Page 20 of A Christmas Adventure

Violeta swallows, her mother has sat in front of her and looks at her as she speaks, waiting for the oven alarm to indicate that their food is ready.

"She says that despite not being in love with that woman, that night she felt things she had never felt with her husband."

Her mother lowers her voice and explains it to her as if it were a confidence.

"Daughter, I don't know what you do," she suddenly says and Violeta feels her ears explode from the shame she feels, "but there she decided that she didn't want to continue with her husband and got divorced."

"At least she was honest with him and with herself," she says, trying to prevent her mother from asking her things that she is not willing to explain.

"Yes, she's a very sensible woman, you'll get to know her."

"And now she's not with anyone?"

The question comes out of her mouth without her being able to contain it. Violeta lowers her gaze to the table and moves the bread basket around as if she cared very little about the answer and had asked out of pure curiosity.

"No, not at all, although a few days ago she told me that in Huesca she had had an affair with a woman that she couldn't get out of her head."

Violeta's mouth dries up in such a way that she feels her tongue has turned into a piece of cork.

"I really don't understand you young people."

"Why?" she asks with a trembling voice.

"Oh, daughter, because you are very weird. It turns out that she meets this girl, they have an affair and when I ask her why she doesn't call her and meet up with her again, she goes and tells me that she doesn't even know her name. Do you think that's normal? Tell me you don't do those things, Violeta."

Violeta doesn't answer because her ears are buzzing until they turn her mother's words into a sound that is difficult to understand.

"Violeta..."

"What?"

"Are you listening to me? Do you also do those things? Do you hook up with a girl without even asking her name?"

"No, no," she lies, feeling petty, "that's the first thing I ask."

"Well, so you can see what one of those hot flashes can do. Now the poor thing can't find her because she doesn't know her name, or her phone number, or anything."

Maite shakes her head in such a way that Violeta thinks she just needs to cross herself. The oven bell rings and her mother gets up, she turns around and looks at the wall that leads to her neighbor's house, aware of how much she would like to be on the other side of that wall right now.

Chapter 11

Olga has had the meat pie ready for over an hour and a half. She has been killing time at home, pacing back and forth trying to delay her presence at her neighbors' house as much as possible. Any other day, she would have already rung the doorbell to go for a walk with Maite and would be having a drink while chatting lively, but now it's different, the presence of her daughter has changed everything, shaking up Olga's world as if she had been grabbed by the feet and turned upside down with the intention of emptying her pockets.

Finally, aware that if she doesn't show up at their house, Maite will find it strange, at exactly seven-thirty she rings the doorbell. She didn't know what to wear, it's just a dinner among friends, but it's a special date and why deny it, she wants to please Violeta even though she has told her that they can only be friends. So, within the informality, she has chosen dark gray pants accompanied by a white turtleneck sweater and a blazer that looks like it was designed for her. She has left her mane loose, nothing shedoesn't do other times, but she has brushed it carefully and slightly molded it in such a way that they could go to dinner at one of the best restaurants and her elegance would not go unnoticed.

The door is opened by Violeta, who has thought the same as Olga and has chosen a similar outfit, only she has done an updo that leaves her long neck exposed, causing in Olga a sudden desire to run her tongue very slowly, as she did that night.

"Come in," says Violeta, standing stiff as a pole next to the door.

Olga leaves a trail of perfume that clouds her judgment and keeps her anchored to that night they spent together in Huesca. She has used the same one, and Violeta is sure she has done it on purpose. She gives her a demanding and tense look, but her neighbor passes by her side with a haughty air and doesn't stop until she reaches the kitchen.

"How pretty you look," says Maite as soon as she sees her.

Olga sets down the tray with the meat pie. The two give each other two kisses and Violeta frowns, noticing a ball of jealousy growing in her chest.

"You too," Olga answers, observing the dress the hostess has chosen.

"Thanks," smiles Maite, opening the cabinet to take out the glasses. "Take off your jacket, leave it in my room and that way it won't smell like shrimp."