“Julia will look after you, lad,” said Emilio before setting off. “She’s in the store. Come whenever you want. And bring your brother.”
Jacobo nodded and thought with a mother like that, it was not strange that Julia had such a determined character. He went toward the back of the store, flanked by overflowing shelves, and made out Julia’s figure climbing up a rickety ladder, trying on tiptoe to get at a box that was just out of her reach. Jacobo could see nearly the whole length of her tanned legs under a fiery red skirt and felt a glimmer of unexpected desire. A small voice in his head reproached him again for letting her escape. He had not forgotten her comfort at Antón’s funeral. A woman like her would always be at her husband’s side. You only had to look at Manuel’s face to realize how happy he was with her, with his wife.
He choked on the words as he thought them.
Julia was married to another.
Another small voice appeared, reminding him that marrying her would have meant not only the loss of his coveted freedom, but also a tie to the island. Jacobo enjoyed his life on the island, for now. He would not do what his father had done. He would not sacrifice so many years for Fernando Po. Sooner or later he would return to Spain. Kilian would do the same. And Julia would stay near Santa Isabel. As sure as the sun rose each day.
Then what was he doing standing there, staring at a friend recently married to another friend? Manuel was that, a good friend. Even for Jacobo, this overstepped his bounds!
He stealthily crept closer.
“Be careful, Julia!” he said, an evil glint in his eyes.
The girl was startled. She grabbed on to some iron bars above her head to get a firm footing on the top rung of the ladder just as a pair of strong arms caught her by the waist to lower her slowly down to the ground. Jacobo saw her thighs, her waist, her chest, her neck, and her red face. When she got to the ground, her face was level with the man’s torso, and for a few seconds, she did not dare raise her head to look at him.
She had never been this close to Jacobo.
She breathed in his scent.
She should get out of the embrace but did not want to. He had caught her; he should be the one to let her go. Her heart beat strongly. Jacobo moved her away a few centimeters, searching for her eyes. She lifted her chin to him and discovered something strange, different, in the man’s green eyes. They were darkened by a doubt, hesitation, desire.
Julia half opened her lips as he bent down to taste them with tender abandonment, both delaying with ardent listlessness the inevitable guilt. She pressed herself to him to feel his hands covering her back, in a brief moment of possession and surrender, and caressed his black hair with the tips of her fingers.
Julia and Jacobo kissed, slowly and greedily, until they stopped for air. Then she took his hands and undid the embrace.
“Don’t ever do that again,” she said, her voice faltering.
“I’m sorry.” Jacobo shook his head. “Actually, no, I’m not sorry.”
“I meant giving someone on a ladder a fright. I almost killed myself. Well, and the other thing as well.”
“It seemed to me that you were enjoying it . . .” Jacobo tried to circle her waist.
“Too late, Jacobo.” Julia put the palms of her hands on his chest and pushed him gently. “Too late.”
“But . . .”
“No, Jacobo. I promised before God and my family to be faithful to my husband.”
“Then why did you let me . . .”
Julia would have liked to tell him that it was the prize for the many hours she spent dreaming about kissing him, about having him this close. She would have liked to have said how happy he made her by showing in his eyes that they could have had a future together. If he had wanted to . . . But it was too late now. She shrugged and answered, “It just happened. We will never mention this again. Right?”
Jacobo grudgingly agreed, though he was used to succumbing to passionate encounters without much thought. They could never deny that something special had happened. How could she regain her composure so quickly after having shared such a breathtaking moment? From his experience with white women, he would have understood tears of guilt, immediate regret, or even the complete opposite, an offer of occasional secret meetings . . . but this conscious denial of a desired pleasure left him dumbstruck.
“What do you need to get today?” Julia asked, straightening her dress.
“Eh, I’d better come back another day.” Few times in his life had Jacobo felt so incapable of small talk.
“As you wish.”
At that moment, a slight girl with short dark hair pulled up in a wide pink ribbon entered the store.
“How are you, Oba?” Julia inquired. Jacobo recognized Sade’s friend from Anita Guau. “Jacobo, we have hired Oba to help us in the store. My parents are getting busier and busier, and I can’t be here all hours of the day. I’ve got other commitments now . . .” She paused.
“It’s a good idea,” he said flatly. “Well, I’d better be going. See you soon, Julia.”
“Good-bye, Jacobo.”
Jacobo left the building and stood in the rain for a few minutes before slipping into the pickup. Inside the store, Oba followed Julia through the shelves as she explained where everything was kept. When she got to the stairs, Julia stopped for a few seconds and put her hands to her lips. Oba, a talkative girl, said, “That good-looking massa . . . I know him, you know? Are you friends? Well, he and I have friends in common. Sometimes we meet up . . .”
“Oba!” Julia shouted. When she saw the girl’s expression, she changed her tone. “Don’t get distracted, I still have a lot of things to show you.”
The last thing Julia wanted at that moment, with the taste of Jacobo still on her lips, was for someone to drag her back to reality.
Toward the end of December, all the plantation employees received a written invitation to celebrate the new year at the doctor’s house.
“For weeks we have been trying to celebrate our wedding with you, but we put it off for one reason or another,” a radiant Julia explained to her guests. “We finally made it coincide with, you know, New Year’s, new life . . .”
Kilian saw the newly married couple quite often, but that day he found Julia especially happy. She was wearing a pale-yellow silk dress that flared at the waist, and her hair was done up in a high chignon that highlighted her porcelain skin. Julia was not a beauty, but she was gorgeous when she smiled. Manuel’s and Julia’s parents were also in attendance and very happy.