Clementine

chapter 4

4

The guests were her father's colleagues, or at least the man was. He brought along his wife. Apparently there was some big deal to be made between my father's business and this man.

A Brazilian through and through, he had a pretty wife. They were both slightly older than my parents but still incredibly sophisticated.

Things were going smoothly, with my parent's natural charm and ability to schmooze. But somewhere around the soup course, our guest asked 'and what about Clementine, what are your plans' after talking about his own son.

I was relatively quiet thus far but was ready to chime in, ready to face the truth, something along the lines of 'oh you know, taking a break from the big city'. But I didn't have time because my mother brought her own voice into the conversation, speaking for me.

"Clementine is in school. She's studying business in NYC. Just here for the break." My mother said in an unwavering voice.

I just looked at her for a moment, deciding that it wasn't worth it to fight her on this one.

The only thing that hurt me was that it seemed that she was ashamed of me. Why couldn't she tell the truth? Was I an embarrassment to her?

I looked at my father, but he averted his own eyes towards his plate.

I kept quiet for the rest of the dinner, smiling and nodding at the moments I was expected too.

I resigned to my parent's control for the rest of it, knowing only that the party after dinner was at least something to look forward to. I tried catching Ernesto or Laticia's eyes throughout their serving us dinner, but looking at them you'd have no idea that they had the same expectation as me. They were acting like nothing was happening.

I couldn't even finish dessert, sweet peaches with ice cream, because I was anticipating what was to come. All because I sorta stopped eating in New York, so getting back into large family meals was going to take work. I was living a whole different lifestyle, for better or for worse.

As soon as everyone was ready to retire to the living room for after dinner cocktails, I excused myself and ran up to my room. Announcing that I was tired and still jet lagged, which I was. Except, as soon as I got to my room I changed from my mint green short romper into my red dress.

One of the few dancing items I packed that I could wear for such an event.

I went out on the tiny balcony from my bedroom, and looked out, seeing the twinkly city lights in the distance.

In Rio, the sun sets at nearly the same time all year round. The city was so different from NY. It was both dangerous and liberating, exotic and familiar.

I then saw Laticia outside, and she waved to me the way that we did so many times when I was a teenager, begging to g out with them and see the real life and nightlife that my parents worked so hard to shield me from.

Now, here I was, acting like a child but I didn't care. I needed this.

I knew the drill. With Laticia's go-ahead, I was able to sneak downstairs and out the back entrance, side stepping the cocktail room entirely.

"Ready, chicquita?" Ernesto asked me. He was changed into a dress shirt.

"Sempre," I replied. Always.

We climbed into a cramped taxi that was already waiting for us outside the house gates, to which we had to walk to for a few minutes on the path between the casa and the portão gates.

The plaza was full. It was so nice to abandon myself, even if for a night, into a moment surrounded by people who were there just to dance. To let go and have fun and keep our life energy alive.

There were string lights all over the plaza walls and lanterns held up by strings. The rhythm of the music injected my veins with energy and I was already going, running straight for the dance floor, but Laticia grabbed my hand and pulled me to the bar.

"Now you be careful, you hear? I don't want to be hearing about any of this from the señorita," Laticia told me as if to be careful, peering at me out of the corner of her eye while leaning against the bar.

"Of course," I began, ready to launch into an explanation that this was all going to be respobsible, but then she cut me off, yelling an order to the bartender.

"Ok ok, work later. Now we have fun," Laticia winked at me innocently and I realized how much I missed these people.

I tune around form the bar, once Laticia handed us our drinks and we found Ernesto in the crowd. He had already found some of his friends, and after a few introductions and customary kisses on the cheeks, we made into the middle of the large group of people that was this party.

The sweaty bodies, the hot night, the feeling of the music felt all to familiar and I had to remind myself not to let it go as far this time.

I knew my red dress was noticeable, and I honestly was surprising myself with how daring I felt. It must have been a lack of sleep. But most likely, it was my restlessness. It was my feeling that I was ready to move on from everything that has happened, and kept me anchored for so long.

I talked to a few of Ernesto's younger friends when they approached me but there was nothing special about any of them. Laticia also introduced me to a lot of different women that she knew, and I felt like I could almost make friends with some of them, right there and then. Considering that I didn't know how long I'd be stuck in the country this time, this might not have been the worst idea.

Just as we were getting through introductions with a new pair of Laticia's girlfriends, and somewhere in between the fourth and fifth drink, my eyes landed on a small group of guys who came to our people to say their hellos.

Then, all of a sudden, it was like a tidal wave hit me and engulfed me for a brief, sweet moment. All of a sudden, I saw him.