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whattimeisitintokyo · 5 years ago

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Somos Familia Ch 36: The Prodigal Son (Part 1)

The Prodigal Son (Part 1)

The following year passed without much turmoil coming to the Rivera's, much to everyone's relief. Ernesto had been buried in a grand mausoleum taking up a good chunk of Santa Cecilia's cemetery, and Imelda was sure he would have approved the size and stature of it very much. It was nearly buried in flowers and cards from his adoring fans on the day of his funeral, as well as the next year when Dia de Muertos came and his death and memory were officially honored for the holiday.

Imelda had taken Miguel to the mausoleum as well as Coco and her own little family, so they could pay respect to their fallen godfather. Héctor had come as well, but he remained silent during the whole visit and was the first one to leave.

Imelda couldn't blame him. For months he had been tormented with vivid nightmares of the night Ernesto had been gruesomely killed, forcing Imelda to wake him up as he had laid in bed groaning and crying in his sleep, trapped in his dreams.

It took a while before Héctor was able to finally sleep through the night, and a little while longer before both he and she were ready to finally become intimate with one another again. In many ways it was so much like their first time all those years ago when they were teenagers, scared and embarrassed but so in love, only now they were so much older and burdened by the many curveballs life had thrown at them.

However, after shy kissing had given way to the passionate lovemaking they had both been craving for years, Héctor had laid back in the bed with his wife in his arms, both slick with sweat and panting, and grinned.

"You've… still got it."

And more joy had soon followed. Not long after Héctor had returned home Coco had discovered that she was pregnant again. Julio was over the moon and kissed his wife with such passion and Rosita squealed and hugged them both with bone-crushing intensity. Victoria pleaded with her parents that she wanted a sister, not a brother since Miguel was more than enough, and Coco was smacked with a melancholy sense of nostalgia. She had demanded the same thing when she was younger, and she did get a sister. Only to lose her later in life.

Luckily Victoria's wish was granted, and in the late summer Elena was born. A much rounder baby than Victoria had been, she looked like the perfect mixture of both her parents, and from day one she had latched on to every member of the family with unconditional love. And, ay, what a loud baby! Her cries would shake the walls. If it had been some other time in life Héctor would have said that little Elena would have been a great singer that could have projected her voice all throughout Carnegie Hall.

But he never did.

Because ever since the night that Ernesto had died there had been no music in the Rivera's house.

Héctor shied away from Mariachi Plaza from the day he set foot back into Santa Cecilia. The only times he listened to the radio were to hear about news and sports. He poured his time and energy into other business ventures that had nothing to do with music, but had greatly reaped multiple benefits for his family and jobs for many other people: hotels, restaurants, a canning company that specialized in pork products, and schools that were scattered across Oaxaca.

Meanwhile his white calavera guitar, a present lovingly gifted to him by his wife on his birthday all those years ago, was tucked away in a closet, hidden away by hung clothes and slowly gathering dust.

But he was more than ever invested in spending his free time with his family, having missed them so much while he was away. Watching Miguel and Victoria develop their personalities, senses of humor and discover their own interests as they made their way out of their toddler years was always a treat. And Elena was so different from both of them even as a baby, so full of personality already, and she never failed to make Héctor laugh until his sides hurt.

There was one vital piece missing: Matty.

His last letters had come at the beginning of the year, after he had been shipped off from Africa to aid the troops in Anzio, Italy. And for a while all was well. He had complained a little of being stuck there as weather had bogged down the troops' advancement further inland, but other than that he was in high spirits. He talked more about his friend Martín, how he had spent most of his time scouting the area and putting up barbed wire, boring stuff really. All was well.

That was three months ago.

Before that he was managing a letter every week to allay their fears for his safety. From February to April there was absolutely nothing, and the family was frantic. Imelda sent several demanding telegraphs to the United States, not truly understanding who was exactly in charge of these things but desperate to reach anyone who could explain what was happening to her son. Héctor was sick with worry, nearly tearing his hair out in fear and nightmares consuming him once again.

And just when they were reaching the absolute peak of their terror of their son's safety, close to hopping on the first plane to Italy, damn the dangers it would pose to them… a telegram was delivered to them. An army telegram. With shaking hands Héctor took it from the delivery boy, not breathing as he read it. And his insides were flooded with the most enormous rush of relief that he had ever felt in his life as he read aloud:

To Héctor Rivera, Santa Cecilia Oaxaca, Mexico

Papá, I am so sorry it took me so long to write you. I have been injured and have been officially discharged. As soon as I am able to I will make it back home to you and our family.

Mateo Rivera

There had been a rush of emotions as the words registered to the whole family, and Héctor was too overwhelmed to really remember much of what happened then. There was screaming, shouts and laughter, and Héctor was faintly aware that he had managed to lift Rosita off the ground to spin her around and plant a huge kiss on her. And then Miguel had managed to grab his attention with a ride grin of his own.

"Matty is coming home, Papá?"

"Yes!" Héctor had cried as he twirled his little boy in a huge circle. "Your brother is coming home!"

It had taken a little while longer for him to actually get there, however. A whole month to be exact. But they had kept in touch through quick telegrams, and one evening there was a phone call and his parents were finally able to hear his voice. He had made it to Juarez and would be taking a train all the way to Santa Cecilia.

"No, no! A train is too long and strenuous mijo! I'll wire you some money to take a plane."

"Ay… It'll be too… difficult to use a plane Papá. I'll be fine on a train, don't worry."

And so that's were he and Imelda were two days later as the train pulled into the station, Miguel being held by Imelda, as they watched the passengers slowly exit. As more and more people poured out and the train became seemingly empty, Héctor felt that ever present pang of worry forming in his stomach. Did Matty miss the train? Had something happened? How could something happen now, after escaping the hellfire of war only to have bad luck fall on him before he even made it home?! That's all Héctor had these days: Just bad, rotten luck! How would he be even able to find him-

"Mamá! Papá!" Miguel screeched out as he wriggled in Imelda's grasp and pointed towards the rear railcar. "There he is! There he is!"

Héctor followed to where Miguel pointed at and… there he was.

Matty slowly made his way down the steps of the railcar as carefully as possible, being supported by an unknown woman and leaning heavily on two crutches, his face scrunched up and strained. Once he set foot on solid ground did he let himself relax with a great heaving sigh, and Héctor could see what the last two years of war had done to his boy.

Matty was only twenty-one years old. He looked thirty-one. His hair, which he usually kept slicked back and out of his face, was now much longer and hung disheveled over his forehead and was sticking behind his glasses. His face was covered in a scratchy stubble that was almost formed into an actual beard. And Dios, he was so thin! Even from a distance he could see his arms trembling to hold himself up on his crutches. His boy needed his help!

"Mateo!"

With a short start, Matty jerked his head up and peered throughout the bustling crowd in search of the voice that had called out his name. As soon as their eyes locked, all of the weariness on his face melted away and Matty's face cracked into the biggest smile that Héctor had ever seen him make. With renewed vigor he started making his way over to them on his crutches, slowly building up speed towards his family.

"Papá! Papá!"

Héctor wasn't going to wait for him. He wasn't going to let his son painfully hobble towards them. He would come to him instead. With several quick strides Héctor met Matty in the middle of Santa Cecilia station with a joyful whoop and crushed him into the biggest hug he could give him, the biggest hug he had been wanting to give him for the last two years now. And then Héctor did the one thing Matty had begged him to never do again ever since he was seven years old:

He grabbed his son on both sides of his face and peppered rapid-fire kisses on his cheeks.

"AGH-NO! Papá! Pap-pppt!" Matty tried to squirm out of Héctor's vice-like grip, his face squished into comical distortions and his glasses knocked askew. "Papá, stop -mmph! Papá, prr frr-vrrr!"

With one last loud smooch, Héctor crushed Matty to his chest again and cradled his head tightly. "Matty! Mi hijo! Mi niño precioso!" He held his son even closer, refamiliarizing himself with the feel of his child in his arms. His warmth, his scent, his solid presence. His son was back in his arms, alive and whole, just like he had promised two years ago in this very spot. His son had come home. "Matty… I'm never letting you go again."

"…Please let me go." Matty wheezed out. "Shot… hurts!"

"Ay!" Héctor quickly released Matty from his death grip and propped him upright. "I'm so sorry, mijo. I'm just… so happy to see you!"

Getting his breath back, Matty smiled faintly at his father. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you too." Glancing over Héctor's shoulder he practically melted at the sight of his mother. "Mamá…"

"Mateo!' Imelda sobbed and pulled him into an equally joyous, but much less painful, one armed hug with Miguel joining in happily. "Ay Matty, I was so worried! Are you in pain? Do you need to sit down? You're so skinny!"

"I'm fine Mamá, gracias." Matty smiled warmly. "If anything, sitting for so long on the train hurt more than standing now. Miguel! Look how big you are! You're practically a man!"

"I missed you Matty. I almost forgot what your voice sounds like!" Miguel said, not noticing the way Matty's smiled dimmed a little and a flinch of pain creased his brow. "Did you get shot?" Miguel asked with innocent curiosity. "Did it hurt?"

"Miguel!" Imelda hissed.

"It's alright Mamá." Matty said tiredly. "We'll talk about that later, okay gordito? I just want to look at you all right now, I missed you sooooo…"Matty trailed off as he was finally able to drink in his family's appearance , and when he finally settled on Héctor his eyes widened and his voice trailed off in shock. "Papá!"

Héctor smiled lovingly at his son, not noticing his mild horror. "Yes, Matty?"

"Y-… Your hair…"

"Ah yes, I'm styling it now." Héctor chuckled as he raked his fingers through the slicked back bangs. "I'm too old for that messy, boyish look. It suits me, no?"

"Not that!" Matty said in exasperation. "Papá, your hair is gray! Really really gray!"

Héctor huffed and patted his hair down with a pout. Yes, it was true that his hair over the last year had grown… a touch lighter. 'Stress' his doctor had told him. Fine, he could live with that. He didn't need to be reminded of it though! "It's slate, not gray. Besides, I'm an old man. Of course my hair would lose it's color over time."

"Not this much when you're only forty-three!"

"Oh come on, I think it makes me looked distinguished."

"You look like you got hit in the head with flour!"

"Now wait just a minute-"

"Ahem… Um, Matthew?"

A soft, accented voice broke Héctor away from the banter with his son and his brow furrowed in confusion. Matthew?

Turning towards the voice Héctor and Imelda saw a woman standing a few feet away from them, pushing a wheelchair in front of her. By her outfit Héctor was able to recognize her as the same woman who had helped Matty down from the train, but looking at her now he could see that she was… different. In fact, she stood out like a sore thumb against the numerous people bustling through the train station, some even stopping to gawk at her.

She was very pretty, that was for sure. She wore a dusky blue traveling suit, complete with a small matching hat, and dainty white lace gloves. Her brown hair was curled into several tight ringlets that framed her thin face and her large eyes were that faintest blue that Héctor had ever seen. And her skin was very, very pale. This woman… was not Mexican.

Matty held out a hand towards the girl for her to take, which she did with a soft and dimpled smile. And when Héctor turned to look at Matty he saw a look cross his face that looked alarmingly familiar.

It was clear to everyone that Matty was the spitting image of his father, albeit a more scholarly version. But their mannerisms were completely different. While Héctor was dreamy and expressive, Matty was stern and reserved. Aside from looks he and his son were as different as night and day. But the look on his son's face was eerily similar to a look he once saw on himself when he glanced in a mirror. A dopey, gob-smacked smile and drooping eyes that made him look like he was drunk. And this look only happened when he was staring at Imelda.

Love-drunk.

Ay, Dios mio…

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart." Matty spoke in English as he took her hand and drew her closer to his family. "I got so caught up with my family I almost forgot to introduce you, but let me do that now. Wanda, this is my father Héctor, my mother Imelda, and my little brother Miguel."

Switching back to Spanish, Matty held the woman close to his side and addressed his parents with a wide grin. "Papá, Mamá, this is Wanda Mae Neely. She is… a very good friend of mine."

"Mamá." Miguel whispered loudly into Imelda's ear. "Why is she so light? Is she a ghost?" Imelda jerked him sharply in her arms with a harsh shush, but Miguel continued to stare at the woman with intense awe, mouthing 'La Llorona'.

Wanda bowed her head a little and did a slight curtsey. "Gusto en con-o-cer-lo, Señor y Señora Rivera. And you too-ah, I mean-… Ee yee tu, Miguel. No, that's not- Y Tam-bien?... Usted?"

Héctor smiled warmly as the poor girl's face started to turn bright red with embarrassment. "It's alright, Miss Neely. You can speak English when you're around us, no need to fret. Right Imelda?"

Turning towards his wife, he couldn't help but smirk as Imelda was looking at the girl with a guarded, yet still wary expression. Then she looked between Wanda and her son with growing apprehension and Héctor felt his smiling widening. Not a nice feeling, is it Imelda? To see that your son has found another woman in his life. Oh ho ho, how the tables have turned.

But seeing his son look at her with such a softness that he had never seen before made Héctor both happy and extremely relieved. Dios knows that Matty deserved it. "Any friend of our son's is a friend of ours." He said.

"How do you know my son?" Imelda asked pointedly. While it was true Imelda's fluency in English wasn't as strong as Héctor's and one could believe that she was just asking in the most basic way, Héctor knew her enough to know that she was purposely sniffing out any abnormalities in this relationship that she could pounce on.

Wanda seemed to catch on to the slight hostility and blushed even harder. "Oh, well… I was a nurse stationed in Texas before I joined the war effort. I had to process the recruits before they were sent off, but I couldn't speak Spanish so I found Matthew- er, Mateo- and he became my unofficial translator. Then by chance we were both stationed in Africa together, so we got to know each other more after that."

Now that was strange. In all the letters that Matty had sent him over the years not once did he mention a girl as sweet as Wanda. Mostly they were talks of his travels, the friends he had made, complaining about weather and food, as well as dealing with a shrill and demanding harpy of a woman who exploited him for her own needs-

Oh!

"This is the harpy?!" Héctor exclaimed as he pointed at Wanda.

In English.

Matty's face lost all color in an instant and he made a painful choking noise before glancing frantically at Wanda, who for her part was smirking with a raised brow. "N-no! Wanda that's not-! Papá, what are you doing?!"

"Dios mio, Matty. When you were complaining so much about that nurse in your letters I always imagined an old, spiteful crone. Not this beautiful señorita standing before us."

"That's not true! I-… I specifically said that she was pretty…"

Wanda giggled softly and rubbed Matty's shoulder as it was now his face that was turning bright red. "That's alright Mister Rivera. We didn't start off on the right foot. And trust me, I've called him much worse things."

Héctor nodded with a chuckle and Imelda hummed in slight approval, a slight smile twitching her lips. Alright, this girl was good.

Looking down at the wheelchair still being pushed by Wanda, Imelda said, "Mateo, maybe you should sit in the wheelchair now. We'll wheel you to the car."

"What? No I don't need to…" Suddenly Matty let out a gasp and turned towards Wanda, horrified. "Martín!"

"Oh, hell!" Wanda cursed, quickly turning around and made her way back to railcar, nearly plowing through the crowds of people in her haste. "Lo si-en-to! Lo si-ento!"

"Matty, what's going on?" Héctor asked.

"Ah-… I have… one more friend coming with us. With all the excitement I keep forgetting everyone, it seems." Matty chuckled nervously. "It's kinda why I didn't want to take a plane. But I've written about him a lot, it's my friend Martín!"

"Some friend!" A loud voice shot out from the crowd. "You and Wanda left me literally hanging on the doorway! Gangway pendejos, make room! And be careful Wanda, you're dealing with precious cargo here y'know!"

Wanda huffed out a sigh as she pushed the wheelchair with Martín in it. "I can't understand you when you speak Spanish, Martín."

"Well you'll have ample time to learn it with Rivera." Martín said with a sniff, brightening when he saw Matty with his parents. "Speaking of! Señor Rivera! It is an honor and a privilege to meet you! I have been waiting two years to personally shake your hand! My name is Martín Reyes!"

Héctor stared at the young man seated in the wheelchair. Martín had a very stocky build, but he could tell that most of his muscle mass had already wasted away a little with his uniform fitting him loosely. His hair had been primped and poofed into an impressive pompadour, and he had a gleaming wide smile. Cleanshaven and smelling strongly of cologne, Héctor could tell that Martín had groomed himself as best as he could to make a good first impression.

But he couldn't detract his attention away from the fact that the poor boy's left leg from above the knee was completely gone, the pant leg tied into a tight knot at the end. Miguel was already staring at it with wide eyes, with Imelda quickly whispering in his ear and making him nod his head in agreement.

Héctor's heart sank for the boy, but he smiled and grasped his hand firmly. "It a pleasure to meet you Martín, and we all thank you for your services. Matty wrote about you a little in his letters, I'm glad he found a friend in such a trying situation."

"No, I'm glad he befriended me!" Martín said with a laugh. "If he weren't there to save my hide back in Italy I would have lost more than my leg, that's for sure! I am hoping, however, that I'll get some Rivera Shoes at half off though!"

Héctor and Imelda stared at Matty in astonishment. "You saved his life? Oh, Mateo… You're a hero?"

"Well, he saved me after-" Matty started, but his words caught in his throat and he gazed towards the ground, emotionless. "We'll talk about it later. Si?"

Imelda stared at Matty for a minute, before nodding and turning back to Martín. "Still, after all of that, you must be glad to be home, Señor Reyes."

Martín shrugged. "Actually, I'm from Texas, Señora Rivera. My parents immigrated there before I was born. I've always wanted to come Mexico to find my roots, though ever since I've met Rive-uh, Mateo- I've found a… new reason to want to come here."

The way that Martín's face seemed to soften at that last statement drew Héctor's attention back to him. And the way he kept covertly sneaking peeks at the people passing by made it clear that he was looking for someone in the crowds. Someone specific.

"Where is Coco?" Matty asked, causing Martín to perk up at the question. "I'd thought she'd be here too."

Imelda smiled. "Oh, she would have! She's just as excited and relieved that you're finally home, however… the baby woke up from her nap a little too early, so she had to stay behind."

Matty's face split into an ecstatic grin at the news. "A new baby! Really?! Wanda, I have a new niece!"

Héctor nodded. "Elena. She is such a fireball, you're going to love her. The cutest little gordita ever!"

"Gracias a Dios for that!" Imelda laughed. "I'm tired of having flaco family members. It's about time someone in this family has some meat on their bones. Speaking of which, Coco and Rosita are cooking dinner for tonight. Is there anything special you want them to make?"

"Everything."

Startled, Imelda blinked at her son and shook her head. "I'm sorry?"

With an increasingly manic glint in his eye, Matty smiled widely. "I have been eating K-rations, 24-hour rations, minute meals and oatmeal for the last two years. The most exotic spice I've had across my tongue has been pinche salt, and if I see another can of tinned meat I'm going to chuck it into the sewage where it belongs. So I want everything that you have ever made me since the day I was born, covered in cheese, swimming in mole sauce, and smothered in peppers. And I want seconds. And I want thirds. I-want-to-EAT….."

Héctor and Imelda stared wide-eyed as Matty smiled maniacally, a thin stream of drool creeping out of the side of his mouth. Holding Miguel close to her, Imelda laughed nervously and turned to walk away. "Ha… Well, I'm always glad when my children want to eat… J-just… wait here while we pull the car around."

As they walked quickly away, Héctor whispered, "I guess now wouldn't be a good time to bring up the Papá Rivera Canning Company…"

Waiting for the couple to return for them, no one noticed the trio left behind conversing with each other in English.

"Ay, she's not here." Martín whined as he subconsciously gripped the thigh of his bad leg. "I thought she might be hear to greet us, but…"

Matty patted Martín on the shoulder comfortingly. "Relax, amigo. You heard Mamá. She's staying behind to cook dinner."

"That's right." Wanda said. "Just half an hour more and you'll finally get to meet your armada."

"... What? Oh, no it's amada, sweetheart."

"What did I say?"

Pulling out a wrinkled, worn out foto from his breast pocket, Martín looked at it lovingly. The beautiful image giving him much needed strength, just like it had done for the whole time he had been fighting in the war, he nodded. "You're right. I've waited two long years to meet her. A half hour won't hurt."

--------------------------

When they arrived at the Rivera house it was surprisingly Oscar and Felipe who had greeted them first, their shouts alerting everyone else that they were there. Matty was delighted that his uncles had come all the way from Guadalajara just to see him, and the twins gasped in mock offense.

"Not see our own sobrino?!"

"After he's been gone for two years-"

"-fighting in a hellish warzone-"

"-on the other side of the world?!"

"You wound us, Matty"

Matty ducked his head sheepishly. "Si, you're right. I'm sorry I worried you all."

"Also, we have soooome shoe designs we wanted you to look at first." Felipe said as he whipped out an inch-thick folder crammed with dozens of wrinkled blueprints. "Get your opinion first before Imelda immediately vetoes them."

"Ay, tios, that can wait until later!" Coco said, Julio and Victoria trailing behind her while she carried a squirming baby in her arms. "Bienvenido a casa, hermanito!"

Matty hugged his sister warmly, letting her kiss his cheek, and turned his attention to the baby with a small coo. Elena glared at him, a stranger, with as much vigor as a nine-month old could muster. She looked him up and down, trying to gage who this scruffy man was and what he was doing here. When her Mamá gently told her that this was her Tio Mateo, her family, the change was instantaneous. Soon Elena was beaming a four-toothed grin as she reached out for this new member of her beloved family, which Matty was all too happy reciprocate as he took her and held her close. Everyone laughed and aawed as the baby pressed a sloppy kiss on his nose and then tried to tear the glasses from his face. He had officially passed the test.

Both Coco and Rosita were ecstatic to meet and get to know Wanda, who had already been nearly crushed twice by a Rosita hug, and told her they would need to teach her everything they knew if she wanted to learn how to cook for Matty. While the ladies had retreated back into the kitchen to retrieve the plates of food, the men chatted out in the courtyard as they set the table. Facundo went on and on about how he would plan a grand celebration in honor of Matty's return home later that week.

"You served in the American army for two years, saved countless lives, and were gravely injured in battle and they're not even going to give you a medal?! Not to mention they didn't even inform your poor family that you were hurt in the first place! Well if they won't honor your sacrifices, niño, then you'll be damned sure that I will immortalize you in Santa Cecilia history!"

Oscar and Felipe shared their numerous shoe ideas to Matty, not noticing the way the poor boy's eyes were glazing over as they droned on.

"See along the sole? Well instead of stitches-"

"-how about just a zipper all around?"

"You can mix and match your shoes-"

"-to your heart's content!"

Blinking numbly at that, Matty scratched the stubble of his chin. "Uh… zippers aren't very sturdy compared to stitches. Also wouldn't they scrape your feet every step? Oh! I think Martín asking me to come over! Excuse me!" Walking over to Martín and Héctor on his crutches, he leant down and hissed at Martín. "What happened to the signal?! You were supposed to save me from them ten minutes ago!"

"I can't take it anymore, Rivera!" Martín groaned out, his face straining red and sweat beading his forehead. "I've been dreaming of this moment for two years! I've waited long enough, fought through hell and painful agony to get here, just to see her! I have to act now! Seize my moment!"

Héctor winced at the words and fought down the sour, painful feeling that he always felt when he heard them. Dios, how he hated that catchphrase. With a shake of his head, he asked, "What are you talking about?"

"Her!" Martín exclaimed and thrust his hands out at the kitchen. "Mi diosa!"

That made Héctor blink in surprise and confusion. "Diosa?"

Turning towards the kitchen he saw Coco come out with two bowls of food to place them on the table, and with a deep glare he turned his attention back to the love-sick Martín as he gawked at her like she was a piece of meat. Are you kidding me?

Fishing a pick out of his jacket, Martín started to fluff up his pompadour to an even more ridiculous height as his eyes never left Coco. "Forgive me, Señor. Your son told me that was what you called your wife, but I cannot think of a better way of expressing how truly mesmerizing she is! Words fail me in the presence of her beauty!" With a final flick to his hair he looked up at Matty with a nervous grin. "How do I look?"

Matty raised an eyebrow. "Like an electrified rooster."

"Perfecto! Now give me your crutches."

"What?"

"Your crutches! How am I supposed to swagger in this wheelchair, give me your pinche crutches!"

"Alright alright! Dios…"

"Now wait a minute, chamacos!" Héctor called out, but he was entirely ignored as the two young men clumsily tried both to raise Martín out of the wheelchair and switch off with the crutches. Soon though Martín was standing on his one good leg with a triumphant smile and winked at Matty.

"Watch closely, Rivera. I'll show you how to get a girl." He said as he slowly hobbled towards the kitchen.

Matty rolled his eyes as he leaned heavily onto the wheelchair. "I've already got a girl, but whatever."

"Mateo!" Héctor hissed as he leaned into his son's face. "He does know that your sister is married, doesn't he?!"

"Huh? Si, he knows."

Héctor was flabbergasted. "And still you're going to let him make a fool out himself in front of the whole family?! I won't stand for-"

"Shh shh shhh…" Matty pressed a finger in front of his father's face, then pointed towards the action about to take place. "Just watch, old man."

And so, with bated breath and a clenched gut, Héctor watched as Martín slowly and nervously made his way over to Coco. Ay, this was not going to end well! Soon Martín was right in front of Coco, to the side of Coco, past Coco-

Wait…

"Disculpe señorita?" Martín asked softly and with such heartwarming sincerity. "You are Rosita Magallanes, si?"

Rosita looked up from where she was putting the last plates of food on the table, and her eyes widened as she saw Matty's handsome friend gazing at her with the softest smile no man had ever given her before. She had seen him when Matty had arrived and had even chatted about him to Coco and Mamá Imelda. 'That poor man, how awful to be hurt that badly!' But now, seeing him standing upright she could see how tall he would be if fate hadn't been so unkind to him. And how wide his shoulders were. And how long and fluffy his eyelashes were. Feeling her face warming up to an alarming degree, she nodded. "Si… And you're Martín… From Matty's letters."

Martín chuckled at that. "Oh! I'm glad you know about me. Because… He's told me a lot about you. I mean, because I wanted him to tell me-Ay, see, umm…" With a fumbling hand Mateo reached into his pocket and pulled out the worn foto and handed it to her. "You see, two years ago Riv- erm, Mateo- received a shipment of boots from his mother, and this was with it."

Rosita took the photo, and he eyes widened. It was the picture she had taken with Miguel and Mamá Imelda after they had crafted Matty a pair of combat boots, to serve as a reminder to him that his family loved him and were waiting for him to return home safe and sound. Only the portion of Miguel and Mamá Imelda had been cut off and discarded. Leaving only her. "Oh…"

"I kept stealing it from Mateo so much that he ended up just giving me this piece." Martín said with a shrug. "And I can honestly say that… this picture has gotten me through some very dark times these past two years. Or maybe not the picture but… just hoping for the opportunity to maybe get to see you, and-… I'm sorry for being so forward, I don't mean to scare you or upset you, but… I didn't want to have to go through all that hell, pain and loss without telling you that if it helped keep you safe even a little… Then it was worth it."

Rosita clutched the foto to her chest with a choked squeak and blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. The two of them gazed at each other for a few moments, both smiling softly. Coco and Imelda stared at the two, completely surprised but exchanging excited smiles at each other. Wanda couldn't follow the conversation, but she could read the mood and nodded and winked over at Matty. Héctor stared like he had been slapped upside the head at the unexpected turn of events, ripped right out of a romance movie that reeked of so much cheese he was sure Ernesto would have killed to have read lines like that. He turned to look at Matty, who just grinned from ear to ear and shrugged.

Getting over his nerves somewhat, Martín continued on. "I must admit, I find myself a stranger in this new town, miles away from my home. But I would love nothing more than to have you as my company during my stay, Señorita Magallanes."

No. NO! That had to be from a movie!

"O-of course!" Rosita squealed as she shoved Coco's plate and glass roughly to the side to clear the space, ignoring her friend's offended protest as her tea was spilled everywhere. "You can sit by me tonight!"

Dinner carried on throughout the night, several toasts flung out to celebrate Matty's return, to Matty's health, Martín's health, to Mexico, and many others. Everyone talked animatedly throughout, with Matty stopping to translate every now and again for Wanda. The poor girl was a little overwhelmed by the spice of some of the food, but thoroughly enjoyed the tamales and the flan that came for dessert. Julio kept shooting worried looks towards his sister and this strange man who was apparently sweeping her off her feet, despite having only one himself. A subject that little Miguel couldn't hold off asking about any longer, but luckily Martín was fine with talking about.

"Did getting your leg blowed up hurt?" Miguel asked, wincing as Imelda poked him with a fingernail.

"Ay, honestly niño I don't remember much from when it happened." Martín said. "When you go through that much pain your brain sometimes turns off and you forget about it. It was the recovery part that was the worst, that was when it hurt. Sometimes I can still feel my leg like it's still there. Sometimes it feels like it itches!"

"Really?!"

"Si! But the food they gave me while I recovered, ay, you'd think they were trying to kill me rather than heal me!" Turning towards Rosita with a syrupy smile, he gushed, "Of course, if I had any of your dear Rosita's cooking then I would have probably regrown a whole new leg by now."

Rosita giggled and blushed harder. "You flatterer. But by all means please have some more!"

By the time dinner was finished and little Elena was put to bed, all the adults were quietly conversing while Miguel and Victoria played in the courtyard. Julio tried get his father to notice that his daughter was clearly being entranced by this weird soldier, but Facundo seemed blissfully unaware and was content that Rosita had simply made a new friend. Matty had his arm slung around Wanda's shoulder as she snuggled up to his, and Oscar and Felipe went over the shoe ideas that Matty had personally voted in favor for with Imelda. Si, hermana, a shrug counts as a yes!

Somehow the conversation had come around to mention dogs and Matty slapped at his forehead. "Dios mio, I can't believe I forgot! Where's Dante? Dante! Come here boy!"

The talking fizzled to a halt as all the adults glanced at each other sadly while Matty whistled and clapped for the dog to come. Not being able to let this go on for much longer Héctor stood up and walked over to his son, placing his hand on his shoulder to stop his calling. "Mijo…"

Matty stopped at the tone of his father's voice, turning to him with his smile lightly faltering. "…What? What is it? Did something happen to Dante?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Héctor groaned, "Well, see… the thing is… Dante-"

"ARF ARF!"

"Dante!"

Within a spilt second Héctor was knocked off his feet as a blur of tanned gray shot out from under him. He fell with a startled yelp as a hairless dog leapt up onto Matty's legs and frantically licked all over his face, knocking his glasses to the side of his head. Matty laughed happily as he tried to push the dog off of him and Héctor sat up with a groan covered in dirt.

"Aw Dante! I'm so happy to see you! Did you miss me, boy?!" He turned the dog's wrinkled face towards his girl. "Wanda, look! It's my dog, Dante! I told you about him, remember?"

Wanda stared at the dog, gritting a tight smile as her eyebrow twitched. "Yes… I didn't know he'd be so… leathery."

Héctor blinked at the scene before him, feeling like his brain was fizzling and popping inside his head. No. That wasn't him. Dante was dead! He had been gone for as long as Matty was! It had to be another dog, just another pelón dog that just happened to be as extremely attached to Matty as Dante had been. But then the dog looked at him, with those same distant eyes that pointed in different directions, and with that same vacant grin. Even the tongue was ridiculously long like Dante's had been.

But no! It was impossible!

"M-Matty… That can't-"

"He looks great Papá! He looks just like when he was younger! What have you been feeding him?!" Matty exclaimed as he peered into the dog's eyes. "You even got his cataracts fixed! Gracias! This calls for a celebration! C'mon boy!"

As Matty hurried as fast as he could with two crutches and an overly-hyped dog yapping at his heels, Héctor sat in the dirt pondering what exactly was going on that night.

Bursting into his room, making a quick side glance at Leti's bed still made up to perfection, Matty pulled out his suitcase and flung it onto the bed. Popping it open and pulling back the various items of clothes and toiletries, his hard trumpet case came into view and he pulled it out. Retrieving the beautiful golden trumpet inside, he grinned at his distorted refection in the brass. "Time for some music!"

"No."

Flinching at the voice, Matty turned to see Imelda standing in the doorway, a solemn expression on her face. Puzzled, he placed the trumpet down and made his way over to her. "Mamá?... What's wrong?"

"Your father… We… don't listen to music, not anymore."

This made Matty slightly gasp. Turning to look back at his trumpet he saw Dante's head laying gently over the instrument, the dog whining sadly as he nuzzled the metal. Matty paused for a few moments as he tried to figure all of this out, but honestly it just didn't make sense. Papá didn't listen to music? How could that be possible? Music was one of the first things that came to mind when he thought about his father. Music was what built their family's foundation. Music wasn't just in Héctor Rivera, it was Héctor Rivera!

"I don't understand?"

With a deep sigh, Imelda walked further into the room. "Sit down mijo. There are some things that I need to tell you."

#somos familia #Hector Rivera #mama coco #mama imelda #pixar coco #coco pixar #coco fanfiction #Abuelita is finally here!

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