Dear reader,
I thank you for visiting these chapters of my story. If this is the first one you see I advise you to start with Chapter 1, for that's where you'll be informed about all those characters from the start.
All others, I want you to have fun reading this, please leave a comment, advise or whatever you would like to share with me.
The next chapters will take some time. I have to start writing them....
Love you all,
D.
28 In my car
In this section you best listen to:
Tourist by St. Germain
We drove to her house. St. Germain was playing Rose Rouge on my CD player, with some good advice that I interpreted for myself. "I want you to get together." Well, that was exactly what I wanted. Being with someone. Not with just anyone, but with the person sitting next to me.
Juanita was quiet and drummed in rhythm with her fingers on the dashboard.
My mind drifted to Chittie, I had just talked to her to alert her that I was coming for lunch.
"Of course, Doña Delgado, Chittie will make a nice table for you and ..."
I chuckled and said "Yes, Chittie, for me and Juanita."
"I knew, I knew ... two such beautiful women have to ..." I shut her up.
"Chittie STOP! We are far from that. But I hope we will get to know each other better. "
"Of course Doña Delgado, of course. Don't be in a hurry, take your time for everything, being in a hurry is bad for the digestion as my late Jorge always said. But it's quite hot under those smoldering embers isn't it? This time it will certainly become more, Chittie knows for sure! I see it in both of you. Something beautiful is growing, now let it come to full maturity. Sorry Doña Delgado, I'm rambling again. But I'm so happy for you."
I had said goodbye to her laughing. Juanita had stood beside me with growing surprise. Of course, she had only heard my part of the story.
"Well, that was a funny conversation."
I was still laughing when I told her that Xochitl was a treasure of a human but that she could get carried away by possibilities every now and then.
"She's already seeing us tie the knot."
"Who? She and... ohhh, hold on, she meant you and me?" I nodded as I looked at her with a smile. Her face fell and she started to blush.
"What's the matter, Juanita, don't you think it's a funny idea?"
"Yes, but you can't get married here at all!"
I shook my head and pulled her towards me. With my head next to hers, I whispered in her ear: "Officially, same sex cannot get married here, but Chittie has found something about that. Didn't you notice those photos yesterday?"
Juanita backed away to look at me in surprise. "Those pictures on the wall at Chittie's?" I nodded. "No, I don't believe I did. Was there anything weird with those pics?"
"All the photos hanging there are from unofficial weddings. At Chittie's, anyone can get married, but it is usually gay or lesbian marriages that take place there.
She has been doing this since her husband Jorge died, because, as she says herself, everyone has the right to make a loving commitment. Her brother is a pretty progressive pastor and blesses the marriages. So maybe not for the state and the official church, but every bridal couple has received the blessing of God from the pastor."
After a moment's silence: "And who were the bride and groom in the photo you are on?"
"Oh, that was a coincidence. My then girlfriend and I had wandered in while a marriage was underway. I had no idea who got married. Probably it were those two guys in the middle. Everyone who came in during a marriage was welcome, which is why the majority of the people in most pictures are regular customers."
She nodded but became very quiet. No word was said till we were well on our way.
I looked at her for a moment, hmm how good she looked. She had stopped drumming. A slow song of St. Germain had made her look out of the car window. I focused on the road again.
"How long have you known her, Dito? You get along so well." I sort of startled when she spoke.
"You mean Chittie and me?" From the corner of my eye I saw she nodded.'
"I was still young when we, as a family, already came to the restaurant of Xochitl and her husband Jorge. My parents had a special relationship with them. Jorge often came to our house to do odd jobs. When we needed an electrician, carpenter or plumber, Jorge was called.
We actually ate at Chittie's every Sunday. She made a Chateaubriand and it was flambéed at the table. We had a fixed table and fixed places. My father opposite my mother, Chittie stood at our table with a mobile cart with a burner, a cutting board and spices. I was allowed to sit opposite Chittie so I could have a good look at everything.
We also had a regular ritual, that went the same way every week: when the meat was ready, Chittie cut off a slice of it. She gave it to Mama. My mother then cut it into a biteable chunk and poked that on her fork. The fork went back to Chittie with the piece of meat, she put it through the pan with gravy again and offered the fork to Father. Then my mother tapped the plate with her knife, shook her head at Chittie as to tell her she did it wrong, at which Chittie put the fork with the meat into Father's mouth."
"What a strange ritual."
"Oh, I always thought it was funny. Especially because I knew what came next. "
Juanita hung on my words as I continued.
"When father had chewed and swallowed and that often took a while, he nodded at Mama. My mother nodded back, and Chittie, who had been waiting next to Father all along, was pinched. Then she let out a cry and was allowed to continue cutting the meat. When all the meat had been served, she walked past all the plates again with the gravy and draped some over the meat.
In addition, she was pinched in her butt by both Father and Mama. Which made two more calls and gave us a lot of fun. We never knew whether it would be a high-pitched cry or a more animal growl. That growl of hers was great. She especially did that when she was a little behind me."
Juanita laughed. "Then they must have had a great bond with each other."
I nodded and thought about the time when Mama and Father were still alive. Chittie and Jorge had indeed had a great relationship with my parents. Suddenly I realized that all the relationships my parents had had with others had been more than friendly, even more, amiable.
"Are your parents still alive, Juanita?" I looked at her for a moment and saw she got a somewhat uneasy expression. "Sorry I was too bold?" I looked back at the road.
"I don't know anything about my father. My mother took the secret with her to her grave. She passed away two years ago." I looked aside for a moment and saw that she had taken a sad look. I put my hand on her knee.
"You don't have to tell it now, girl. I don't want you to be sad just because I want to satisfy my curiosity. Tell it when you want it or not, it's up to you. " I concentrated on the road again, my hand remained on her knee.
She cleared her throat. "My mother has always told me that you don't need a man to be happy, especially with a child. She advised me to keep Tomà s. Even more so when I told her I didn't know who his father is."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her looking at me with a penetrating look for a response from me. I continued to focus on the road.
HOooooo, hold on. All of a sudden the lightning struck me. I looked for a place to park the car and hit the first side path. I braked hard and put the car on the side of the dirt road. I lowered the sound of St. Germain and looked at Juanita without saying a word. My lips tightened and Juanita looked at me in shock.
"What are you doing Dito? Why are we standing still? What is wrong?"
I became angry now. "Now you listen very carefully girl. When you really want to start something with me, I want you to be totally honest first and stop bullshitting me."
She looked at me with a surprised and worried look. "What ... what do you mean?"
I gritted my teeth and I hissed at her: "Just a few days ago you told me you had such a hard time with the divorce and now you're talking about not knowing Tomà s' father. Now you tell me.... where is the lie?"
She got a head like a buoy. "I..., I...." She hung her head as tears fell on her hands. I said nothing, opened the window and waited patiently for her to speak. I heard a bird whistle a nice song and couldn't control a little smile.
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29 In control
In this section you can listen to:
Vous m'emblouissez by Helen Merrill, Jamais, jamais by Rainbirds, You go to my head performed by Julie London, Pessoa 1934 by Rainbirds, You go to my head performed by Mathilde Santing, Sympathy for the devil by Rainbirds, You go to my head by The Continental.
"I..., I......" Charlize sobbed and trembled. I stood in front of her and had the tip of the spike of my high-heel placed on her thigh. She was in her uniform, her hands at her back, sitting in front of me. Her head bent slightly forward, so that her bangs covered her eyes. Like the sunlight, the outside noise sparkled in through the open window. A bird high in the sky sang a beautifully varied song.