Chapter 11 Cesar
Cesar
Rosa's house feels like abuela's kitchen.
Diamond squeezes my hand as we walk up the front path, the same way she does every Sunday, like she's still a little nervous even after a year of these dinners.
"Tío Scary!"
The front door bursts open and my nephew Jose barrels into my legs. He's six now. His sister Sofia is right behind him, eight years old and already bossing everyone around like her mother.
"Did you bring presents?" Sofia demands.
"Sofia." Rosa appears in the doorway, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "What did I say about manners?"
"To have them. But did he bring presents?"
Diamond laughs and pulls a bag from behind her back. "Coloring books and candy. Don't tell your mom about the candy."
"I can hear you," Rosa says, but she's smiling. She pulls Diamond into a hug, then me. "You're late."
"Traffic."
"Liar. You two were probably doing gross married stuff."
"Rosa." I glance at the kids.
"They don't know what that means." She herds us inside, the kids already tearing into their gifts. "Miguel's in the backyard pretending he knows how to grill. Go save the carne asada before he ruins it."
I kiss Diamond's cheek and head out back, leaving her with Rosa. They'll spend the next twenty minutes gossiping in the kitchen—they've become close this year, my sister and my wife. I didn't expect that. Didn't expect a lot of things.
Miguel, her husband, is indeed murdering the meat. I rescue it while he protests, and we stand at the grill together, beers in hand, watching the kids chase each other around the yard through the window.
"You seem different today," he says. "Good different."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. You've got that look. Like you're about to do something."
I just smile and flip the carne asada.
Dinner is chaos, the way it always is. Sofia and Jose fighting over who gets to sit next to Diamond.
Rosa shuttling food to the table while Miguel tries to help and mostly gets in the way.
Diamond fitting into all of it like she was born here, like she didn't grow up in penthouses with servants and silence.
She catches my eye across the table and smiles. I smile back.
"Okay." Rosa sets down the last dish and drops into her chair. "Before we eat, does anyone have anything to share? Jose, did you learn anything at school this week?"
"Frogs can breathe through their skin," Jose announces.
"Disgusting. Sofia?"
"Madelynn B. is a liar and I hate her."
"We don't use the word hate. Diamond?"
Diamond glances at me. "I think Cesar has something."
Rosa's eyes narrow. "What did you do?"
"Why do you assume I did something?"
"Because I know you." She crosses her arms. "Spill."
I reach into my jacket and pull out the envelope. Set it on the table in front of her.
"What's this?"
"Open it."
She does, frowning. Pulls out the letter. Reads the first line.
Her face goes white.
"Cesar..."
"It came through yesterday. Full pardon from the governor. My record is wiped clean."
Rosa stares at the paper. Her hands are shaking.
"Mijo," she whispers, and that's not the right word—she's my little sister, not my mother—but it's what abuela used to call me, and hearing it from Rosa makes my throat tight.
"It's real," I say. "It's done. I'm not a felon anymore."
She's out of her chair before I can brace for it, throwing her arms around me so hard she nearly knocks me over. She's crying. The ugly crying, the kind she'd kill me for witnessing and I hold her and let her.
"I'm sorry," she's saying into my shoulder. "I'm so sorry, I never meant for you to. you gave up everything for me, and I—"
"Hey." I pull back, grip her shoulders. "Look at me."
She does. Mascara running, nose red, still the most important person in my life after Diamond.
"I'd do it again," I tell her. "A hundred times. A thousand. You're my sister. That's never going to change."
"But you went to prison!"
"And I got out. And I built a life. And now I've got a pardon and a business and a wife who's way too hot for me." I glance at Diamond, who's crying too, the traitor. "I'm not sorry, Rosa. Not for any of it. So stop apologizing."
She laughs, wet and broken. "You're such an asshole."
"I know."
She hugs me again, tighter this time. Over her shoulder, I see Miguel wiping his eyes and pretending he isn't. Sofia looks confused. Jose is eating his rice and ignoring all of us.
When Rosa finally lets go, she turns to Diamond.
"You knew about this?"
"Since yesterday. He wanted to tell you himself."
Rosa pulls her into a hug too. "Thank you for making him happy. I didn't think anyone could."
"He makes it easy," Diamond says.
"I absolutely do not." I admit.
They're both laughing now, and I roll my eyes, and Miguel hands me another beer, and this is it. This is what I spent eight years dreaming about in a concrete cell. Not the pardon, not the business, not even Diamond.
This. Family. Belonging. A place where I'm not just tolerated, but wanted.
"Okay." Rosa wipes her face, takes a breath. "Okay. We're celebrating. Miguel, get the good tequila."
"We have good tequila?"
"The bottle I hide from you. Top shelf, behind the flour."
He goes. The kids start chanting tequila, tequila until Rosa threatens to make them do dishes. Diamond slides her hand into mine under the table.
"You okay?" she murmurs.
"Yeah." I lift her hand, kiss her knuckles. "I'm good."
"You're crying a little."
"Allergies."
"You don't have allergies."
"I do now."
She laughs and leans into me, and Rosa returns with shot glasses, and Miguel pours, and we raise our glasses to second chances and family and the long, winding road that brought us here.
"To Cesar," Rosa says. "Who went to hell and came back better than he left."
"To Cesar," everyone echoes.
I drink. The tequila burns. Diamond's hand is warm in mine.
A year ago, I was an ex-con with nothing. A business held together with duct tape. A future that didn't extend past the next job.
Now I have a pardon. A wife. A sister who won't stop crying on my shoulder. A niece and nephew who think I'm scary and cool in equal measure. Sunday dinners that smell like abuela's kitchen.
I have everything.
And I'm never letting it go.
THE END
***
Thank you for reading Diamond and Cesar's story.