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.

W
hat 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, accumulated shimmerings of light drops, more noticeable if the shirts and blouses hadn’t been white, lucky devils. Then came the relatives hailing from Nadadores and Lamadrid, and they were many. They filled the entrance hall in a flurried rush, almost a logjam, almost a gray mass—could it be a sheepfold full of forty fellows? If that wasn’t the exact number, we are definitely close, and so the following question becomes apt: would all these penned-in people be eating? If so, there wouldn’t be enough seats, wherein arose a problem, the need for restricting numbers when the time was ripe. Vigilance at the entryway—but how? A red-hot unforeseen … alas … At fifteen minutes to eleven the groom arrived with his mother and his aunt. The three were dressed in black, they looked like mourners, but you should know that the color black also symbolizes good fortune, especially if adorned with a flower, and here we evoke coquetry: he with a carnation on his lapel, and Doña Telma and Doña Zulema each with a yellow rose on her bodice. So, black elegance—unique, solemn, warranted … The real event was the arrival of the bride and the bridesmaids and groomsmen and Renata’s sisters with their husbands: a fragrant front, perfumes that swooned when pooled randomly together; an aggregation of nerves, uneven: rising, but then arrived the parish priest draped in green, with his red sextons, and now finally the wedding march began with no music, nor chorus nor anything at all, one had to imagine the sublime sounds of what could have been uplifting, for bringing the music of wind or strings to a parish church, that would have been really expensive. Demetrio didn’t care a whit if he walked to the altar holding his mother’s arm without even one strum of a guitar; he cared more about grabbing for good the green-eyed gal than about the rise and fall of any harmony whatsoever.

E
ven so, the march—ascendant, rhythmic, pompous, a bit dramatic or however you wish to interpret it. Let’s consider the altar as the symbol of limpid purity, full of glory—right? or something like it? Let’s imagine, therefore, a tremendous sacred heart, which was opening, in other words, let’s imagine something of the sort, even if it’s not true, ergo: the crystallization of love. Or rather: reaching the bosom of the bosom, but first Renata had to walk holding the arm of one of the groomsmen, a really ugly old guy. She was taking supernervous steps, much more so than Demetrio, who was barely watching where he stepped, instead turning often to look at his mother, whose face was full of hope, more than ever before, her eyebrows pitched as if wanting to form an arrow … What was she thinking about? We can venture to guess a logical longing: her daughters; the ones who lived in the United States; the ones who didn’t come; the ones who had to get to Parras and then travel to Sacramento: a real drag, not for them but for their gringo husbands, but, well, let’s say that for now we must turn our attention to the affected stride of those walking. And finally the bride and groom’s encounter at the most important moment of the prayer; the rest of the parading people found places along the two front benches, each one—such precision!—had their very own prie-dieu, as did the bride and groom.

We’re going to dispense with the various stages of the Mass and the agreeable duties performed by the bridesmaids and groomsmen so we can focus (a bit) on the sermon given by the four-eyed priest, who wished to show off his elucidation of a definitive union’s imponderables in a shrill voice. He mentioned the many children, if possible the founding of a battalion, or if we must point out without naming the fever the four-eyed man was alluding to, then let’s at least clarify the allusion, as follows: each holy lying-together should bring about a treasured issue. Yes, yes, he didn’t say it so crassly, but in a roundabout way, that’s what could be understood … He also spoke about comprehension, the sweet communication between the spouses, that at all times God would be taking notes, in other words—no shouting whatsoever! If you like, pure treacles of tenderness for all eternity. And you can guess the subsequent eulogies: a rosary of good things, apt and honeyed advice, if we can call it that.