Alma loved to talk about her favorite saint. “Oh, you haven’t heard of him?”
“Well, to be honest, I don’t know any of them.” He wadded up his concha napkin and tossed it in the trash. “Except…Saint Francis. He blessed animals. Didn’t this guy do that too?”
Alma was not going to shame Jaime for his lack of knowledge on saints. Not all Mexicans were Catholic, but Jaime technically was, though she wasn’t sure if he had ever been confirmed, which meant if they were ever to get married, he would need to take care of that if she wanted to be wed in the church.
Not that they would ever get married. She was so ridiculous. They weren’t even technically a couple.
“Well. Saint Isidore was the patron saint of farmers and laborers. It is said that he gave some of his last grain to starving pigeons.The townspeople were upset since they wanted that grain, but then a miracle happened, and the bag of grain was refilled.”
Jaime smirked. “I’m sure he was a great guy and loved animals. But I don’t believe in that miracle foolishness.”
“Well, I do.” She had to believe in something. Why not have faith?
But sometimes it was hard to believe in what she couldn’t see, feel, taste.
“So, what was his story?”
“He was married. His wife, Santa María de la Cabeza, was awesome also. Supposedly they had a son who fell into a deep well, but after his parents’ prayers, the water rose, and the son was saved. After that, the parents moved out into separate homes and took a vow of celibacy.”
Jaime’s face contorted. “There is nothing at all cool about that. They were married. They couldn’t have sex, and they lived in separate houses? So, the boy had to go to two separate homes? Believe me, from my experience, that sucks.”
“You have a point. That does seem awful.” Alma was so lucky that her parents were still married, and she’d never had to experience what Jaime had gone through. She was certain that was one of many reasons he was so hesitant to get into a relationship. When they were younger, it was more like a first-serious-relationship type deal, and now if they got back together, it would be more like a forever relationship. How could she expect Jaime to believe in them making a long-lasting commitment if he hadn’t seen that work?
“That is why I don’t like so much of this Catholic nonsense. They don’t allow gay people to wed, the priests can’t be married, and there is rampant sexual abuse. I was born Catholic, but I’llnever practice it. Today was cool, because it’s a fun festival and we’re honoring farmers, but I’m not into organized religion. Ramónis going to all these crazy Catholic marriage classes for Julieta. I would never do that.”
Tell me how you really feel.
“Alrighty then. I get it. You make good points. I’d like to get married in a Catholic church, just because I love the ritual and the tradition, and I want to make my parents happy. And Carlos has completely left the church, so I guess it’s up to me to fulfill that fantasy for my parents.”
Jaime stopped and tilted his head toward Alma. “Why did Carlos leave the church?”
“Oh, same reasons you said. Didn’t accept gay people, abuse, rigidity. All those things. I don’t blame him.”
“He’s a smart man.” Jaime grinned. “I like that brother of yours.”
Jaime became silent. Alma appreciated that he spoke his mind and had valid reasons for his opinions. If it worked out between them, would she be able to abandon her dream of marrying in the church? Would her parents give her their blessing?
Well luckily, or unfortunately, depending on how she looked at it, a Catholic wedding wasn’t even on the table for them.
Alma told Jaime a few more stories about Saint Isidore. There was an ease between them, a connection that felt as natural as the river flowing through Jalisco.
As the evening approached, the crowd gathered around the main square for the highlight of the festival—the crowning of the queen of the fiesta. Alma and Jaime found a spot near the front, their shoulders brushing, their hands occasionally touching, sending sparks of electricity between them.
The queen was crowned amidst cheers and applause, and asthe first notes of a romantic ballad filled the air, Jaime turned to Alma.
“Would you dance with me?” he asked, his hand extended toward her.
Alma’s heart raced. They had been dancing a lot lately. Back in college, their dancing had consisted of grinding to some old-school hip hop. Jaime had always been the life of the party, and she had been the shy, more studious type. But she was having a blast on this trip, and she had to admit, this was way more romantic than a trip with Zoila.
She nodded, placing her hand in his. As they stepped into the dance, the world around them seemed to blur into a whirl of colors and sounds. All she could see was Jaime, all she could feel was his hand in hers, his arm around her waist.
They danced through the song, and as it ended, they stood there, still holding each other, lost in a moment that was theirs alone.
“Alma,” Jaime whispered, his voice barely audible over the cheers around them. “I have traveled all over Mexico, seen many festivals, but nothing has captivated me like this place has. Though honestly, I think it’s the company I’m keeping.”
Tears welled in Alma’s eyes. She had felt the connection, the unspoken bond, but hearing his words made it real.
“I don’t know what happens next,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion.
