Evenings at the Argentine Club

by Julia Amante

  She brushed decoration ribbon off her sweater. “Your ambition is what I loved most about you. But after so many years… I just can’t compete with it anymore. I want peace.”

  Swallowing the lump in his throat, he nodded. The last thing he was going to have in the next couple of years was peace. Not with all the restaurants opening. “Jaqueline, I don’t know what to say. We’ve been married for so long. I’ve loved you since I was a boy. I don’t know how to let you go.”

  “You’re going to have a huge business to run and all this money to spend.” She paused. “I know you, Victor. You’ll be so busy, you won’t think of me often.”

  Oh, God. He was going to be sick. He was actually light-headed. “Jaqueline. Please. Give me one more chance. Give me some time to show you I can be different. That I can do both—be a businessman and a husband. I’ll take lots of time off to relax from the pressures of the business world. We can get to know each other again. Then if there’s truly nothing left, I’ll concede.”

  A smile crept to her lips. “Don’t you ever give up on anything?”

  “Yes, but not on you. I adore you, mi vida, and I’m so close to giving you everything I promised.”

  “Victor, I don’t want—”

  “I’m not talking about things. I’m talking about what I promised in our wedding vows. Love, fidelity, cherishment, my heart. Let me try again.”

  She didn’t exactly agree, but she didn’t disagree. And she didn’t bring up the terrible word divorce again. This gave him hope. And he’d take what he could get.

  Jaqueline hurried home from the club because she’d promised to watch Hugo’s children while he did some last-minute Christmas shopping. He had been dropping them off every once in a while, and she enjoyed it. The kids brought life back to the house. She made them special treats and spoiled them, and pretended for just a little while that they were her own grandkids.

  “Watch this,” Daisy said, showing off one of her ballerina moves.

  August reclined in a chair, playing an electronic game.

  “Very good, Daisy. I’m glad your father enrolled you in ballet class.”

  “Me, too.”

  Hugo was a good father. She wished Victor had taken this kind of notice of her girls. But he hadn’t had to. She had done it all. And it had worked out. At least now that they were women, Victor paid more attention to them. She was sensing a change. A thrilling change. Victor wasn’t just doing what he was supposed to do. He seemed to really want to spend time with his daughters. He was so excited about working with Victoria again, and about Carmen coming home for Christmas in a few days.

  “Miss Jaqueline, are you watching?” Daisy said as she spun.

  “I’m watching,” she said, and applauded. She looked at the boy again and stood. “Okay, let’s go to the kitchen. We’re going to make dinner together.”

  Daisy jumped up and down, but August continued to play his game as if he hadn’t heard. Probably hadn’t. She ruffled his hair. “You, too.”

  “What? Oh, sorry,” he said, sitting up straighter. “Did you want me to do something?”

  “Yes, help me make dinner.”

  “But I don’t know how to make anything.”

  “I’ll teach you. You’re a big young man. You’re father needs help around the house, and it would be great if you, too, could help him by making dinner every once in a while. What do you say?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, not sounding every excited.

  Jaqueline put the kids to work. “Okay, August, take out some potatoes from that drawer there, and bring them to the sink to peel. Daisy, get the carrots out of the refrigerator.”

  By the time Hugo came to pick them up, they had a warm shepherd’s pie, steamed vegetables, and a fruit salad ready for him. He ate happily and thanked her repeatedly. When he was ready to leave, he stood in the living room with tears in his eyes. “Merry Christmas, Jaqueline.” He presented her with a small gift. “Just a small thank you for all you’ve done for us this year.”

  “Oh, Hugo, that wasn’t necessary.” She pulled out a lovely scarf and a little angel pin from the gift bag.

  “You’re our angel,” he said, and leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

  She blushed. Just like a young girl. “Wait here,” she said, and brought back the gifts she’d gotten for the kids. “Take them. Put them under the tree and open them on Christmas morning.”

  The kids hugged her and left happily with their father.

  Jaqueline went back to the kitchen and prepared a plate of food for Victor. They’d come straight home from the club and she knew he hadn’t eaten. She still wasn’t sure she wanted to put her trust and hope in Victor again. She’d convinced herself that divorce was the best option for the both of them. And that hadn’t been an easy choice. But she’d made it, and to back-pedal now… Well, she just didn’t know. She put on a sweater and walked back to the garage. She knocked on the door, and he opened it.

  “Thought you might be hungry,” she said.

  “I am.” He took the plate. “All I bought was a bag of chips at the store yesterday. Want to come in?”

  “No, thanks.” It struck her as crazy to be invited into her own garage.

  “Did you enjoy babysitting?” he asked. “I saw the kids leave.”

  “Yes, but they’ve worn me out. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

  Victor smiled. “Hugo seems like a nice man,” he said.

  “Yes. It makes me wish we’d had a son, Victor.”

  He shrugged. “I like my girls.”

  “Me, too, but a boy… might have been nice.”

  “Should we try again? We’re not that old.”

  That made her laugh out loud. “Trust me, I’m too old for that.” They gazed at each other with a smile on their faces. “Good night,” she said.

  “Good night.” He held his plate up. “And thanks for this.”

  “You’re welcome.” The problem with divorce was that she still loved him after all these years.

  No one celebrated Christmas at the Argentine Club. Christmas was reserved for family gatherings. However, on December 23, the club had its own celebration. Eric went out and bought a new suit with a red bow tie. He got a fresh haircut and even had his rough hands manicured. Not just because of the holiday celebration, but because he planned his own celebration for tonight.

  They arrived around nine that night. The dinner would be formal. Instead of the customary Argentine dinner, turkeys and hams were served by hired waiters. Everything smelled delicious. Christmas lights twinkled from the various decorations. “Silver Bells” played softly from the speakers. Everything was perfect.

  The joy he felt inside, he almost couldn’t process. This club held everything he loved. His parents, Victoria, bits of history that made him who he was, and a community that had always considered him one of their own—a lost son, but their son.

  He found himself smiling every time he looked at Victoria, who was dressed in a beautiful dark blue gown with gold lacy trim molded to her body and flowing to her ankles. The missing parts of his life could only have been put together by this woman.

  During dinner, his parents and hers sat together, because they knew Eric and Victoria would not be separated. The evening flowed with synchronized perfection.

  So later that night when Eric pulled Victoria out to the dance floor, he knew it was the perfect time to break his surprise.

  She rested her head on his shoulder.

  “Victoria?”

  “Hmm.”

  “Are you happy?”

  She lifted her head, a soft smile on her lips. “Very happy.”

  “How happy is that?”

  “On a scale of one to ten, I’d say a nine point three.”

  “Not bad. But I want it to be a perfect ten.” He pulled a gift from his coat pocket. A small box he didn’t bother to wrap. A squashed red bow sat on top. He held it in the palm of his hand. “For you.”

  She sort of smiled in a confused w
ay. Glanced at the box and at him with a question.

  “Take it. Open it.”

  She quickly scanned the dance floor, appearing hesitant to take the box from his hand. But she reached for it and held it between them. Her fingertips caressed the soft velvet; her eyes studied the outside as if it would give her a clue to what was inside.

  “Open it,” he urged again, whispering in her ear, hoping that she liked what he picked out. Wondering if maybe he should have let her choose.

  With shaky fingers she flipped open the hinged lid. The two-karat diamond winked at them both as the lights from above caught each cut and angle. They had stopped moving on the dance floor, and some eyes were on them. Victoria stared at the ring without speaking. Time seemed to stand still the longer she was silent. Then she snapped the box closed rapidly, and walked off the dance floor without a word.

  Victoria couldn’t breathe. Oh God, what had Eric done? She pushed past other dancers. Felt like the crowd was closing in on her. Needed some space. A quiet spot to look at this ring. To look into Eric’s eyes and try to understand what he was thinking.

  As she finally burst through the heat of bodies, and ignored a few people who called out to her, she reached the back room where school was usually held. She drew in a deep breath and told herself to calm down. Eric was not going to ask her to marry him. And if he was, then this would become the most wonderful day of her life. But it would not be with everyone from the club watching her reaction. She heard footsteps behind her and turned around.

  Eric frowned as he stared at the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen in his life. She had a hand to her heart and didn’t look like she was breathing too easily. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing. It’s a nice ring. Thanks.”

  “Nice ring? It’s an engagement ring.”

  “I know.”

  He smiled, trying to ignore the knot that had begun to grow in his stomach the second she walked away from him. “Well, you didn’t wait around for the question that goes with that ring.”

  “Eric…” She shook her head. “It’s Christmas.”

  Christmas music still played out in the main hall—only the faint melody of “Everybody’s Home Tonight” floated into the back rooms.

  “Victoria, I know. Listen, I decided I don’t want to sell our house. I want to live in it with you and buy our own furniture and decorate it, and live together in it for as long as we want, as a married couple.”

  Her eyes were wide as she stared at him, seeming unable to take in what he was saying. He’d shocked her, but not in the joyous way he’d expected. Why not?

  “And so you went out and bought a ring, and decided to propose? Here? Tonight?”

  “Sure, it’s a special night. And a special place. What’s wrong?”

  She closed her eyes and shook her head. Her hands gripped the small blue velvet box tightly in front of her, putting strain on her knuckles. “Eric, I’ve wanted to tell you something for a couple of weeks and kept putting it off, because I figured it wasn’t a big deal. But… I sort of got a promotion at work.”

  “You mean at the design firm? I thought you were finished with them as of this week.”

  “They offered me a permanent position.”

  He smiled. “Great.”

  “Yes,” she said, but didn’t smile back, and he wondered, again, why not.

  “And?” he urged.

  “And my first project is going to take me to Washington State for a few weeks. I was going to move all my things out in case you sold the house while I was gone. I knew you’d be looking for a new place to flip, and… but, you’ve been thinking… wow, marriage.”

  His stomach tightened more painfully. “Don’t you want to get married?” She didn’t seem thrilled with the idea.

  “I, ah, think… it might not be the best time to get married, Eric.”

  “Well, I wasn’t suggesting we run out and do it tonight.”

  “I know. But I’m starting this new job, and finishing my degree. And you’re going to try to establish your business here, and—”

  “Whoa, wait a minute, Victoria.”

  She looked miserable. Uncomfortable.

  “I thought you’d be happy about this.” His voice came out cold and held a question he couldn’t put into words.

  “I’m incredibly touched. I mean, Eric, I am happy.” She closed the few feet that separated them, and placed a hand on his arm. “But I’m going to want a long engagement.”

  “How long?” He knew he shouldn’t be getting pissed, but he was. Women were supposed to jump up and down when a man proposed. Not negotiate a deal on when she’d give in and accept the inconvenient proposal.

  Victoria could see him getting angry. Feeling hurt. And damn it, she wasn’t sure what to say or how to say it so that he would understand. The back rooms were hot, and all of a sudden the dress flowing around her felt more like a straitjacket. She ran her hand up his upper arm. “I expected us to date longer. We’ve only been together for a little over five months.”

  “Five great months, I thought.”

  “Yes, but five great months mostly as friends.”

  “What does time have to do with—”

  “I’m still getting used to the idea that you’re actually going to stay in town,” she interrupted. “And that we’re going to be able to deepen this relationship.”

  “I though we might deepen it with a commitment.”

  A commitment, yes. A permanent bond that would last a lifetime… was she wrong to think it was too soon? That they needed more time to contemplate such a huge step? But she did love him. And spending the rest of her life in love with Eric couldn’t feel more right.

  “Forget it,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Eric. Wait. Don’t get angry.”

  “Look, I rushed into this. I’m sorry.”

  “No,” she said. “Don’t be sorry. I love you for thinking of this. For this beautiful presentation of the ring. And…” She paused for just a moment, to see if she could put into words the conflicting feelings inside her. “But I have to be honest. Can I be honest?”

  Her heart had begun to beat so hard that the thudding pulsed in her ears. But something inside told her that if he really loved her, that if they were going to have a chance together, she should be able to voice her honest concerns and he should be able to listen. She didn’t want to end up like her parents twenty or thirty years from now. Not talking. Not communicating. Not knowing the deepest needs of the other person.

  He stared at her and waited for more, with a closed expression that wasn’t encouraging, but she spoke anyway.

  “I’ve felt so confined living with my parents all my life,” she started. “This is the first time I’ve had any freedom. That I’ve been able to do my own thing without worrying about what they thought.” She paused and gazed at him.

  “Yes. I know. But what does that have to do with me? With us?”

  She forced herself to express her thoughts with strength and continued. “The thought of getting married makes me feel confined all over again.”

  “I make you feel confined?”

  “No, it’s not you.” She shook her head. “I simply want us to spend more time dating. I need to be me awhile longer before we become an us.”

  Eric’s jaw was so tight he though it was going to snap. The night that had started out so wonderful had now taken on a dark shadow, making it difficult for him to focus. On one level, he understood what she was saying, but on another level—the one taking over his emotions right now—he understood that she obviously needed her independence more than she needed him. And she could have it. He was bending over backward trying to fit her into his life, to make her happy, because he thought it was what she wanted. Why the hell had he bothered?

  “Yeah, okay.” He turned away and headed for the door.

  “Eric,” she called after him. “Stop.”

  He paused and looked over his shoulder. “You said when I needed time to be
alone, you’d give it to me. I need time now.”

  She rushed to his side and took one of his hands. “This isn’t you needing time alone. This is you running away from me. Don’t do it. I love you, Eric.”

  Gazing into her eyes, her soft face, the sexy lips he loved to kiss almost convinced him to stay. He angled his head and kissed her cheek. “I love you, too. But damn it, Victoria, if you can think of marriage to me as a trap of some sort, then…” He was going to say it’s over, but he couldn’t say it. “Then, we both need some time to think about what we want.”

  Her grip intensified on his hand. “I didn’t say no.” Tears touched her eyes, glistening, threatening to fall and break his heart.

  “Vicki, you didn’t say yes.” He pried her fingers loose, and waited for just a second to see if she’d say it. If she’d say, Yes, I’ll marry you. The second came and went in silence, and he turned away and left.

  He went home. Packed a bag, got in his truck, and started driving. He headed east on the 10 Freeway. The one that led him out of California. The one he’d taken the last time he’d left, when he was full of anger and resentment at his father. This time his feelings were deeper and more complex. This time he really didn’t want to leave.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Victor and Jaqueline drove Victoria home. Antonio and Lucia followed in their own car. When they all got there less than an hour later, Eric was gone. Victoria rushed to their bedroom and noticed he’d taken his things. Not all of them, but enough to fit in a large suitcase.

  “Oh, Eric,” she said. She sat on the bed and dug in her purse for her cell and called him. Voice mail—big surprise. “Hey,” she said. “Where did you go, Eric?” she sighed. “I’m sorry. But you know I love you, and that I want you.” She was about to click the phone off, but her thoughts wouldn’t stop. “You made me believe in myself again, Eric.” She sniffled and realized tears were running down her face. She wiped her tears. “You’re my best friend and the crazy thing is I know you understand exactly how I’m feeling. If you weren’t my boyfriend you’d be telling me, ‘Don’t marry this guy yet, Victoria. Go to Washington, build your career.’ You know you would. But right now you’re acting like a guy, and that’s okay. You’re entitled. I love you anyway.” The phone beeped. Her time was up.