Blood-drenched Beard : A Novel (9781101635612) by Daniel Galera Page A

to cheer her up and keep her alive. She comes over, and he pats her head and runs his hand over the short, thick fur on her back, which is a dark blue-gray spattered with rust-colored spots.
    Scratch the back of her head, says Dália. She likes it.
    How do you know? My dad didn’t do that.
    Beta, Beta, come here.
    The dog immediately goes over to Dália. Dália grabs her by the skin at the scruff of her neck and holds her up in the air, a maneuver that to him seems violent, inappropriate for an adult animal.
    Don’t do that. You’ll hurt her.
    It doesn’t hurt. You don’t know dogs.
    Dália sits Beta on her thighs.
    That’s how her mother used to carry her when she was a puppy, wasn’t it, Beta? Tell him, girl.
    She vigorously rubs the back of the dog’s head, grabbing the loose skin there and massaging it with her fingertips. Beta curves her neck forward and closes her eyes.
    See? All dogs love it. They remember their mothers when you rub them here.
    His cell phone rings. He goes to get it from the kitchen counter.
    Guess who.
    Hello, Mother. Not exactly quantum physics.
    He goes outside to take the call. It is a replay of all their recent conversations. It starts with a few practical questions about probate, the inheritance, debts, and what to do with one of his father’s belongings, and soon progresses to her asking him to go to Porto Alegre for something and comparing him to his older brother in some way, always favoring the latter and accompanied by a failed attempt to hide what she really thinks. He tries to let it go but ends up protesting, and there is a joint effort to quickly finish the conversation so as not to end it in a really unpleasant way. Before hanging up, she asks if he intends to come home for Mother’s Day. He is irritated by the word choice of
come home,
and she says it’s just an expression and that he doesn’t need to get worked up. He says he isn’t worked up and really doesn’t feel that way. A better description for what he feels would be
tired
. He says he still doesn’t know and will think about it and let her know closer to the date. Right after he hangs up, he realizes that this will be the first time she won’t be taken out for lunch on Mother’s Day. The person who has fulfilled this function in recent years is him. He almost calls her back.
    Are you okay?
    Yes.
    Do you get along well with her?
    Pretty much.
    Must be hard for her to be left alone there.
    She’s fine. My dad left her some things in his will, and she’s mediating between me and my brother, because I don’t speak to him. She’s in good health for her age, and her boyfriend’s well off. His family owns a notary’s office. At any rate, the son who really matters to her is the other one. I was just the one who was available recently. She’ll soon get used to it.
    But she and your dad were divorced, weren’t they?
    Yes.
    Why aren’t you speaking to your brother?
    It’s not worth talking about. My family doesn’t make any sense.
    He dumps the cell phone on the table and sits on the floor next to her sofa. She caresses the back of his neck with her long nails.
    Do you think he likes this too, Beta?
    He sighs and feels his body slowly soften under the waves of pleasure radiating from the top of his back to the tips of his toes.
    I was wondering if I could ask you a favor, says Dália.
    She says she has taken a second job, and starting next week she’ll be working in a beachwear shop every afternoon in the nearby town of Imbituba. A friend of hers who lives in Silveira is a bank manager there and can give her a lift home every day in time for her evening shift at the pizza parlor. She needs the extra money so she can move to Florianópolis and go to university, a plan she has had to put off until next year. Her mother has diabetes and has a hard time walking, and she needs someone to pick up Pablo from school