Evenings at the Argentine Club (2 page)

“They mean well,” Victoria said. “Besides, they’re probably right. I could stand to lose a few pounds, and I should make an effort to find the right man before I’m too old to enjoy him.”

Victor frowned. “So join a gym, give men something to look at, then pick one of the guys at the club. Easy enough.”

“Great, Dad,” she said, trying not to be hurt that he hadn’t said that she looked fine the way she was. “Love that plan. Now I’m going to the office to work or I’ll never get done and to the club in time.”

At the Argentine Club, Jaqueline checked her vintage Omega gold wristwatch, which Victor presented to her on their thirtieth anniversary. The weight of the thick band reminded her of the minutes ticking by. And the shimmering diamonds surrounding the face, which were supposed to represent each glorious year together, looked too ostentatious. Besides, the years hadn’t
been that glorious. She lowered her wrist and asked herself for the twentieth time,
Where is Victoria
? She hoped Victor hadn’t kept her at the restaurant too long. He knew everyone counted on her to help out on special days
like today. And July 9 was the most special of all. Even the air was charged with excitement as the setup crew arrived to
prepare the tables in the large auditorium-size hall and her friends Lucia and Nelly hurried to the back kitchen to make the
postres.

She returned to the table they had placed by the front door, where she had a list of who had called to say they would attend.
Opening the book and taking a seat, she waited for guests to begin arriving.

The club phone rang and she quickly answered. It might be Victoria or a cancellation. But it was neither. The call was from
Hugo Oviedo, a charming Mexican musician who had been trying to convince Jaqueline for months to let him perform at the club.
He had two children, and Jaqueline had her suspicions that he was interested in Victoria. Thankfully, other than urging her
mother to let him perform at the club, Victoria didn’t return his interest. Victor wouldn’t accept a man with children who
didn’t have a solid job and, on top of it all, wasn’t Argentine.

“Be more flexible,” Hugo coaxed. “Variety is good, Jaqueline.”

“I’m sorry, Hugo,” she said. The board wouldn’t approve any event that didn’t fit their strict objectives for the club, which
centered around the mission of celebrating the Argentine culture.

“I’m not going to give up. You guys would love me if you gave me the chance.”

“I’ve listened to you. I do love your music.”

“Then put in a good word for me.”

“I’m busy, Hugo,” she told him, even though she wasn’t at the moment. “And the answer is still no.”

“Is your beautiful daughter around?”

“No. And I told you, you’re too old for her.” That was another thing. The man was forty-one.

“She’s too young for me, and you’re married. Life is unfair,” he joked.

“Hugo, you’re a silly man.” But a nice one. Maybe she would listen to Victoria and recommend him. “I’ll suggest to the board
that they let you perform. But no promises, understand?”

“Gracias,” he said. “You’re wonderful.”

“Stop with the flattery. I’ve already fallen for it.”

He laughed. “I mean every word of it.”

“Call me in a couple of weeks and I’ll let you know what we decide.”

“I will. And Jaqueline?”

“What?”

“Happy Independence Day. See, I remembered.”

She smiled. “Good-bye.”

She made a note to bring him up at the next board meeting. Why not embrace a little variety?

In the back office of the restaurant, Victoria was ready to call it a day. She turned off the radio and sat behind the desk
to finish up. They had a wedding party scheduled in two weeks, one retirement party, and a large group that just wanted tables
grouped together next Saturday night rather than reserve the private room. Easy enough. She completed the paperwork and made
a few phone calls.

As she filed away the forms, she noticed a thick file stuffed in the back. She tried to adjust it, but the file tore. She
groaned and pulled it out. Half the paperwork tumbled out onto the floor. Victoria bent and started picking up the papers.
She placed them on the desk and went in search of a new file, but found instead an empty box that was supposed to hold file
folders.

Great
. She threw out the box. That was another errand for her to run—the office supply store.

She sat back down and started to straighten the papers, which were now partially upside down and turned around. But seeing
her home address on one of the forms caught her attention. She frowned and pulled it out of the pile. She wasn’t exactly sure
what type of form she was holding, but the more she studied it, the more it looked like a bank loan with the house and even
the business listed as collateral.

Although she’d gone to college for a few years as a business major to please her father, she’d hated it and quickly dropped
out. Still, even she could understand that this wasn’t good. What was her father doing?

She shuffled the paperwork and continued to read. Much of the legal vocabulary confused her, though words like
restaurant expansion
and
franchise
were clear enough.

“Victoria, I just had a thought,” Victor’s voice carried down the hall and he entered the office. “When you get to the club,
why don’t you—”

“What’s all this?” she interrupted.

Victor glanced at the desk, squinted, then his face seemed to lose its color and close down. No expression readable.

“It says you’ve applied for a loan.” She shuffled more papers. “You’ve got a business plan for two… no, ten restaurants? Ten?
What in the world is this?”

Victor drew a breath and stepped forward. He placed a hand on his face and slowly drew it down across his mouth and down his
chin. Then he took a seat across from Victoria, the desk between them. “That,” he said, “is my legacy. For you and your sister.”

Victoria frowned, not comprehending at all. “Dad, this is going to cost millions of dollars.”

“I know.”

“Mom agreed to this?” Victoria couldn’t imagine that she had. Jaqueline was the one who wanted both her and her sister to
get nice government jobs with guaranteed income, medical insurance, and retirement benefits.

He maintained eye contact, then started to shake his head. “I didn’t need her agreement. The house and the restaurant are
in my name.”

Victoria narrowed her gaze. Bad answer.

“You know how your mother is,” he said in defense. “She doesn’t understand business. And all she can see is the negative side
of things.”

No, she was conservative and careful. And she would flip when she learned about this.

“But”—he sat straighter and looked into Victoria’s eyes—“I turned sixty this year, gorda. I don’t know how it happened. One
day I was a young man, full of dreams and plans, and the next I woke up an old man.”

“Dad, you’re not—”

“Listen,” he said. “I didn’t come to America to get married, raise kids, and barely get by.”

“Papi, you’ve done more than get by.”

“Yes, but that’s not the point. I could have stayed in Argentina and done that. I came here to be someone. To make something
of myself. And I decided that it was now or never.”

Victoria stared at her father, seeing someone she wasn’t sure she knew. Wasn’t he the one who said, “Listen to your mother
and don’t dream too big. Take things slowly. Don’t ever rush into anything”? She had vague memories of him talking about making
it big someday, but that had been ages ago. When she was a teen. He hadn’t spoken like that in years. It was always caution,
caution, caution that she heard from both her mother and her father.

“This restaurant has done well. Has done spectacular,” he continued. “I’m going to open ten more within the next five years.
Then when they’ve all proven themselves, I’m going to sell franchises. By the time your kids are your age, La Parrilla will
be as well known as Ruth’s Chris or Morton’s The Steakhouse. They’ll know their grandfather came to this country a poor man
and became great.”

Victoria shivered slightly in her seat at the chills running down her spine. His excitement was something strong and palpable
and contagious. These feelings of future glory, of wanting greatness, were things she’d desired herself when she was younger
and dreaming of her future, but she had always been afraid to voice them. She’d felt it was selfish to want more than what
her parents had already provided. So she’d learned to be content. Still living at home, because it had been easy to stay put
while in college, and because her parents had wanted it that way. Working here at La Parrilla part-time and at a boutique
part-time. Owning a simple Saturn that got her around town. Life was easy.

Her father’s plans made her heart beat faster. If he was going for it, if he wasn’t satisfied with a satisfactory life, maybe
it wasn’t so bad to dream after all. But she was also well aware that he was risking everything on this dream. Success was
never easily achieved, and he was the one who told her that. “I don’t know what to say.”

He shrugged. “I wasn’t going to share any of this yet. The plans are still premature. The loans have been approved, and I’m
now contacting angel investors to get a good starting capital. In a couple of months, I plan to break ground on the first
two restaurants. One in Santa Monica and one in Newport Beach. Then I start looking for property outside of California.”

Even though all the paperwork was still in her hands, Victoria stared at him in disbelief. “This is… exciting,” she said stupidly.

Grinning like a little boy, he stood. “I’m glad you finally know. I’ve been dying from keeping this to myself. I can’t wait
to see your mother’s face when I take her to the openings of the new restaurants.”

“You’re going to wait until then to tell her?”

“Yes. So keep this to yourself. Understand?”

She understood. But she didn’t agree.

“In fact, while I’m getting these other two restaurants off the ground, I’ll expect you to put more time into this one. You’re
ready to take on more responsibility, Victoria.” With a pat on the back, he winked and walked out of the office.

Victoria sat in the chair, dumbfounded. Was he going to expect her to run this restaurant? She didn’t want to be responsible
for the restaurant. Truth was, she wasn’t interested in this type of business at all. And now he wanted to open ten more.
Victoria dropped her head into her hands. In her mind, hearing another door slam shut. Burdened, as always, with her father’s
plans for her life.

J
ust when Jaqueline was about to panic, Victoria flew into the club, arms full of things, her wavy, brown hair all over the
place, her clothes wrinkled.

Jaqueline stood from behind the welcome table. “Por fin, llegaste.”

“Yes, I made it, Mami. I’m not late. Don’t tell me you’re panicking.”

“No,” she said, faking innocence, “but you know no one does anything until you get here to tell them what to do.” Victoria
had an eye for color and patterns and item placement unlike anyone else’s.

“If only I had that much power.” She glanced around. “Okay, we need to get the light blue and white tablecloths on the round
tables. And the flowers should have arrived. Have they?”

“I don’t know.”

“How about the band?”

“Not yet.”

“Okay.” She dropped her bag on the table, on top of the notebook in which Jaqueline was checking people off as they arrived. “Let’s go find out.”

Victoria spun around and charged full speed ahead, almost running right into Lucia and Nelly, who had approached behind her. “Oh, Mrs. Ortelli, Mrs. Apolonia, hello.”

“Nena, llegaste,” Lucia said in a tone that meant to scold.

“But you didn’t get dressed,” Nelly said.

Victoria looked down at her olive-colored stretch twill pants and simple black blouse that tied at her waist—and in Jaqueline’s opinion outlined her breasts too much and her unflattering waist even more—and shrugged. “Didn’t I?”

“Today’s a special day, Victoria,” Nelly said. “You should wear something nicer.”

“You’re right, Mrs. Apolonia, but if I did, I’d be a mess by the time the night was over.” She patted Nelly on the arm. “I appreciate that you ladies are always looking out for me, though.”

Quickly, she stepped away and immediately got to work.

Jaqueline raised an eyebrow at her friends. “Don’t look at me. I’ve done everything I could with her. She dresses like every other American girl her age.” To herself she added that just because she was a big girl didn’t mean she couldn’t dress fashionably. After all, she was still young.

“I never had these problems with my Susana,” Nelly said. “And now she’s married, with three kids. She has a nice house. And all because I was strict with her.”

Jaqueline caught Lucia’s gaze over Nelly’s shoulder, and Lucia rolled her eyes. More than anyone, Lucia understood that children didn’t always behave how parents wanted, no matter what they might do. Her Eric left home when he turned twenty-one, turned his back on his family, on his culture, on everything he should have valued. As her only child, he broke his mother’s heart. And she didn’t speak of his betrayal. Ever. If she ever mentioned her son it was to say how well he was doing, how wealthy and successful he had become.