Chapter Sixteen, Part One

Susan sat on the edge of the fountain and turned the envelope over and over in her hands.

Richard and Susan Hill, it read on the outside. Montevideo Power Plant.

She hadn't opened it yet, but she knew what was inside, as if her fingers could read, Braille-like, the letters typed on its folded contents.

There were only two things it could have been. The first was notice that a government house had become available, but she knew that wasn't it. When she married Rogelio six weeks ago, she had put his name on the housing waiting list next to hers. Rich's name had come off the list when he died, almost half a year ago.

It felt like a lifetime.

Not that Rogelio didn't make her happy; he did. Or, rather, he tried. He was everything she could want in a husband -- he was warm, he was caring, he was witty, he was generous, he was intensely sexual. He seemed infinitely fascinated by her, and a little in awe, like a man who has finally bridled a wild mare and knows that his seeming control of her lasts only as long as she deigns to allow it.

Sea birds wheeled and called overhead. She shaded her eyes from the sun with the letter and watched them play tag with the clouds. Pretty soon, the fishermen would come, in their little white rowboats. Seagulls always know where the little fish are, and where there are little fish, there are big fish. She learned that from Rodrigo, Sandrine's husband.