“You didn’t miss us even the slightest bit?” Julia teased.
“You know what happens when we cocoa men leave the island.” Jacobo retained the ironic plural. “We are tired of weeds and machetes . . .” Seeing the disappointment on her face, he qualified himself. “But you also know that we like to come back. By the way”—he quickly changed the subject—“be sure we remember to buy limes. They sure go through them!” He turned to Kilian. “Have you got everything we need?”
His brother shook his head. He took the list out of his pocket and gave it to Julia, who busied herself preparing the goods while the men looked at the shelves in case they needed anything else.
“That’s nougat from last Christmas,” said Julia on seeing Kilian trying to decipher the contents of a tin. “As you can see, we have everything here.”
“Tinned nougat!”
“When somebody wants something, it sharpens the mind.”
Soon the parcels were ready. Jacobo signed the receipt and paid for a bottle of Tullamore Dew Irish whiskey with his own coupon.
“For the old doctor’s going-away party,” he whispered to Kilian, giving him a wink. “It’s tonight.”
Julia accompanied them to the pickup. “How would you like to come to the house for lunch or dinner this week? My parents would be happy to see you.” Before Jacobo had a chance to make an excuse, she added, “And it would be good for Kilian to get out of the forest.”
Jacobo had a different type of party in mind for his brother. Such soirees were fine for young married couples. Single men looked for other types of entertainment. He tried to come up with a polite way of refusing the invitation, but Kilian interrupted. “Thanks, Julia. We’d be delighted. Wouldn’t we, Jacobo?”
“Yes, yes, of course.”
“We’ll see each other this week then.” Julia beamed. “I’ll send you an invitation with the boy. Bye for now!”
Satisfied, she turned around and went back to work with a spring in her step.
Jacobo put his hand in his pocket, took out a small jar of cream, and threw it angrily to his brother before getting into the vehicle. “Take this!”
Kilian got into the pickup and began to spread the cream on his arms and the top half of his chest. Jacobo drove in silence.
“Do you mind telling me what’s bugging you?” Kilian asked after a while.
Jacobo pursed his lips and shook his head. “She certainly got her way!”
“Are you referring to Julia? She seemed a very nice and intelligent woman. She’s easy to talk to and has a great sense of humor.”
“She’s all yours.”
Kilian frowned, then let out a roar of laughter while slapping his thighs. “So she’s in love with you! You kept that very quiet . . .”
“And what’s there to say? She’s not the first nor the last to chase me.”
“They won’t all be like Julia.”
“You’re dead right.” Jacobo nodded with a devilish smile. “In other circumstances, I would take her for a stroll down Lover’s Lane at Punta Fernanda. But it’s too early.”
“Too early for what?”
“What do you think? For me to get engaged.” When he saw that Kilian looked confused, Jacobo gave an over-the-top sigh. “Boy, sometimes you’re a bit thick. Look, Kilian, here, at our age, we all have many . . . let’s say . . . girlfriends, but no one steady. Well, some do have a steady girl, but not like Julia, I mean, not one of ours, but the steady ones cause problems because they become infatuated and want money, or they entangle you with a child . . . I try not to have anyone steady. I hope you’ll also be sensible . . . I don’t know if you get what I’m saying.”
Kilian had gotten some idea. He looked down at his hands. “But our father as well? I mean, someone married who spends long periods alone here . . .”
Imagining Antón in the arms of a woman who was not Mariana caused a strange knot in Kilian’s stomach.
“Look, I don’t know what he might have done when he was younger, nor have I asked him. But since I’ve been here on the island, I haven’t heard or seen anything untoward. And usually these things come out.”
Kilian breathed out a sigh of relief.
“Anyway, I’m not surprised. You know what Dad’s like on religion and morality . . .”
“And he loves Mom a lot . . . He wouldn’t do that to her—be unfaithful, I mean.”
“Well, yes, but other married men also love their wives back in Spain and don’t hesitate to look for company to keep themselves amused during the long campaigns. Love has nothing to do with these things.”
Kilian did not completely agree, but he did not comment. Far from answering his questions, the embarrassing conversation had led to many more. He decided to put an end to the serious mood.
“And where do you see your girlfriends? In the fortnight I’ve been here, I haven’t seen any . . .”
Jacobo gave him a rakish grin. “You’ll see, Kilian, you’ll see. What’s more, I think it’s time that I introduce you to them soon. You’re the very type who’d easily fall for someone like Julia. I’m not going to let you miss the best this island has . . .”
“Thanks for your concern,” said Kilian derisively. “I hope I measure up.”
He noticed that his brother was smiling. Turning his head and looking out the window, he saw that they had returned to Zaragoza. His first visit to the city had made him feel better. The itching had not stopped, but his talk with Julia had made him feel less lonely, and the drive through the tunnel of palm trees did not seem so strange. He even noticed a comforting gesture of familiarity in the wachimán Yeremías’s greeting.
“By the way, Jacobo,” he said when the pickup stopped in front of the white-columned porch of the beautiful main house.
“Yes?”
“It was my turn to drive.”
After unloading the purchases, Jacobo took another vehicle and went off to Yakató. Kilian sat in the driver’s seat to join in the day’s work at Obsay. He moved the picú forward a few meters in fits and starts and stopped again to return the hello he got from Antón, who was walking at a distance toward the main stores accompanied by the ever-present José. Kilian waited until they had gone into the building—he did not want any witnesses. Fortunately, at this time of day, there was nobody in the main yard.