Ángel se sentía ansioso. Le parecía que el reloj andaba a paso lento y quería que llegara la tarde para ir a ver a su nueva amiga.

No le había preguntado su nombre, pero escuchó cuando la hermana la llamó para comer y supo que se llama Domitila. Ella, mientras tanto, pintaba un lienzo con trazos desordenados. Estaba debajo de su cama. Con picardia logró dibujar la bicicleta con la canasta y las botellas de puré, los tomates verdes y el chico que rondaba su patio. No sabía su nombre pero sonreía al imaginar su charla de esa tarde.

El sol bajó y Domitila salió al patio como de costumbre. Su amigo ya estaba esperándola y hablaron hasta que la oscuridad de la noche los envolvió. Llamaron a la muchacha para cenar y entre risas y guiños coquetos se despidieron.

Durante la cena todos pudieron notar la sonrisa inexplicable de Domitila. No podía parar de sonreír. Y en su cabeza el nombre de su nuevo amigo daba vueltas. Ángel. Se retiró a su habitación después de comer y su padre le recordó el compromiso que tenía con el baile y que por esos días iría con su hermana y su madre a buscar los vestidos en la casa de la modista.

Pasaron los días. Y la cita de los muchachos se hizo habitual. Hablaban de aventuras imaginarias, de ir a la playa y recolectar caracoles, de volar papalotes y comer muchos helados. Les encantaba la compañía el uno del otro. Estaban enamorados.

Mientras los muchachos se dejaban llevar por los sentimientos adolescentes, el padre de Domitila también cultivaba sus propias ilusiones. Sabía que aceptar a Manuel, el capitán de la guardia costera, como yerno, le daría mucho poder en sus negocios y le aseguraría a su hija una gran fortuna para el resto de su vida ya que la familia de Manuel tenía una importadora de vinos y por lo tanto mucho dinero.

Por otro lado estaba el interés del padre de Manuel, que aseguraba que su hijo tuviese una esposa hermosa, educada y de buena familia. Agrandaría las propiedades y la fortuna de la familia con esa unión.

Todos tenían un interés en ese casamiento. El capitán, que tenía fama de ser un Don Juan y enamorar a las muchachas del pueblo, no veía la hora de desposar a Domitila con la que había cruzado dos o tres veces los buenos días. No conocía los gustos de la muchacha, ni su forma de pensar, pero al final eso no le importaba, solamente le interesaba tener una esposa que lo representara y Domitila llenaba el perfíl que buscaba.

Llegó el día de buscar los vestidos. La hermana de Domitila estaba tan contenta por ver a su hermana comprometerse. Aunque era manor no habían encontrado un candidato para que fuese su esposo. Ella sería la dama de honor y eso le daría oportunidad de que los muchachos disponibles se fijaran en ella. Al contrario de su hermana amaba los bailes, los vestidos de encaje y ser admirada por todos. Eran totalmente diferentes, como el agua y el aceite. Pero se amaban la una a la otra y siempre estaban juntas.

La madre de Domitila estaba orgullosa, sabía que su esposo había resuelto un buen partido para su hija mayor y que no le faltaría nada nunca.

Hasta la modista tenía su interés en esta unión. Todos los invitados al baile mandaron a hacer sus vestidos y trajes con ella. Tenía tanto trabajo que contrató tres costureras.

Se probaron los vestidos. Las muchachas estaban hermosas. Tenían bellos encajes, la tela era importada y costosa que la madre seleccionó y un velo de encaje para ella.

Finalmente la madre de Domitila quedó muy satisfecha con el trabajo de la modista. Tanto, que le dijo que mandaría a hacer el ajuar de novia de Domitila con ella. La modista se alegró tanto, que les regaló unas bolsitas de tela con pétalos de rosa para perfumar sus cajones.

Todos tenían un interés en esta unión. Menos Domitila. Mientras pensaba de qué hablaría esa tarde con su amigo Ángel, caminaban por la calle principal del pueblo. Escuchó las botellas de puré de tomate y por instinto volteó a buscar a Ángel, que se quedó embelesado mirando a las mujeres cruzar la calle.

Ángel no se imaginó nunca lo que estaba por venir.

Chapter II.
Everyone has an interest

Angel felt anxious. It seemed to him that the clock was ticking and he wanted the afternoon to come so he could go see his new friend.

He had not asked her name, but he listened when her sister called her to lunch and learned that her name was Domitila. She, meanwhile, was painting a canvas with messy strokes. It was under her bed. With mischievousness she managed to draw the bicycle with the basket and the bottles of mashed potatoes, the green tomatoes and the boy who was hanging around her yard. She didn't know his name but she smiled as she imagined their talk that afternoon.

The sun went down and Domitila went out to the patio as usual. Her friend was already waiting for her and they talked until the darkness of night enveloped them. They called the girl for dinner and amidst laughter and flirtatious winks they said goodbye.

During dinner everyone could notice Domitila's inexplicable smile. She could not stop smiling. And in her head the name of her new friend was going around. Angel. She retired to her room after eating and her father reminded her of the commitment she had with the dance and that for those days she would go with her sister and her mother to look for the dresses at the dressmaker's house.

The days went by. And the boys' rendezvous became habitual. They talked of imaginary adventures, of going to the beach and collecting shells, of flying kites and eating lots of ice cream. They loved each other's company. They were in love.

While the boys were indulging in adolescent feelings, Domitila's father was also cultivating his own illusions. He knew that accepting Manuel, the coast guard captain, as a son-in-law would give him a lot of power in his business and would assure his daughter a great fortune for the rest of her life since Manuel's family had a wine importer and therefore a lot of money.

On the other hand, there was the interest of Manuel's father, who ensured that his son would have a beautiful, educated wife from a good family. He would increase the family's property and fortune with this union.

Everyone had an interest in this marriage. The captain, who had a reputation for being a Don Juan and for making the girls of the town fall in love, could not wait to marry Domitila, with whom he had said good morning two or three times. He did not know the girl's tastes, nor her way of thinking, but in the end that did not matter to him, he was only interested in having a wife who represented him and Domitila filled the profile he was looking for.

The day came to look for the dresses. Domitila's sister was so happy to see her sister get engaged. Although she was older, they had not found a candidate to be her husband. She would be the maid of honor and that would give her a chance to be noticed by the available boys. Unlike her sister she loved balls, lace dresses and being admired by everyone. They were totally different, like oil and water. But they loved each other and were always together.

Domitila's mother was proud, she knew that her husband had worked out a good match for her eldest daughter and that she would never want for anything.

Even the dressmaker had her interest in this union. All the guests at the ball had their dresses and suits made by her. She had so much work that she hired three seamstresses.

They tried on the dresses. The girls were beautiful. They had beautiful lace, the fabric was imported and expensive which the mother selected and a lace veil for her.

Finally Domitila's mother was very satisfied with the dressmaker's work. So much so, that she told her that she would have Domitila's bridal trousseau made with her. The seamstress was so pleased that she gave them some little cloth bags with rose petals to perfume their drawers.

Everyone had an interest in this union. Except Domitila. As she thought about what she would talk about that afternoon with her friend Angel, they walked down the main street of the village. She heard the bottles of tomato puree and instinctively turned to look for Angel. He was enraptured watching the women cross the street.

Angel never imagined what was to come.