Santiago Roncagliolo

Hi, This Is Conchita


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      — Deal? What the devil are you…

      — Yes, it’s just that right now…I’m speaking with another client…

      — You don’t have…

      — Then I’ll call you, all right?

      — You’re not there with a girlfriend, are you, Don? I mean…

      — No, no complication…

      — I mean you deceive your wife with me. And you’re deceiving me with another woman, aren’t you?

      — You know our motto is keeping faith with our clients.

      — Don, stop talking like a bank commercial! Why haven’t you called me in three days? Do you think you can play with me? Do you? You think I’m your weekend toy, don’t you? Your tramp!

      — Well look, I’ll find that…that information right now, since it’s urgent…

      — Are you going to hang up on me?

      — No, no, no, not at all. Right now I’m excusing myself for a few seconds, hold on, I’m walking down the hall to the bathroom…

      — You don’t have to describe the whole building to me, Don.

      — And now that I’m in the bathroom and, yes it’s empty, and…have you lost your mind?! Are you hysterical?!

      — Ah, yes, now the real Don is back. And he’s insulting me. He disappears the entire weekend and now he comes and…

      — Mary, please…

      — …insults me. Is that what you think? That I’m hysterical?

      — Mary, don’t…

      — Because if you believe that you can take your roses and your invitations to fancy dinners and shove them up your ass. Do you hear?

      — …Darling…

      — Up your ass!

      — You don’t have to be like that…

      — And how do I have to be, please? Tell me! How do I have to be?

      — I had a hard weekend. Understand? My wife wanted to go out with the children, I couldn’t get out of it…

      — You had a hard weekend? And what about me, Don? Answer me! Didn’t I have a difficult weekend, stuck in the apartment alone, waiting for you, you bastard?

      — Mary, I have a client outside…

      — So what?! Now you prefer your work to me? You treat me as if I were your wife. Ah, no, right. I not only matter to you less than your work, I matter less than your wife, you just…

      — …Don’t cry…

      — …you just said…

      — Mary, somebody’s coming into the bathroom…

      — …You want to hang up on me, fine. Hang up, if you want. But if you do, don’t ever call me again, ever!

      — Listen, have you spoken to the manager?

      — What did you say?

      — …I’m not talking to you…hold on…a kid just came into the bathroom…have you spoken to the manager? He’s looking for you and seems to be in a very bad mood. That’s right, go find him fast, kid…

      — Of course it’s a lie, you always lie. It’s a lie, kid, don’t believe him!

      — Mary, can you be quiet? Do you want me to talk to you or not?

      — Oh, Don…

      — Oh, Mary…

      — You’ve lost respect for me, you shut me up, you insult me, you don’t call me…

      — It isn’t that, you know I love you, it’s just a…complicated time. Understand?

      — I guess I have no choice but to understand…

      — Don’t say that, Mary. Listen. I can invent a work conference this weekend. We could go to the country for a few days. Would you like that? You’d like it, wouldn’t you?

      — I don’t know.

      — Of course you would, I know how much you like the country…

      — And if your wife wants you to stay?

      — She won’t, we just spent a weekend together and she must be sick of me.

      — And we’ll go riding?

      — Of course. And I’ll give you a bouquet of yellow roses, the kind you like.

      — You don’t have to bother.

      — I will.

      — Really?

      — Oh, Mary, you know I can’t lie to you.

      — Am I still your little cream cake?

      — You’ll be that forever, darling.

      — Say it.

      — You’re my little cream cake.

      — Oh, Don.

      — Oh, Mary.

      — Oh, Don.

      — All right, pumpkin, listen, I left my client alone and…

      — Do you want me to hang up?

      — No, of course I don’t. I’ll call you this evening, OK? I promise.

      — You want me to hang up.

      — Mary, I already explained to you…

      — Well, I didn’t understand.

      — What is it? Why are you acting like this?

      — I just don’t know, Don. You always have so many things to do, and your family and your life and your life and your success. I don’t have anything, understand? Nothing but you.

      — The only thing that matters to me is you…

      — That’s not true. If it were true, you’d get a divorce.

      — Mary, we’ve already talked about this…

      — You never want to talk about it, Don, and you always say we’ve talked about it.

      — I’m going to get a divorce, Mary. My marriage doesn’t work anymore. But I can’t leave her now because of the kids, you know? They need a family.

      — Your youngest son is twenty-three, Don.

      — But even so it isn’t easy. Even so, you can be sure I’ll get a divorce, I’ll get it… I’ll get it before the end of the year…

      — It’s four years you’ve been saying that. I don’t know how much longer I can put up with it.

      — Mary, listen to me. You just have to have a little more patience, OK?

      — No.

      — What do you mean, no?

      — Just no.

      — What does that mean, Mary? You’re not…

      — I won’t put up with it anymore.

      — Mary…

      — Either you tell your wife what’s going on, or I will, Don.

      — Wha… ?

      — You heard me.

      — And if we talk this weekend in the country…

      — There won’t be any country or any weekend until you’ve told her…

      — Right.

      — If you don’t, I will…

      —