Happy Families_ Stories - Carlos Fuentes [99]
Just serious. A little serious.
He had an elegant laugh. Spontaneous. Joyful. Everything well rehearsed.
Have you ever heard sad laughs?
Something worse. There are laughs with significance.
I don’t understand.
Of course you do, you know. Those people who never laugh at somebody else’s jokes and die laughing at their own, though nobody else finds them funny. I mean, Cristóbal began to laugh to redeem his defects. I realized he wasn’t only laughing at a joke or to lighten a tiresome situation. Not to liven up the conversation and even life itself. He laughed to excuse himself. When he did something wrong. When he said something inopportune. When he forgot an anniversary. When he was late for an appointment. When he fired a servant without consulting me first. When he didn’t like my makeup, my dress, the book or magazine I was reading, he laughed. He laughed at me. He excused himself for throwing out my lipstick or giving half my wardrobe to the Red Cross or grabbing away the book by Dan Brown or my copy of Hola!, laughing as he said bad taste, trash, I have to educate you.
What did you say?
Hey, don’t play Pygmalion with me. That popped out. It was our first disagreement. After that, he enjoyed criticizing me with an eyedropper, always smiling.
Did you say anything to him?
I’m untorturable. That’s what I told him. It was a mistake. He began to annoy me more and more. I didn’t let him. Your successes bore me, I told him. Don’t tell me about them anymore. Stop presenting yourself to me as a man who makes important decisions every half hour. Your decisions bore me. Every night you come into my bedroom shouting “Land ho!” You had a good time colonizing me, Cristobalito. Don’t you ever put off a decision? Don’t you ever reflect, don’t you ever take your time? And not only that, Leo. Slowly I began to realize that behind the boasting about successes, Cristóbal wanted to impress me with a very powerful love, bigger than any affection for me. Love of manipulation. Loyalty to lies. That’s what was behind his boasting.
How did you find out?
It was incredible, Leo. Priscila Barradas, my best friend, you know, the fat woman, made a date with me at the bar in the lobby of the Camino Real. We were drinking margaritas and gossiping very happily when suddenly, fat Pris very calmly stood up and walked out to the lobby. Cristóbal came into the hotel, and she stopped him, holding his arm, whispered something into his ear with her nasty bean breath, and he looked toward the bar nervously, not meeting my eyes—not like the first time, you see?—and hurried away. Shameless Priscila went after him, leaving me flat, sitting in front of a margarita getting warmer and warmer. Oh yes, and leaving me to push up daisies, the old bitch.
Next time order cognac.
That night I reproached Cristóbal for his infidelity. He laughed at me. My conclusions were false, he said. Priscila was the wife of our friend José Miguel Barradas. She simply came over to give him a message from José Miguel. And why didn’t the vulgar cow come back to say goodbye to me? Cristóbal laughed, as usual. To provoke you, he said, to make you jealous. Yes, I said, you have to have friends who are very married who don’t want to trade their husband for yours. This amused Cristóbal very much. He made passionate love to me again, and again he disarmed me.
And your friend Priscila? Surely you saw each other again.
She’s a fat, cynical pig. When I mentioned it to her at a cocktail party, she said, “I think being the only woman who can love your husband is a supreme act of egotism.”
What did you say?
One husband’s as good as another, as far as you’re concerned. Be happy with what you already have, fatso.
And then?
We pulled each other’s hair. It happens in the best circles.
And Cristóbal?
I’m telling you, he made passionate love to me and disarmed me. I’m a poor dumb cow.
As the song says, the one you like so much, “Let’s fall in love, why shouldn’t we fall in love?”
It was at first sight, Leo. Do you have to wait for second sight to take the first step?