In the wake of her foolish outburst, Gloria turned tender. She couldn’t figure out how to look good in the far-gone eyes of her sister, who kept pounding away at the pedaclass="underline" if she docilely repeated that same meek and innocent sentence, it’s because she didn’t want to gloat over her triumph, which also explains the extent of her conscious restraint.
“Forgive me, sister dearest … I do wish you all the best: I want you to have the most wonderful time ever. I know that all your pleasures and rejoicings will also be mine.”
Herewith a scene of relative closure, each with her own notions looking for subterfuges, paths that would lead them to the core of their own pet daydream, or to a false principle, wherever the power of suggestion reigns.
The interim. Working like rodents, for it was silence that held sway.
All the while, customers came and left, gracious and grateful, like an apocryphal procession of manikins and marionettes. The shop: the setting, and the sisters, each in her own way, pondering separations as well as surprising alliances. About the wedding: say no more; about the toss of the coin: not that either; about luck: maybe … Throughout these fateful days: they ate, they worked very hard in complete silence. Words: only those that were absolutely essential. There was one sentence — at night: just before bed, here’s what Gloria said:
“I hope you come back with good news; I’m going to sleep peacefully, for what is yours is mine, as you well know.”
Full stop, next scene, the day of reckoning.
Constitución left. Her sister stood at the door to the shop and raised her hand to bid farewell. There is always a first time. Always a tearing, loose threads dangling … But Gloria remained stubborn:
“Have a great time and say hi to everybody for me, I hope you bring back—”
She didn’t finish because her sister quickly placed distance between them: such a small and indifferent figure she made. Only an indistinct echo remained in the air. Then: intimacy as an idea that unravels.
Here, her equal, the part that didn’t go: no tears or futile stratagems, no mannerisms, only the closing of ranks and strong convictions. And a quick return to take a look around the work space: a concrete desert filled with squalor and lacking air. Nascent longing and the word absence seeping into the sewing machines.
Chin up! for it’s ten o’clock in the morning and a work-day, and no matter what, the customers keep placing more orders, paying down a deposit or the whole amount up front.
The unfilled orders. So much to do, and along came someone who asked the inevitable, “Where’s your sister?” and the response was necessarily friendly though laced with a certain trace of evasiveness. Many other such questions ensued, which she answered between clenched teeth. The barrage of interrogations let up only in the afternoon when Gloria closed the door and continued pedaling till midnight. Alone, self-contained, restrained.
The action started just as her fatigue set in, at bedtime. She imagined the shindig, the enveloping music, and her sister sitting on a chair, alone, silent, a woodpecker perched on a branch, a toy bird, poised and waiting for a polite man of reasonable height to ask her to dance, but not even the midgets bothered. Lying in bed, Gloria conjured that sad scene, suffered in her own flesh the moment her aunt approached to try to coax her out, lead her enthusiastically over to the heart of the wedding party: the young newlyweds mingling, the toasts, the Cheers! Where everyone was milling. Where shoulders were rubbed and introductions made …
That opportunity, that moment, aah … Gloria closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. Inside, in her mind, there was a series of reversals, furtive exchanges, evocative stencils of bodies in full abandon. Then, as things unfolded, improbable shapes arose out of somewhere: soft and gentle nakedness …
Untethered, floating, alone and bewildered. Then the couplings: in a blue space, Gloria kissing an otherworldly man, surrendering fully to the initiative his hands and tongue were taking, while her twin staggered around with mouth agape, unable to get anywhere near no matter how hard she tried. Yes, then a sequel with a smoky hue, a pursuit, and proximity: melting into an illusive silhouette of passion and desire: hence, only a tiny taste of satisfaction. Insinuations of such vast pleasure! How unattainable, though, for both of them!
/
Welcome to the wedding … What a lovely dress! Why didn’t the other one come? Yes, I understand, now you’ll have a better chance of finding a man. Best thing to do is just smile, at everybody …
/
Handshakes fade. Dance steps and glasses breaking. Swirls of laughter and dropped words. It smells like alcohol, meat, a little bit of a lot of things … Swoons, faces, blurry figures, and her aunt keeping an eagle eye out … from the shadows, at a certain distance, because that’s how it should be done …
/
It all started up again the morning her sister bustled into Ocampo: her hair down and her silhouette suddenly framed in the doorway of the shop. Gloria, to avoid an effusive greeting, pretended not to see her, sat steadfastly at her machine, the pedal going below, focused on the next stitch and the one after that; she probably had a good excuse, or — how to put it? — was formulating one.
She had the habit, as did the other, of keeping her eyes on her work except when a customer spoke to her; a quirk like that can be advantageous, and that goes for both of them, because losing one’s concentration under those circumstances could even cause an accident. Knowing this, her sister didn’t say a word, preferring to approach quietly, so she removed her high-heeled shoes and left her bag where it was. Once in front of the other, she uttered her best sentence ever:
“I danced all night with a slender man of interesting age.”
At that, the loser, both incredulous and wary, looked up. Eyes meet by way of divination, and embarrassment: eyes no longer identicaclass="underline" not now: then a tremulous lapse that seemed to last too long; the one sitting down now more tentative, and the one with her hair down, racier. But Gloria laughed as if the dance didn’t matter at all, for according to her, it was nothing but a trap, though in fact: a spiteful and invidious guffaw, that then ended: when:
“He’s coming to the shop next Sunday; I gave him this address. The plan is to go for a stroll. I think I’ll take him to the walnut grove at the edge of town.”
For a brief instant Gloria wanted to remind her of their agreement, about how what was yours was mine and vice versa, but then she thought it better to listen, knowing that one had to be astute when it came to affairs of the heart: or, as ranchers say, sneaky as a snake. The other, in the meantime, was excited, and with her sister’s implicit permission told the whole story from beginning to end. The encounter, the wedding as setting.
A bold exchange of glances that insinuates restiveness and invites approach, sweet words in short supply: from one to the other and back again in a move to tantalize, to kiss: why not? Though in this case: wait! for Constitución, based on her aunt’s advice, it was important to first learn something about the man’s background and social standing.
Along those same lines: let the suitor’s true intentions come to light over time. Considering her age and considering her other baggage, she shouldn’t go losing her head over some momentary fling.