tintico—is that the right word? And no saccharin today, I’ll have sugar. That way, we’ll be drinking exactly the same thing. United in pain and sweetness. Come over here, I want to show you something, look at this little box. It’s lovely, isn’t it? Touch it, see how soft it is. Smell it. It’s made of rosewood. Open it, don’t be shy, I want you to see what’s inside. What do you think? Do you like it? It’s my mother’s jewelry, inherited from her mother, who I never knew. I was my mother’s favorite, and I loved her too in my fashion, although I hated the way she was always bursting into tears, but then I would cry along with her. I think she’s the only woman who’s seen me cry, no, that’s not true, there was another one, not that I actually cried in her presence, but she did make me cry. But we were talking about my mother. I think she would have liked to have pictures and figures of virgins and saints around the house, because her family was very devout, but my father couldn’t stand that side of her, and she took her revenge by sucking our souls out of us, the mother hen covering her brood with her wings, sometimes I felt I was her son alone, not my father’s, she would give you everything, and although she always made it seem that she gave it all out of selflessness, really it was pure egotism, a way of stealing from my father the part of us that belonged to him. Do you like the pendant? And the earrings? It’s the only jewelry we own, it’s more than a hundred years old. My mother’s parents were quite well-off, you see, and they never forgave her for marrying a loser like my Dad. The stones are sapphires, go on, take them, you’ve more right than anyone. Put them on, let me see how they look. Oh, yes, lovely, the blue of the pendant and the earrings really suit your complexion. Take a peek in the mirror. No, don’t take them off. Keep them on. Today is our little party. But why are you crying? Tell your husband they’re a gift from an old man who’s very grateful for the care and affection with which you treat him and his even more ancient father. Why would your husband be jealous? Oh, kisses and tears together. Wet kisses. In those hundred years, the stones have lost none of their watery blue brilliance, and the white gold has lost none of its glow. The stability of jewels gives us hope, Liliana. Knowing that there are things that stay the same in a world that’s constantly changing and constantly growing more corrupt. There was a time when the Virgin of the Rosary of Chiquinquirá lost all her color, and then suddenly, one day, it all came back, and she looked more beautiful than when she was first painted. What if a miracle like that were to happen to us? What if all the dirt and murk around us were to be filled with color? Come on, Liliana, make some coffee. Don’t tell me you don’t want to drink a tintico with me. Did I say it right? Doña Liliana, would you care to drink a tintico with me? Sipping my coffee while I gaze on you all bedecked with jewels. We old people enjoy looking upon youth. My Uncle Ramón told me that. I was too young to understand at the time. One day, I’ll tell you about him.