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“No, Jacinto,” I replied. Because this could only mean one thing, and it was not the time.
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” he whined. Martina, his best friend, was standing right beside him wearing a bright pink dress. Her dirty blonde hair was pulled up into a loose braid that draped over one of her shoulders. She was smiling into her drink. They both had mischief in their looks, and I immediately knew he was up to something. “Por favor.”
“No,mamáte va a matar,” I whisper-hissed. “This is not the night for any of your shenanigans.”
“Uh-huh, because hergolden boyis getting married.” He rolled his eyes, and Martina giggled in response. Those two were inseparable and had been for years now. Even more since he returned to Tres Fuegos after law school. “Finally, if you ask me.”
“No one asked. And don’t get into any messes today of all days,te lo pido por favor,” I begged. I turned to face him and fixed his tie for him, like I’d done so many times in the past. “Martina,es en serio.”
She sobered at my warning, but I knew that the moment I turned my back to them, she would immediately acquiesce. Because this town had a soft spot for the Williams brothers, apparently. I eyed them both. Then Jacinto turnedaround dramatically and walked towards the house, huffing and puffing and talking animatedly at Martina.
Victoria was standing with Santiago towards the edge of the lawn, their fingers threaded together. She was leaning against his side, looking relaxed and entertained with the conversation going on around her. She was wearing an off-white bodysuit, the wide pant legs hitting the grass under her feet. Her brown hair was styled in loose, long curls, and her makeup was “on point,” as the youths would say, probably courtesy of Martina, the only hair and makeup person in our small town. She looked stunning. And happy. Both of them did.
But I digressed. The whimsy was everywhere tonight. There were string lights draping over the grass from the house to the tall trees in the back, and the larger ones had paper lanterns hanging from their branches, all lit up with candles on the inside. There was a long table immediately below it with two benches on either side. The top was covered in different floral arrangements of wildflowers, the reds and oranges and yellows burning in the night. If you looked closely, you could see what looked like hundreds of lightning bugs contributing to the setup.
Magic.
And the smell of flowers and rain was everywhere.
Granny was sitting at the table, laughing quietly at something my father was telling her. He was hovering over her, standing by the bench right next to her. Her gaze wasn't on him, but rather on my grandfather laughing loudly bythe pool, chatting with my aunt Julia and her oldest daughter. My cousin was doubled over in laughter at something he had said, and she was holding on to her mother for dear life. My grandfather’s eyes were shining with mirth, so much like Jacinto’s that it was disturbing.
I walked towards the table and sat to Granny’s side, tucking my long legs under the table. She turned to face me and smiled one of her soft smiles, so like the many she’d given us all our lives. She was a patient woman, made infinitely more so after she had grandchildren and we turned into a wild pack of hyenas when we were all together.
“What do you think Grandpa is telling them?” I asked her, and she chuckled.
“He’s probably telling them the story of how on the day of our wedding, it was raining so hard that as soon as he stepped out of the car, his shoe sank into a giant puddle of mud.” She took a deep breath and kept going. “And was covered in dark brown sludge so thick, he couldn’t get it out. He had to call the priest to help them.”
We’d heard this story multiple times throughout the years. Always at someone’s wedding. And every time they told it, it got more embellished. Wilder, just like our family as the years went by. I laughed with them and absorbed the scene—my brother finally marrying the woman he had loved silently for years, my parents seeing their home packed to the brim with people who loved them and their children, my closest friends thriving in their own lives.Everyone looked happy. Even my oldest brother Charlie, who was in the corner, contentment on his face, deep in conversation with Agustín and Catalina, Victoria’s brother and sister-in-law, who also happened to be her best friend.
Probably talking about work.
Definitelytalking about work.
“¿Y Jacinto?”she asked, her face softening for her actual golden boy. He had Granny wrapped around his finger. “I haven’t seen him yet.”
“He’s inside with Martina,” I said, immediately turning towards the door that led to the inside of the house, expecting him to come bursting out any minute. But the only movement was the catering staff and some of the guests lazily moving around and mingling on the back patio.
“Probably up to something, that boy.” She shook her head, and the corners of her mouth tipped up. Her hair was styled neatly in a short bob that she’d been sporting for a few years now, ever since she decided to let her grays grow in. She said it was because she was acoolgrandma. Not because she was old. But her eyes still shone with so much appreciation for life and love, it was enviable. “So much like your grandfather when we were kids.”
From the corner of my eye, I noticed one of my brothers making his way through the small crowd towards where we were sitting. The soft glow of the lanterns and the twinkling string lights seemed to reflect on every surface of his clothes, closely matching Victoria’s outfit. It wascasual, a white shirt tucked into khaki pants, boat shoes on his feet. He looked like a lawyer on vacation.
“Hola, Lu,” Santiago said as he kissed the top of my head. He sat next to me, draping one of his long arms over my shoulder and pulling me towards his body, so warm on this summer evening. It was late December, and the heat was usually unbearable, but, as luck would have it, it was a perfect evening.
I looked up at him, smiling widely. He looked relaxed, happy. Finally.
“You look good,” I said, scanning the crowd as we chatted. “She looks amazing.”
“Yeah,” he replied, his eyes immediately finding his soon-to-be wife and softening at the image. “Yeah.”
“It’s been a long time coming, no?”
“Thank you,” he said while looking at me, a soft smile on his lips. He was my closest brother in age. We were only eleven months apart, so from the start, we were treated almost like twins. We went to the city for college almost at the same time, sharing an apartment during his law school years. Jacinto replaced Santiago after he started law school a few years later, but Santiago and I remained close, sharing our daily lives and some of our adventures.
“For what?” I said, crossing my eyes and poking my tongue out at him. I heard his deep chuckle in my body, the vibrations extending from his arm to my shoulders. This was, indeed, a long time coming. More than ten years in the making.
“For this.” He waved his free hand in the air, first towards Victoria, then in a circular motion all around us. “Thank you.”
I reached up to squeeze his hand, holding on to it for a few seconds longer than I would normally do. I suspected Santiago was the only one in my family who thought that my abrupt departure from my hospital job had nothing to do with me being homesick or with that bad breakup. But he never asked any questions and instead lingered around me in silence, waiting patiently to see when I would talk to him. I surmised this had been his strategy with Victoria too.
