“There’s no solution,” said Negro, who had come by for a few glasses of wine. “They’re Trotskyists, they don’t know how politics work and they’re disgusted by the people’s happiness.”

From the kitchen, Julieta yelled that she deserved a little happiness, too, and could someone please deign to help her clean the kitchen. They ate like pigs, made messes like pigs, she said. Negro huffed a little, but got up to help. He came back from the kitchen with Gaspar, who was making dessert, and sprawled in the lounge chair. After a long time of searching, Luis finally had a job at a construction site downtown. He did a little of everything: foreman, some engineering work. But they couldn’t pay very many people well. Gaspar wanted to know how the job was going.

“It’s going well, the boys work like animals, plus, they’re much better than I am technically.”

“That’s not saying much,” said Negro.

“Go to hell. What can I do, brother? They won’t hire an engineer. Still, Sixto, the kids’ leader, is a natural at engineering, it’s really impressive. It just kills me that I can’t hire more people.”

Gaspar sat down beside Marita and served everyone strawberries with cream. She realized, as he leaned over her, that she missed his smell and his supple skin, the chlorine in his hair when he came back from swimming, the sex on the damp grass, at night, in that very yard where they were now eating dessert.

“You do hire some people,” said Gaspar, as he poured everyone a spritz he’d recently learned how to make. “I don’t know if it’s better with Cynar or Campari. You all can tell me.”

“This kid’s turned out all James Bond,” said Negro. “Must be his drop of English blood.”

“My, how unrefined,” said Gaspar. “This drink is Italian.”

“There’s nothing better than giving work, and it drives me nuts to have to turn people away every day. Every day, some kid comes by asking for a job, wearing a helmet left over from another site. We need people, but I can’t take anyone on. Some of them leave cursing, which is fine, but a lot of them go away resigned. Just two years ago, we used to grill out at lunch. Now we’ve got pork shoulder sandwiches.”

That day, Marita wanted to be a part of that family again. She stayed at the house even after Gaspar left, without saying where he was going. She suspected he was going to meet a girl, and she enjoyed the stab of jealousy she felt. A few days later she ran into Luis at the university cafeteria, and he told her that Gaspar had gone by the site to bring the workers barbecued meat and some sausages. He seemed moved, and Marita smiled, because Gaspar still had that way of listening, thinking, and acting without announcing anything. Still, Luis told her, I’m worried. He’s not doing well, he’s depressed. I don’t know if he’s taking his medication. He won’t listen to me at all now, he’s all grown up. Talk to him if you can, Marita, you’d be doing me a favor.