Epilogue One- Efren
TWO YEARS LATER
Wifey
Efren Nevarez! If you are late today, so help me god!
Efren
I won’t be Kitten, I promise.
Being late was subjective these days, considering we had twin toddlers and a business to run. Fifteen to thirty minutes late with twins meant you weren’t really late at all. But if I were late from work to the Carne Asada again, Alma would have my balls.
“Jefe. It’s that guy again, he’s here to see you.” Miguel says.
I curse under my breath. That guy is persistent, I’ll give him that, but why today? Of all days, why did he need to make a trip up from Houston today? I take my time dicing the rest of the tomatoes before I look up at Miguel, who is still standing there staring at me.
Miguel glances at the black onyx ring with the gold skull on my wedding finger. The one I took only because Alma had begged me, and it was the only way I could mend things for Alma and Genesis. Unfortunately, it was also a symbol to men like Miguel of my past.
When Alma and I opened Chisme, our first year in Corpus, neither of us received any handouts. Just a dream to start something that would give back to the community. We worked with the local and surrounding prisons and rehabilitation centers to give people second chances.
Miguel, like many others we hired were here looking for a second chance. At fifty, there were little to no opportunities available to him as a felon, but he made it work. He ran Chisme with pride, cried the day we promoted him to manager, and has been a mentor to so many who have come in after him.
“Tell him I’ll be out there in a minute,” I tell Miguel.
I’d be a hypocrite if I said I believed in second chances but denied my sperm donor the same. Life was too short to keep holding a grudge. Washing my hands, I reenter the coffee shop, walking to the dining section while greeting several of our regulars before spotting Patricio in the corner booth.
“El Gringo?” I say nodding to the cup as I slide across from him.
“Nope. This, I was told, was the Banana Loco.” He smiles.
Alma had created the drink menu, while I had created the food menu. The Banana Loco was a blend of banana, piloncillo, and caramel. Patricio looked like the kind of guy who turned down anything full of sugar or even joy, for that matter.
“So what did you want?” I say bluntly.
Patricio takes a sip of the coffee and looks down at the ring on my finger. He had given it to me with the only condition that I would give him the chance to get to know me. A losing deal considering what he gave up for monthly check-ins with me in this corner booth.
Somewhere after the sixth month of just staring at each other in awkward silence, I began to actually communicate with him.
After having the twins, I realized I didn’t want to harbor any feelings of resentment toward Patricio.
I didn’t know how to have a relationship with him, but if he was willing to make the effort, I’d meet him halfway.
“I found this.” He says, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a small prayer card, and handing it to me. “It was your mother’s. She had given it to me before I left Tijuana.”
“Thanks,” I reply, taking the card.
“Maybe you can give it to one of the girls,” he suggests.
Patricio had yet to meet the girls. I had been more than stubborn about it, but he never pushed and was content with the pictures I’d offer to show him on my phone. But today felt different. Something was pulling at me to extend the olive branch.
“Have you ever been to a cookout?” I say, looking over the man’s prestige suit.
“A cookout? Like a Carne Asada?” he says, his face lighting up. “It may not look like it right now, but I can get down at a cookout.”
_______
I stop at the gas station to grab some beer before making my way to Isabel and Manny’s house.
Patricio sits beside me in the passenger seat, loosening his shirt and tie.
If he’s nervous, he doesn’t show it, just a tight smile as we pull up into the driveway parking behind the pink car.
There’s music already playing from the back.
“Ey Efren! ?Quiubo homie?” One of Manny’s cousins greets me, and I pass off the beer to him.
The backyard is set up with several tables all full of families gossiping, a dance floor, and solar powered lights hanging.
Off to the side is Manny at the grill with Junior, giving him a lecture on how to grill carne asada.
I spot Alma sitting at the table with Bud, Isabel, and Soccoro.
She looks up smiling, before her eyes shift to the man behind me.
Alma had been the one to encourage me to make amends with the Consuelos. Every time she went to Houston to see Raquel and Ignacio, she would invite me, but it was never the right time.
“Hi, Kitten,” I say, planting a kiss on her cheek.
“Hi.” She says, smiling. “Patricio, Hi. It’s nice to see you. Here, sit down.”
Patricio greets Alma and takes an empty spot next to her, leaving me the spot between Alma and Bud.
“How are you feeling, Pa?” I say, tapping Bud on the shoulder.
“Mijo.” Bud sits up straight, his eyes shifting from Patricio to me. “Todo bien.”
“Hi, I’m Patricio. I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting.” Patricio extends his hand, and Bud takes it in his.
“This is Isabel, at the grill is her husband Manny, and their son Junior. This is their home,” I say.
“Mucho gusto,” Isabel says, and the two exchange greetings.
“And this is Bud’s girlfriend, Socorro,” I say, nodding to the woman sitting next to Bud.
Socorro’s eyes widen, and Isabel bites back a laugh.
“We’re just friends,” Socorro says nervously.
“Aye sure, Ma, whatever you say.” Isabel laughs.
“She’s the love of my life,” Bud says proudly, grabbing Socorro’s hand.
Her face goes red, and we all laugh. Bud had met Socorro at the oncology center during his treatment, where Isabel worked as a nurse.
One day, Isabel left her lunch, and her mother came up to bring her something, ran into Bud, and the rest is history.
They were both at a stage in their life where they needed companionship more than anything.
Alma leaves for the bouncy house and returns with Luna and Sol in each arm. Luna is calm, but Sol is kicking and screaming furiously.
“?Esa chiquilla loca!” Bud laughs, and Patricio turns just in time to see Sol bite her mom and run to me.
“Sol!” Alma yells, but Sol has already wrapped her arms around me.
“Hey, that wasn’t very nice to bite mommy,” I say, lifting her.
“These are the twins— Luna and Sol. You’re granddaughters,” I say, swallowing hard. “Say Hi, Sol.”
“Hola, hermosa,” Patricio says, offering his hand to Sol, who has now stolen the seat between us.
“And this is Luna, she is the nicer one,” Alma says, offering Patricio his granddaughter.
As expected, Luna welcomes his embrace, and his smile widens. Sol climbs over me and finds her new spot with Bud. I smile at Alma, and she looks at both the girls. Maybe family didn’t need to be that complicated.
Grabbing the bottle of tequila, I pour out shots for everyone at the table and stand with mine.
“I’d like to make a toast,” I say, rising. Manny lowers the music, and all eyes turn to me.
“Today marks a year since Bud rang that bell at the oncology center. It was a rough year of treatment, but he fought like hell. Not only are we celebrating his cancerversary, but we are also celebrating Familia.” My eyes shift to Patricio, who gives me a curt nod.
Alma beams up at me, and I’m not amazed with everything we’ve been through together. She was mine.
“To Familia,” I say, lifting my shot glass.
“Familia.” The crow repeats before taking down the liquor.
The music picks up, and I lift Alma and move to the dance floor. She molds into me, and I hold her tight. We’d both held on to hope for this moment, and it finally came. Out of all the destruction in our past, we were able to build our own version of happily ever after.