“Just do it!”
“Mamá. I thought you retired.”
“Oh, it’s just one demonstration. This time, we will take a break to honor your father with the altar.”
That was a good reason to get dressed. Julieta couldn’t believe it would be her second Day of the Dead since Papá had passed away. A year ago, she had been a wreck. This year, she was much more stable. She’d created a beautiful altar for him at the restaurant, and this time, she did not feel as guilty about working on Day of the Dead.
“Where’s your makeup?” Mamá asked.
“Amá, you’re insufferable.”
“It’s a traditional event. Anyway, reporters could be here—they may take pictures. You always want to look your best.”
She looked at Mamá, who was breathtakingly beautiful. “Fine.”
Julieta applied the makeup. She drew in her lips, but Mamá didn’t have any patience for her.
“No, let me.” Mamá snatched the pencil from her grip and began the makeup herself.
Just as she had a year ago, Julieta’s mother applied rhinestones to her face and created a spider motif on her forehead. She drew black lines in her lips as if her lips were sewn shut.
They arrived in Old Town, where the celebration was in full swing.
Julieta grabbed her chiles and walked toward the square.
A year ago, she had been so sad, and now she couldn’t even imagine being happier.
Julieta quickly began prepping all the ingredients. In addition to the tacos, there would be enchiladas and chicken—mild and hot— spicy salsa, tres leches cake, and guacamole and nachos.
Mamá talked about the evolution of fish tacos in America, and how she had inspired the Taco King. Then they taught the children how to make sugar skulls.
After the event was over, Julieta made sure not to miss the procession to the graveyard. She lit her candle with Mamá and walked in the line behind all of the other people to the cemetery.
Though Ramón was not by her side this year, there was still something so magical about being with a group of people who were all honoring their loved ones. Many people thought the Day of the Dead was like Halloween, or had something to do with devil worshipping, and neither of those was true. To be surrounded by a group of people who all understood the holiday was priceless.
“This one’s for you, Papá.” She filled a shot glass with tequila from a flask, just as Ramón had done a year before. She toasted to Papá, and then filled another and left it for him.
What a night. On her way back to the car, she stopped in the garden near the fountain where she’d seen Ramón. How handsome he was, how he’d looked at her, how he’d made her feel.
Mariachi music boomed louder in the distance.
She looked up, and there was Ramón, backed by a huge mariachi ensemble.
Shock washed over her. “Ramón!”
He smiled and kept singing—her favorite: “Abrázame.”
A crowd soon surrounded them on all sides. Enrique and Jaime stood together in the crush.
Ramón had become an even better musician on the guitarrón. Hearing him backed by a full ensemble made Julieta swoon. She loved the sounds of the violin, the trumpets, and the vihuela coming together to create the perfect song.
The song ended, and she ran over to Ramón.
She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek, smearing his makeup.
“You came!”
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. It’s our anniversary.” His voice deepened.“ ‘O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?’ ”
