Evenings at the Argentine Club by Julia Amante

might as well have been a servant for all the attention they paid her.
    “How did the wedding reception go?” she asked.
    “Fine,” Victoria said, glancing up from her book. “Thanks, Mami.” She began adding sugar to her coffee. “I should skip this,
     but I can’t drink Argentine coffee black.” She added a little milk.
    “A little sugar won’t hurt you.” Jaqueline sat beside Victoria. “That Mexican musician, Hugo, called again wanting to perform
     at the club. I wonder how we can fit him in.”
    Victoria raised an eyebrow. “Coming around, are you?”
    Jaqueline liked the man. She wanted to help him out. But she shrugged. “Our events calendar is so full, I don’t know how we’d
     work it out.”
    “Just choose one of those boring Sunday get-togethers and turn it into a Mexican Day celebration. We could invite three or
     four different acts. Would be fun.”
    “Maybe,” she said. She glanced at Victor who was still to say more than “morning.” “You want some toast, Viejo?”
    “No.” He put the paper down and stood. “I’ve got to go open the restaurant. I’ll see you at the club later.”
    Jaqueline knew something was wrong but wasn’t sure what. He was even more distant than he normally was. She placed a hand
     on his arm. “Is everything okay?”
    “Fine.” He offered her a peck that was so different from the kisses they’d once shared. She wasn’t even sure why she noticed
     those things lately. It had probably been years since they’d been truly affectionate with each other.
    The phone rang and Jaqueline answered it. “Hello, Eric. Yes, she’s here, but she’s going to work with her father now.”
    Victoria glanced up. “No, I’m not. Is it for me?”
    Jaqueline held her hand over the mouthpiece. “It’s Eric.”
    Victoria stood. “I’ll take it.” She reached for the phone. “Eric, hi. Yes, I’d love to. Where? I’ll be there in half an hour.
     Okay. See you.” She took another drink of her coffee, then took the cup to the sink and washed it out. “I’m going to breakfast
     with Eric. See you later, Mami.” She walked past Victor without saying good-bye to him or discussing if she was going to stop
     by the restaurant.
    Victor turned away and left.
    With a sigh, Jaqueline cleaned up the spotless kitchen table. She glanced at the white board on the refrigerator where she
     kept the schedule for the day. Not so long ago, it would have been packed with obligations. PTA meetings, laundry, bank runs
     for Victor, take Carmen to soccer practice, Victoria to art class, shop for groceries, cook, volunteer at the Argentine Club.
     There was never enough time to do it all. Now time seemed to stretch out in front of her in an endless emptiness.
    After neatly organizing the receipts for July expenditures—now that the month was over—into a file for the Argentine Club,
     she had the rest of the day open. She went to the bathroom and opened the makeup drawer. She gazed in the mirror, wondering
     when her smooth, creamy face had begun looking so thin and creased with wrinkles. She applied some makeup to cover what lines
     she could. On her tired, lifeless brown eyes, she dabbed firming cream to refresh tired lids. A little shadow, and some lipstick.
     Then she brushed her hair and teased it into the same bell shape she’d worn for twenty-five years.
    She gazed at the reflection, barely recognizing the woman she’d become. She wondered if Victor felt the same way when he looked
     at her. If he asked himself,
Who is this woman that I have to come home to every night?
She went into her bedroom and dressed for the day in a pair of brown slacks and an olive green blouse.
    Finally ready, she went to sit at the computer where she’d begun to visit the blogs and Web sites that kept her company during
     the day.
    Victoria drove to the shopping center down the street from Eric’s house. He said he’d be sitting at the outside patio of a
     doughnut shop, and she spotted him right