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Published: April 8th 2007
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The knock sounded three time. One for the meek, one for the bold and one for the story that's about to unfold…..Everard stood in the doorway surrounded by his luggage for Peru and his travels onward.
“Oh my god! Do you think you have enough luggage?!” JJ started helping him drag the bags inside our apartment.
“I know. I’ve been shopping and hopefully I can offload this on my father in Italy.” He looked sheepishly at the small mountain in our hallway. He pointed at the groaning backpack against the wall. ‘This ones for you. I’ll arrange for Marianne to come and pick it up when she gets to Buenos Aires.’
The night was still young, in fact premature by argentine standards. JJ swathed in her moo moo interrogated Everard about his travel plans to Peru amidst flopping on the sofa and pouring wine. It would be Everard’s last night in Buenos Aires and he was determined to be dancing right till the moment his taxi would take him to the airport in the wee hours of the morning. I sipped mate and flicked through the tango guide to find a place to dance for
the night. Preparations for another do it yourself night out. I heard the water hammer as the shower faucet was turned off and not long after Everard can steaming into the room to find a shirt. If I had a peso every time I saw a shirtless man in our apartment I would have three pesos.
‘Ooooo….shirtless man.’ JJ teased. ‘How do you keep so buff?
‘hmm….it’s Buffy!’ I said
‘I hope you didn’t use my razor.’
‘No I have my own, but I used some of your moisturiser. Hope you don’t mind.’ Everard had somehow grown accustomed to our tandem teasing and rolled easily with our girly punches. By the time he was putting on his shoes JJ had already showered and sashayed into the room in all her sequined red headed glory. Her perfumed filled any previously unoccupied space. Me and Everard futz about until the moment when JJ can no longer stand it and evacuates us from the apartment ready or not.
‘So who’s Marianne? Does she have our number? Does she speak English?’ JJ slung her long arm across Everard’s shoulders, which caused his arm to meet her waist. They engaged in a kind of call and response until JJ was assured that he had made the proper contingencies for his luggage to leave our apartment before we did. Three weeks ago complete strangers, and now rolling down the street like two drunken sailors, thick as thieves and stone cold sober.
The crowd outside the milonga was abuzz and people jostled to greet each other. Catching forearms and pulling bodies into embrace, kisses flying to land on smiling cheeks, eyes alight with recognition passed from one to another. Our trio slipped past not unseen.
As we climbed the marble steps we could hear the music ahead of us. Everard motored ahead of us and paid our entrances and smiled. As we caught up he said “tonight’s on me!”
‘Then we’ll just have to have champagne.’ I said, as we were lead to the table.
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