Jesse turned to me. “Funny how you went right to Spanish,” he said. “You really have come home.”
“Sí, Jesse. Estoy en casa otra vez. I am home again.”
I told them where the Hotel Los Jardines Hermosos was located. As we approached it, we passed by Señora Rubio’s menudo shop, and I smiled at the realization that I had almost ended up there married to her son. Ignacio had saved me, and now I was returning in hopes of saving him.
“This is our town square,” I said the moment we reached it. “At night, there is music and food. You’ll see tonight. That’s our church.”
“I think we can see that,” Jesse said, laughing.
“Don’t tease her,” Edward said, then winked and added, “too much.”
They both laughed at me.
“I want to see the house in which my mother lived. I brought a camera for that,” Edward said. “I plan on blowing the picture up into a poster and putting it on the wall in the living room.”
“She’d kill you,” Jesse said. Edward gave him an impish smile.
When they saw what was the hotel, they laughed again.
“And you called ahead and made a reservation,” Edward reminded him.
“Stop, please, Edward!” I cried.
“What?” he asked, stopping.
“These two women looking at us. They are the Paz sisters, friends of mi abuela Anabela.”
I lowered the window and waved to them. They stared confused for a moment and then both simultaneously brought their hands to their hearts.
“Delia?” Señora Paz said, walking slowly toward us.
“Sí, cómo está, Señora Paz?”
“Mi dios,” her sister Margarita said. “Es Delia.”
They looked at me as if I were a ghost.
“You are a grown woman,” Señora Paz remarked.
I quickly introduce
d Edward and Jesse and explained that we were there to visit. I knew they were full of questions, so I promised to stop by to spend time with them.
“You are a grown woman?” Edward quipped.
“They knew me only as a young girl. They helped me when I…” I stopped myself.
“Ran away?” Edward asked.
“Sí.”
“But, like Batman and Robin, we came to your rescue,” Edward joked.
“Your mother calls you the Lone Ranger and Tonto.”
They laughed, and we pulled up to the hotel. The owners, Señor Agular and his wife, Teresa, remembered me, of course, and, just like the Paz sisters, remarked about how grown-up I looked. They gave us the two best rooms of the six, both with windows looking out on the main street. None of the rooms had bathrooms, but there were two in the hallways, and at the moment, as was true most of the time, there were no other guests in the hotel. They made their living mostly from the small cantina. The cost of the rooms in American dollars brought smiles to Edward’s and Jesse’s faces, especially when they heard the price also included breakfast.
“Three lattes at Starbucks would cost more,” Jesse said. “Maybe we oughtta look into buying up some real estate.”