“De nada.”
Ramón struck a match. The flickering flame cast shadows across her face as he gently held it to the wick of her candle. She cupped her hands around it, a giant smile on her face as if the two of them shared a secret.
Ramón lit his own candle for Abuelo, then gestured toward El Campo Santo Cemetery. “Shall we?”
“Yes. Thank you.” She nodded, and slowly, respectfully, theywalked out of the plaza, down San Diego Avenue for a few blocks, toward the most sacred of grounds.
Something about this moment—it was so right. Normally, this wouldn’t be his idea of a first date, but he wanted to do something special for this enchanting señorita in the moonlight.
Juliet covered the flame with her hand as they walked, finally arriving at the cemetery. The tragic beauty of the graveyard gutted him, reminding him again how lucky he was that Papá was still here. The crosses were decorated with marigolds, and the colorful papel picado lined the white fence cheerfully, despite the aura of sadness that made his heart feel heavy in his chest.
Juliet placed her candle in an empty glass holder by one of the altars. Ramón put the guitarrón down.
“Did your dad drink?”
Juliet cast a downward glance. “Too much.”
Got it.“Shall we give him some liquor?”
Her eyes widened. “Yes. He’d love that.”
Ramón took out his flask of tequila and poured a shot into the glass for her father and another one for Abuelo. “Want to toast him?”
Juliet nodded as he handed her the glass and she placed it at the altar.
“Who is the other shot for?”
“My abuelo. He was a great man.”
Juliet nodded. It was nice to share this moment honoring their relatives with someone else who respected and understood this holiday.
Ramón then poured two more shots and handed her one, a tiny fission of excitement thrilling through him as their fingers touched.
Juliet raised the glass to her lips. “¡Salud!”
“¡Salud!”
They downed the drinks.
“I also have paper and a pen if you want to leave your father a note.”
Juliet exhaled. “Yes, please. Thank you.”
He handed them to her and collected her glass. She placed the paper on top of one of the altars, scribbled some words, and then folded it over. She wrote “Alejandro” on the top and tucked it under a sugar skull. She handed Ramón the pen, and he quickly wrote his own note to Abuelo and placed it near a candle.
She knelt at the altar and made the sign of the cross on her chest before standing up to face Ramón.
She bit her lip. “Can I ask one more favor?”
“Sure. Anything.”
“Would you sing a song for him? He loved music. He used to sing to me as a little girl...” Her voice choked up.
Damn. He hadn’t planned to sing another song tonight but wanted to make her happy. “What did he sing, beautiful?”
“¿Y cómo es él?”
Ramón gulped, grateful that he knew that song but reluctant to sing it due to its meaning. Though many people thought this was a song about a betrayed man, it was actually written by a father who finds out his daughter is to be married and wants to get to know her future husband. Definitely an awkward choice for Ramón to sing. But how could he say no to her? “Of course.” He picked up his guitarrón and strummed and sang. The lyrics hung heavy on his soul.What is he like? Where did he fall in love with you? Where is he from?The words had even more meaning in Spanish. It was almost as if Juliet’s father was trying to get to know Ramón from beyond the grave.
