New Skies

 It was six o'clock in the afternoon. From the tower's wide windows you could see the silvery brown of the Río de la Plata and in the background a darker strand of the earth; a doubtful vestige of the Uruguayan coast. He closed the computer, put on his jacket, adjusted his Italian silk tie, and went out. The elevator hall was abuzz on the higher floors; at peak times a lot of people got together. The operations manager's secretary was absent. He waited a few minutes, let others climb, and there being no more excuses, when the second elevator came, he went up.

In a few more seconds Santiago was on the ground floor and crossing Alcorta. The wind released in the free spaces between the high buildings of the avenue and the long shadows of the hour made him cold. He raised the lapels of the jacket and entering Marcelo T. de Alvear felt warm.

The Irish pub on the corner of Reconquista was packed. The hustle and bustle were unbearable but he found the desired end-of-day atmosphere. Two-for-one happy hour. One, two, three dark beers and peanuts. He spiced up smoked ham and black bread sandwiches with mustard and pickles to muffle the effect of the drink. She didn't show up, and the beers followed; one, two, three more, until he ended up embracing the Hindu. Vishna was part of the "Kilkenny" pub. With uneven teeth, he wore an embroidered jacket with close-fitting buttons covered in fabric up to the neck. Dark-bearded and turbaned, he spoke in strangely accented English. Anyway, Santiago understood him perfectly. It was said in the corridors of the pub that he had come as an employee of a commercial mission of a company, but he liked Argentina. He got a job as a programmer and decided to stay. The conversation did not last long, an hour later, they both ended up drunk.

The next morning his head was splitting, he went to the bathroom, took a shower, changed, and his instincts demanded a double black coffee. He looked at the agenda on his BlackBerryand at ten there was a meeting with the manager of his best account. When he went to the kitchen, in search of the saving concoction, he came across Vishna. Fried eggs sizzled in the skillet with raw ham substitute for the missing bacon. The smell of fresh coffee mixed with the smell of frying. Santiago didn't understand anything, he only managed to accept the coffee offered by his occasional friend. He looked at his watch and told The Hindu that he had to leave the apartment for the meeting and that he should accompany him. He nodded, finished eating, made him wait a few minutes while he finished dressing and they went out together. When they were in front of the taxi, Vishna promised to meet him again at Kilkenny.

-Dear Santiago, I want to give you the answer you need to your question last night- Vishna said as a farewell and added:

-Please do not miss-

The meeting was endless, the headache did not stop despite the double portion of aspirin. The manager had taken to questioning everything. Santiago took note of each of the requests, did not answer anything, lowered his head, and wrote down trying to appease his interlocutor. The technique worked and at noon he got away.

The afternoon was nice, closed the blackout, drew the curtains, and darkened the office. He warned his secretary not to bother him. He dozed for about twenty minutes in his chair until his cell phone rang and he woke up. It was his ex-wife reminding him that he had to take care of Martina; his daughter. It was Tuesday and Analía had a literature workshop. He gathered his things and went to the appointment.

When she entered the apartment, her ex was ready to go, very groomed and flashy, with war feathers on. He greeted him with feigned cordiality and gave him an urban kiss goodbye. He felt strange, uncomfortable, absent, and without a solution, but he did not stop looking at the fret. He still felt a strong attraction for her. When he entered, he observed that the baby was in the skin, with her tail in the air, crouched down, with her hands on a netbook. He had no chance to say anything and just enjoyed the beautiful image of his daughter. Martina was very pretty; with light eyes, wavy blond hair, and the same blue eyes of his ex that made him so in love. The soft light from the window covered his baby with a dreamy halo.

He only managed to say:

- Marti, you are everything to me, give me a kiss.

The girl abandoned the net-book, hugged him, and he felt the soft warmth of Martina, the smell of infantile perfume, and could not stop hugging her. They played and laughed together all afternoon.

When Analía arrived it was eight at night. The time was up. She couldn't keep quiet, but this time she only asked Santiago to remember to pay the expenses. He nodded, grumbled, gave Martina a kiss, and left his old apartment.

Flores was far from the center and decided to take a taxi that took time to find.

-Marcelo T. de Alvear y Reconquista- please said Santiago to the taxi driver.

The traffic was friendly, light, and in thirty minutes he reached his destination. When he entered the pub he saw Julia and walked over.

"Hello, how are you Santiago? I haven't seen you for a long time," she said.

-How do you want to see me if your boss has you kidnapped- Santiago answered, with a hint of irony.

-It's that your client has the Operations sector fully occupied- Julia answered with a mockery. And he added: -Sit down-

He got a chair, settled down next to it, and ordered a beer. Suddenly, Vishna approached the table, and Santiago introduced him to Julia and invited him to join them. After a few minutes, Santiago regretted it, the Hindu had taken a lot, got heavy, and insisted that he knew the key to happiness, that he knew the answer that they both needed to answer. They met their gazes, and although they did not admit it, they wanted to hear Vishna's answer. Half serious and half-joking, and trying to get rid of it they asked him how much the secret was worth.

"A few dollars," replied the Hindu.

-But I love you very much and I'm not going to charge you- and he told them in a low voice, trying so that no one could hear him:

-A proverb says in my country:

"Sometimes you have to accept the fact that some people have entered your life with temporary happiness."

They looked at each other, smiled, and alone they left for Puerto Madero.

Julia did not speak of her ex-partner again and Santiago had finally understood her relationship with Analía.

The next morning, the sun was pouring down on Santiago's office when he arrived. He walked over to the window and drew the curtain further to let in light.