Chapter 4: El Juego de la Espera

Casablanca, Chile

A chalky stone turned into powder under Anthony's impatient right foot as he stood at the front porch waiting for his driver to arrive.

Why is Candelario taking too long to fetch his guests from Valparaiso? It normally just takes him 30 minutes to drive from there to Casablanca via Ruta 68.

From time to time, he would glance at the heavy iron gate of the estancia that leads to the casa expecting them to drive in. It dawned on him that when it comes to Cora, he is always the one to wait.

"Quien es Cora, Antonio?" Marisol, his wife, asked him one night when he brought up his plan to invite the Crawleys to Casablanca. He learned from Harold that Cora and her husband are coming to Chile.

"A very dear old friend" She raised an eyebrow wanting to hear more.

"Remember Harold, my childhood friend in Nueva York?"

"Por supuesto que si!" His wife's eyes lit up. She met Harold a couple of times in New York and he came once to visit.

"Cora is his older sister."

"Como I have only heard of her just now?"

"She lives in England for years now. She got married to an heridero in Northern Yorkshire."

"Oh!" This bit of information amazed his wife. "Have you met him? Su marido?"

"No. Not yet."

Truth is, he had not even seen Cora in years. Decades, in fact! The last time he saw her was in one of Martha's lavish but fun Thanksgiving dinners where his family was a regular. They were still in their early 20s, a year out of College. He was starting the rungs as a junior supervisor in one of the companies owned by her father. She was a docent at the MoMA poised to become a museum educator in a year.

It was on that same dinner when Martha announced of Cora's two-month trip to South America in two days.

"Oh, mi querida!" He remembered his jovial Chilean father Jose, or Joe for Cora's family, chiming in. "How I wish your father does not keep me holed in 1st Avenue for most of the week. I could fly with you and show you mi ciudad natal!"

"You should really learn to say no to father sometimes, Joe", Cora addressed his father teasingly. This brought a reserved smile from Isidore across the table.

Anthony's reverie was broken when the sound of car engine in subida cut the quiet atmosphere of the estancia. "Marisol, mi amor! They're here!" He called out to his wife inside the house.

The car entered the driveway followed by a cloud of thin dust. In a minute it halted by the front steps and the left passenger door opened. Cora jumped out of the car without waiting for anyone to open it and turned towards him half-running with a big smile on her face.

"Tony!" She called out in a lilt that was so familiar to him and embraced him tightly without reservations. He embraced her tightly too. The tall man who followed her out of the car—her husband, he saw a few pictures of him with Cora in Harold's social media account—stood behind her with a smile on his face.

Time almost seemed to froze at this exact point only to start moving quickly in reverse: three adolescents playing cards in Martha's Upper East Side living room, Harold being rowdy; the three of them attending the same piano lessons; barbecue party in the Hamptons, the three of them throwing marshmallows at each other, and Harold crying later; building sand castles in New Port and Cora's being the most decorative and ornate; her leaving for College in New Haven, her family and his family standing on the steps of the Levinson townhouse sending her off; their joint graduation celebration; her breathless excitement when she told him she got the job she aspired for at MoMA; the heartbreak in her eyes when she broke off with her first serious boyfriend; the Thanksgiving night when she bid her temporary goodbye two days before she left for South America.

After a couple of seconds, they broke from each other's embrace, his eyes stung with the familiar sensation that he bottled for years. He turned to see his wife standing by the steps behind him.

"Ven aqui, mi amor. Marisol, this is Cora, Lady Grantham, and Senor Robert, Lord Grantham..." The formality of the English was not lost on Anthony.

"Tony, just Cora and Robert please." Cora gently corrected him.

"Right, I'm sorry," he chuckled his apology. "Cora and Robert, meet my dear wife Marisol."

Robert, a gentleman, extended his hand to the couple in a warm and firm handshake.

"Hello, Marisol. Hello, Tony. It's a pleasure to meet you. Thanks for your hospitality."

"Why don't we all come inside? Adelante. Adelante," Marisol ushered them inside the house.

Both Cora and her husband thanked Candelario standing by the car before they followed his wife inside.

"Wilson, Juancho! Please bring the senor and senora's bagaje to their cuarto," he instructed the waiting ayudantes.

Inside the receiving hall, Cora unwound her scarf and turned to the couple. "Where are the children?"

"La nina mas joven is sleeping," Marisol replied.

"And the two boys are attending piano lessons," he added.

"Piano lessons?! I thought you have had enough trauma not to take it on the children."

Anthony laughed. "We do not have a scary Austrian instructor here." Their laughter echoed in the large room.

He then turned to Robert, "I hope you're having a wonderful time in my country."

"I am! Cora and I are enjoying every minute of it. We love every texture of life we experienced here," Anthony found himself falling in love with Robert's accent. Must have been the same for Cora, he told himself quietly.

After a few more warm exchanges, Marisol took the guests to their room which Anthony especially appointed. It has a really good view of the vineyard, the blue hillsides of Casablanca, and the tall cypresses that lined the driveway from the gate.

"Cora, Robert, mi casa es so casa. Feel at home!" Anthony called at them as they reached the head of the stairs. The couple turned to look at him down the stairs and muttered in chorus, "Thanks, Anthony, you're very kind."

By 4:00 o'clock, Cora, looking quite rested, came down and joined Anthony in the detached sitting area-cum-gazebo by the garden while Marisol was supervising the preparation of their merienda in the kitchen.

"You're living a charmed life, Tony." She remarked as she took in the expanse of the vineyard with the house in the middle and the processing plant on the farthest side to the west.

He chuckled. "How is this any different from yours?"

She didn't comment on this. Cora has always been self-effacing. In their youth, she never wanted to call attention to her family's wealth. They'd go watch movie in Tribeca with her in shabby clothes sometimes and he'd tease her. "You know what, you are not really successful in your attempt to blend in. You're doing reverse snobbery with those clothes." She would shut him up with her characteristic sharp side long glance or elaborate eyerolls.

"Have you always dreamed of this life, Tony?" She is always politely inquisitive.

"I didn't. Or at least, I didn't know it then. Just as much as I feel you also haven't dreamed of yours."

She turned to him and smiled. "Yes. How was I to know, Tony? We were young when I got married. At first, I only wanted to be better in my first job and then I came to South America and realized I wanted to do humanitarian work in the Amazons for a while. The next thing I knew, I was back in New York before I could get an interview in Sao Paulo and was married in a couple of months!" She recounted.

"That was so fast, Cora!"

"Our parents wanted it so fast. They made Robert and I part of their own business. Thankfully for them, it went well." She chuckled loudly at this. She is very happy with the way her marriage turned out, he is certain. No one could make a joke of one's marriage devoid of irony and sarcasm if they are not very happy. Harold, who was secretly proud of his brother in-law and nieces, also told him this every time he inquired about Cora from him.

"You weren't there, by the way."

"I was here helping out my abuelo remember? He was ill and couldn't take care of the business." She nodded in understanding.

His parents flew with Cora's family to England to attend her wedding. He was in Chile taking over his aging grandparents' vineyard. He could have flown in but decided not to. He didn't have the strength to see her married off to anyone. It would tear him apart. But she didn't know this then and she wouldn't know of this now. His special affection grew with them from their teens well into their early twenties and even beyond for him. He never had the courage to tell her. After all, every time they went to watch a movie, a concert, or a play together or just simply lounge in Martha's or his mother's swimming pool, wherever they fancy, she would look at him with those eyes as if he's a dear big brother. Besides, he always had the feeling that her parents have been setting her up for something bigger. People of their stature are bound to be, that's a given. While their families are especially close, his father was Isidore's right hand, and that is how Tony was also destined to be, not more than that.

She was already living in bleak England—as Martha would call it—with her young family and he was still struggling with his feelings in Chile pouring all his strength building up the vineyards in order to forget. There is no point telling her of this now, even more so that she is happy and obviously in love with her husband, and, on his part, he is also happily married to Marisol. Decades have passed, para que? The embers of his old affection had since extinguished themselves when love found him in his 40s.

He looked up to examine closely the face of the woman who unknowingly held his affection for years. They have both aged; she aged so well. She had lost the youthful plumpness of her cheeks but the paleness, the clear blue eyes, and the youthful excitement have remained. The years have not been successful in eroding her beauty highlighting it instead to perfection.

He almost saw her again during her father's funeral. He was really close to the old man—Isidore mentored him as he did with his father before him. He flew in from Chile to New York but had to go home immediately without waiting for the burial because he had to meet some business partners from Bordeaux. Cora and her young family were just set to arrive when he left. On his dear papa's death, Harold and Martha came to the wake bringing in flowers one of which was from Cora signed in her mother's handwriting. They had not connected well. There was no social media then. Harold, and Martha occasionally, were his only connection to her.

After a while, Marisol and Segunda, the kitchen maid, brought in a plateful of alfajores and a pitcher of cold lemonade. Cora clapped her hand. "Oh, that looks delicious. Alfajores, is it not? Your mother used to bake them, Tony."

"Yes, you always had the biggest helpings. Have some, Cora. We grow our own lemons here so there's plenty of those for lemonade." He replied as Marisol settled in one of the seats beside him.

Robert also came down to join them and the conversation flowed as if there was no interruption in time between the two friends until his youngest daughter woke up and was brought in by her niñera who deposited the girl on her mother's lap.

"Ah, here's little niña, Isabelle!" Marisol exclaimed.

The little girl took in the sight of the new faces. Anthony noted the child taking a special interest on the beautiful woman before her.

"That's Tia Cora, mi pequeña and that's Senor Robert. Vamos, say hola."

"Uncle Robert. Uncle Robert, Tony." Cora corrected him again, her husband gave his daughter a playful wink.

The conversation turned into a sharing of experiences about farming in Yorkshire and keeping a vineyard in the Chilean valley. Anthony and Robert discussing enthusiastically while Cora and his wife also drifted towards their own mutually favorite topics. His little girl has slowly since came down from her mother's lap and edged closer to where Cora was, looking up at her whenever she speaks until she was finally standing by Cora's side. Cora stopped mid-sentence and bent down to talk to his daughter. "Hola, Isabelle. That is such a beautiful name for a beautiful girl like you. Come. Do you like to sit with me?"

The child nodded shyly. "Ah, good girl." Cora lifted the girl to her lap. Robert's attention was diverted towards this scene. He took Isabelle's small hand and brought it to his lips for a light kiss. A low laughter broke from the girl. "Do it again, Robert, come on." Cora urged her husband. Robert kissed the girl's right hand once more and the girl broke into a series of laughter that's louder than the first. "She likes it!" Cora looked up at Isabelle's beaming parents. Just like that, his little daughter grabbed their guests' attention and the rest of the afternoon was spent looking at her shuffling from Cora's lap to Robert's and back again.

At dinner, he chose the most premium wine that his winery has produced, a vin rouge from a Bordeaux cultivar that has a sweet and robust taste which leaves just the right amount of warmth to the throat.

"Ah," Robert appreciated his wine. Anthony was amazed to discover that Robert is very knowledgeable about wine. They talked about it at length.

"Tony, are you still into photography?" Cora broke the topic.

"Yes, though not as often now but I still take pictures to unwind."

Marisol interjected, "Don't get him started on his photography. He'd talk about it for hours on end."

"Oh, so does Robert." Cora glanced at her husband who smiled back at her.

"What about we go drive around the valley and take pictures?" Anthony suggested to Robert.

"A photowalk? Why not? That sounds like a good way to spend our remaining time in Chile" The latter accepted the offer enthusiastically.

"What gear do you have with you?" Anthony inquired and the two drifted from wine to photography. Cora and Marisol were left to talk about something else as Isabelle found herself on the former's lap once again.

Anthony and Robert were engrossed in their conversation when Marisol signaled the time. Their daughter was fast asleep in her Tia Cora's arms. They parted ways at the foot of the stairs but not before the two gentlemen settled their planned trip together between themselves.

As Anthony and Marisol prepared for bed, he asked "So, how did you find our guests?"

"Oh, they are both lovely, Antonio! They are good to have in conversations. You could tell they are moneyed but they are so down-to-earth. Plus, Isabelle is so taken by Cora."

"And you?" she turned to her husband.

"I knew Cora from long ago. So, there's no question there. As for Robert, well, he is a fascinating fellow. A contrast, in fact."

"Why so?"

"You see, he clearly has his aristocratic ways but you can tell his heart is deeply provincial. When he talked about Yorkshire his eyes shone with deep affection that is not there when we talked about life and work in London. It's the same look he gives when we found ourselves talking about Cora."

"Also, his manners may seem to be making him stiff but you can see he loves to have fun when his guards are down. He has an easy laughter. I got the inkling that Cora may have brought that out of him. He might really be serious at the start and Cora must have eased him out of it. I don't know. You see, Cora can be serious and reserve too. But if you knew her well, or her family for that matter, you can tell that when it comes to fun she could be just as lighthearted and without fuss like her mother."

Marisol was taking his words in. He continued, "He is also quite magnanimous. I listened to him talk about his company and I gathered that he had his employee's welfare in his heart as much as he needs the profit."

Both were quiet for a while.

"Antonio, I've been meaning to ask you something…" Marisol said tepidly.

"What is that?"

"Please promise me you won't get mad or feel awkward."

"I'm starting to get scared now…"

"Por favor…" she implored.

"Okay. I promise."

"Is Cora…is she…I remember when we were still dating you opened up about your past. You told me of a woman you loved for years…is this woman…" This conversation was somewhat difficult for Marisol to continue so he said it for her.

"You're asking me if Cora was the woman I loved then?"

Marisol just nodded. "Yes, mi amor. It's her but that was a long time ago. For years, I spent nurturing my heartbreak but sometimes one could go on seeing the smoke even long after the fire has died down believing it is still there. So, don't you ever feel bad about this revelation."

"No, I don't. I know that. It's just…it's just I feel quite sad thinking about you two. What if you told her of your feelings some years ago? What if she had gradually felt the same?"

"So, you're saddened by the lost opportunity, the missed chance between the two of us?"

Marisol, ever the romantic, nodded.

"Well, there are designs in the universe that we cannot see at the beginning. They just unfold before us until we realize we are caught in them."

"I just love the idea of you ending up together if I were not to be a part of the equation."

He chuckled at this. His wife has the wit and spunk that he loves. "Have you looked closely at Cora with her husband even when they are not even talking? With him she was meant to be. And Marisol, please don't give her any indication of this. I don't want her to feel awkward even if I strongly suspect she'd laugh about this if she learns. But let us just let things be, okay?"

Anthony and Marisol toured Robert and Cora around the estancia from the vineyard, the processing plant, the cellar, and the sustainable farm and greenhouses that he kept.

"You've done quite a lot here. I like the zero-waste approach to your farm," Robert quipped.

"Thanks, Robert. The zero-waste policy is difficult to implement at the start."

"I wonder. We started a similar thing with my son-in-law in Yorkshire. I dare say it's one of those things that do not instantly pay-off but when they do the results are worth replicating."

Robert turned out to be an enjoyable company. On their third day in Casablanca, the two went driving down the valley, visiting some of the other famous vineyard, and stopping by to take pictures here and there.

They passed an empty red barn and jumped out of the car to take a photo of it. They walked around, squatted in the grasses, stood up, bent a little farther on one side, then to the other, just to find the perfect camera angle. Once done, they showed each other the pictures they took. Anthony was amazed at Robert's photographic talent: the technical skill, the grammar of photography captured in his pictures. His photography feels a bit rusty compared to Robert's.

"These are really great photos, Robert. These are the ones that sell highly in magazines!"

Robert chuckled. "Cora lectured me on the aesthetic and artistic principles of making pictures when she saw my first pictures. That has become my guide, I guess."

For Anthony, this made perfect sense with a wife who is learned in art theory.

They bonded even more in the afternoon and before they went back to the casa, they stopped by an old bar each grabbing a mugful of ice cold Cuello Negro Stout.

"Aaaah…" Both exhaled back after a glug of the beer.

"Ironic."

"What is?" The Englishman asked.

"This." Anthony gestured. "An Englishman and an American-born Chilean drinking beer in the middle of the afternoon in a bar in the Chilean valley famous for its wine."

Robert chuckled. "Well, isn't life full of ironies? And if we are ever caught in one, that means we are living life," raising his mug for a toast before he glugged his beer again.

Anthony followed suit. By the time they went back, Cora and Marisol were waiting for them in the family's outdoor sitting area. "Hmmm, I could smell beer from here." Cora's nostrils flared.

"We had a bit of life, darling." Robert replied with a sheepish look. Anthony noted Robert fields this kind of look to deflect Cora's ire and it seemed to work.

"Don't worry, Cora. He had just a mug."

"And the two mugs were for?" Cora seemed to put both men in the line of fire but she was obviously teasing them.

"For Antonio obviously," Marisol chimed in.

Dinner was served early that night. Both men looked tired. Anthony has a meeting the following day and Robert will go horseback riding around the Estancia with Rodolfo, the stable guy.

He let himself out of his small oficino in the planta at 2:00 PM and headed home bringing some of his papers with him.

He chanced Cora alone in the gazebo.

"Hello!"

She immediately put down her book. "Hello. Done with your meeting?"

"I am. Thank God! Where's Marisol?"

"She went out grocery shopping with Segunda."

"And Robert?"

"He just returned from his horseback riding an hour ago. I left him to rest."

"And did he have fun?"

"Yes! I bet he had! He was smiling from ear-to-ear when he came upstairs."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to see it. Have they given him lunch?"

"Yes, but he said he was quite full. Your farm manager gave them a picnic!"

"Oh, good for Armando to do that."

"Tony, I am really glad you invited us here."

"I know…" he responded with exaggerated flourish.

"Seriously! Really, Tony, I am. When I suggested to take a trip to South America, I wanted to momentarily take him away from work. I wanted for him to take a breather, and enjoy the downtime he needed."

"Is he that workaholic?"

"He can be and lately he buried himself with work in London."

"Does he go out with friends? It pays to do that sometimes, Cora."

"He does. But you see, most of the functions that he attended lately are official. He socialized with plenty of people but, you know, these are business associates, or charity friends, or people he knew in his social circle so…"

"Robert finds himself in constrained social events?"

"Yes, in a way, and most of the time."

"What about trusted friends, Cora?"

"He goes out with three or five however since they worked for him, sometimes, there are still inhibitions. But here, Robert is freer and relaxed. He only ever feels this way when he is with Shrimpy."

"Shrimpy?"

"His cousin's ex-husband. But Shrimpy is also busy these days with his job at the foreign affairs." She added, "He likes you, he likes you a lot! You gave him the comfort and company that he finds in Shrimpy."

Anthony went quiet for a bit of time. He felt overcome with emotion. "Thank you, Cora. I am touched by that."

Then, her playfulness returned. "Don't let that get into your head, Tony."

They laughed together.

He had always dreamed for this day to come: him and Cora meeting again and reconnecting like old times. They always had this easy companionship since they were introduced to each other as children by their fathers. Harold was always tagging along and though he could get irritating sometimes, Cora almost always indulged her younger brother. Seeing this, so did he. In their late teens, when he realized that he had special feelings for her, he started to put distance between the two of them but Cora would always seek him out not to mention that Isidore would always ask him to accompany Cora to Queens, to Harlem, or to Coney Island. Their separation in college put a slight reprieve for his aching heart but he also suffered at the same time because when one loves he or she would always long to see the object of affection.

Then Cora had her first serious boyfriend—the son of Isidore's business associate. That boyfriend seemed to fit Isidore and Martha's idea of the golden boy. His family was equally rich. They held stocks in some of the Levinson holdings. He had an MBA and he could charm everyone in the room. He used this effectively to his advantage.

Anthony stopped going to Martha's thanksgiving feigning illness, or exams, or whatever he could think of, certain that Cora's boyfriend would be there. Also, he wanted to put a space between him and his old friend in the hope that his feelings would fade out. But every thanksgiving Cora would call or come to his parents' townhouse personally inviting him— "Tony, I'd like you to be at my mother's dinner tonight please?"—so he would get up, prepare, and come to Martha's party. Sometimes, Harold would sidle by his side and whisper in a low voice, "That's not going to last" referring to Cora's relationship with her boyfriend. Half of him also wanted the relationship to end but not in the way that Cora would hurt; not in the way that she hurt. When they broke up and Cora was broken, he felt like he could kill her ex-boyfriend. He walked around Manhattan full of silent rage subconsciously hunting the guy down.

"Tony, what are you thinking? You are very quiet." Cora inquired noting his silence.

"You are very lucky with Robert, Cora, and he is even luckier in you."

She looked a bit embarrassed with this. "It was not very easy the first few years, Tony. Remember our parents put us to it. There were plenty of adjustments: culture, personalities, ambitions, climate…But in all our differences, we were bound by one thing in common."

"What's that?"

"Our commitment to make the marriage work out because there was no other option. I mean, the option was to divorce. None of us wanted that because we had children right away."

"How are they?"

"My girls?" Cora lifted her eyes to look at the distant cypress trees, a smile crossed her lips. "They are all lovely. They are beautiful, intelligent, and strong. They are as hardworking as their father and as down-to-earth as their Mama."

"I do not doubt that."

"My eldest, Mary, helps Robert manage the estate and the company based in London. My second, Edith, is a magazine publisher. My third, Sybil was poised to be a doctor but…" Suddenly, Cora had that far-away look and her eyes misted a little but she blinked away her impending tears and looked back at him.

"She died from birth complications."

Anthony immediately felt a big lump in his throat. For a moment he couldn't find his tongue.

When at last he found his voice, he stammered his apologies. "I'm sorry to hear that…Harold never told me. I am sorry if I asked too much, Cora. I shouldn't have…"

"Don't be sorry, Tony. It's alright. It's more than five years now. No one wants to lose a child, it's almost unbearable. But what was taken away from us was also replaced by a two-fold blessing: we gained a son in her husband and a delightful granddaughter. Tom, our son-in-law has most of Robert's trust."

"Well, as they say in Economics in university, in the end, there is no net loss". He tried to lighten up the mood.

"I also heard my father say that a lot." She is now smiling at him. Her pain shelved somewhere deep in her heart.

He was once again overcome with emotion. Time has written pages into their life stories and they need to exchange those notes once again.

"Cora," he begun. "Once you return to England, promise me, when you need someone to know the events in your life, you can call me and Marisol. When you are happy and you need to share it, call me, call us; when you're sad and you need people to listen, call; when you are mad and you need someone else to hear it, look for us in your phonebook."

"Thank you, Tony. That means a lot. I keep a small circle of trusted friends in life. I don't need much. I have them, I have you back, and I got Robert."

"Cora, I would say you have the strongest friendship there. When you are friends with your spouse, no amount of bad can dampen your spirit."

"That's so true, Tony."

He stretched his legs. Things have fallen into the right places. There are different kinds of love and there are loves that never go out. The romantic component of his love for his old friend may have died down but a love borne out of true friendship has remained, re-ignited by their reconnection. This love is willing to reach out and wait without the hurt.

Note: One more bonus chapter to go and this vignette series is done!