Maria looked up from the laundry she was stringing on the clothes line and smiled at Maribel and her sister, Rose. They were standing in the knee-high flowers at the other end of the yard, doing who knows what. A breeze began to blow, making the sheets Maria had hung out to dry billow like a ship sail. It was a perfect summer afternoon unscathed by anything. But Maria knew this perfect day couldn't last; for tomorrow it would be another year in counting since her brother was taken away from her.

Maria knew that that was an aspect of her and Tony's relationship they could never overlook, no matter how loving a marriage they shared. Because death isn't something you can just push under rug and forget about. Murder isn't something you can just forget about. It was a hard fact for Maria to accept; that the man she had formed a wonderful life with was capable of something so horrid.

"Mommy!"

Maria looked up and saw Rose sprinting across the yard. Rose and Maribel were like day and night; whereas Maribel found enjoyment in stowing insects away in glass jars and drawing them to a tee (or at least attempting to), Rose found it far more interesting to draw things how she saw them, and push accuracy to the wayside. And for all the times Maribel had asked, "Why?", Rose probably asked, "Why not?" a dozen more.

"Mommy, look! These flowers have teeny tiny feathers on them! And when you shake them the feathers go everywhere!" Rose spun around in a circle and shook the handful of dandelions she had. Their wispy seeds drifted up towards the air, then fell to the ground without a sound. As Maria reached into the laundry basket by her feet, she smiled at Rose.

"Rose your father is not going to like having all those weeds in the yard."

"But Mommy, weeds are ugly; these are pretty, see?" Rose held a yellow dandelion up to Maria. Maria took the flower from her daughter and smiled once again. To a child, especially a child like Rose, everything was beautiful.

"Well, I cannot argue with that. How about you do Mommy and Daddy a favor and pick all of the pretty yellow flowers out of the yard?"

Rose's eyes widened. "Of course!"

Rose skipped back to the other end of the yard and continued digging around in the flowerbed. Maria couldn't imagine Rose and her sister were doing much harm. The flowerbed had been there since Maria and Tony moved into the house, as were the rest of the flowers around the yard and the vast field of wildflowers on the other side of the fence. Neither Maria nor Tony knew what kinds of flowers they were, but they hated to see them go; even if the postman called the flowering vines on the mailbox "nuisances and weeds".

As Maria returned to hanging up laundry, the sound of an approaching car caused her to look to the road. Traffic was such a rare thing to see on the lonely country road that extended past the house. Often times the cars were occupied by people from the city, seeking a temporary escape from the crowded streets that they called home. Sometimes they'd ask for directions and comment on how pretty it was out in the country. And if Maria happened to be the one guiding the stray car back onto the road, she would smile at the people's dazzled faces, surprised at how pure things were, because at one time, she and Tony thought the same things.

When the car grew closer, it was now visible the car was a taxi cab. Maribel and Rose also caught a glimpse the strangely marked car, and abandoned their adventure in the garden to meet their mother at the other end of the yard.

"Mommy, why does that car have letters on it?" Rose asked as she tugged on Maria's dress, leaving a trail of dirty hand prints behind. Maribel rolled her eyes; at times she found Rose's obvious questions annoying.

"It's a taxi Rose; people use them in the city to get places," Maribel replied.

"So they don't have cars in the city? Everyone uses taxi things?"

Maribel continued to debrief her sister on modes of urban transportation as Maria approached the fence. The taxi had stopped in the driveway, leading Maria to believe it was lost on it's way out of the city. But when the door opened up, Maria's heart stopped. Standing in front of her was the friend she thought she'd never see again and clutching her hand was a little boy who was the spitting image of a boy Maria once knew very well.

Anita and Maria were seated on the porch as they watched Maribel, Rose, and Carlos, Anita's son, playing under a tree in the backyard.

"Well they seem to of hit it off quickly," Maria said. Although she didn't think they'd have trouble getting along; they were cousins after all.

"Yes. Carlos…he has trouble making friends; he is so quiet and shy." Anita smiled as she watched Carlos reluctantly accept a dandelion crown from Rose. "But now I am glad I brought him along."

"I am glad you did too; so are the girls. It is hard on them living away from other children. But they have each other; they fight…a lot, but they still enjoy each others' company."

Anita let out a little laugh at her friend's remark. "Maria, they would not be sisters if they did not fight."

"Yes, I guess that is true. Oh Anita, it seems like it has been longer since six years. That letter you sent me finally had to be thrown out; after reading it over so many times, the paper started to tear."

"Do not feel bad; the letter you sent us did not last very long either."

A few months after Maribel was born, Maria had realized that it soon would be a year since she met Tony. A year since her brother died. A year since she'd spoken to her family. At the time, she had seen that as an opportunity to patch things up with her family. Maria recalled how she sat at the kitchen table for hours trying to piece together the perfect letter. And after doing so, she enclosed a picture of Maribel with the letter; for she knew her parents deserved to know everything that she had been up to. But when weeks passed and their was still no answer, Maria had for a time given up hope on ever hearing back from her family.

But then one day, a package came in the mail. It was a box full of pictures (many which now had a home in the pages of Maria's photo album) and a letter from Anita. And as Maria thought about it, she did recall Anita saying things about how much her life had changed and how someday Anita would love to see Maria again.

"Your parents wish you well too, Maria."

Maria, startled by her friend's remark, remained silent. Anita rested her hand on top of Maria's and faintly smiled. "They still love you; they never stopped loving you, in fact."

Maria didn't answer and instead let Anita continue.

"You know, after Carlos was born, your father thought it was best that we moved in with them. He said it was not safe for me to live on my own with a baby without…" Anita trailed off as she looked to the tree. Carlos waved to her, and flashed an all too familiar smile. "And if I have learned one thing in these few years, it is that nothing can break family ties."

"I know that too." Maria turned to her friend. "And maybe, someday, I can show my parents that I know that."

Anita smiled contently; that was easier to say than she thought it would of been.

"Those girls look so much like you Maria," Anita said to move away from the current subject. Maria reached a hand out to Anita.

"Carlos looks a lot like his father," was all Maria said. Anita gripped her friend's hand tightly, as if holding hands with Maria connected her to the boy she loved.

"I know."

"So, how long were you planning on staying?" Maria asked, bringing her friend out of her thoughts. Anita blinked quickly, as if she was chasing away any tears that may try to reside in her eyes.

"Oh, not long. I do not want to ruin yours and Tony's summer; just a few days most likely."

"Now Anita, you know you will not ruin our summer. You can stay as long as you want."

"Gracias Maria. I do not think you realize how happy I am to see you again."