Summary: Revelations continue to be revealed, whether everyone is ready for them or not.
"Imelda… Imelda, honey, wake up!"
A hissed whisper. Interrupting a beautiful dream. Of singing and dancing on a cloud of petals. She waved a hand at the voice, as though it were a bothersome fly.
"Imelda, mi amor, please."
Slowly, groggily, she blinked her eyes open. Héctor was pressed against the wall, still dressed in her old nightdress, his eyes wide with panic. He cast a sideways look at the door and for a moment she almost saw it open, her father or brothers standing there, glaring at the two of them. But it was just a moment. A blink and the door reinstated itself. Closed. Firmly closed. No gap or glaring family member to be seen.
"Héctor, wha-"
"Shh!" He leapt over into the bed, putting a hand over her mouth and glancing fearfully at the door. "Imelda, you have to get me out of here! If your father knew!"
She pushed his hand off, shoved his shoulder so he fell onto his back with a whoosh of lost breath. He looked ridiculous in the long, white nightdress with embroidered flowers at the hem. Ridiculous, and oddly endearing. Had she picked that one on purpose? She really couldn't remember.
"Héctor, Papa won't care. We are getting married in less than a month! He will not care that we shared a bed for one night!" She crossed her arms, turned her face away. "Besides, it's not as though it is the first time we lay together. Just the first time we actually slept."
Héctor flushed. Didn't look away. Turned her face back to him and gently ran the ball of his thumb over her cheek.
"I…wasn't thinking. Apologies, Imelda."
Honesty fought a hard fight against deceit. Words rose in her throat and she swallowed hard to keep them down. She lifted her hand, covered his. Saw that same dopey smile rise on his face, saw the gold tooth wink and the dimple dip in his left cheek.
How could she risk this? Risk the loss of this wonderful man. The loss of all the joy and song and heart he had brought her. But she couldn't lie to him either. He deserved to know the truth.
"Héctor…"
He saw something in her face. His smile faded, pulled in a little at the corners. He sat up. Cradled her face in his hands again. Delicately, with infinite love and caring. One thumb brushing beneath her eye to catch a tear she didn't realise had fallen.
"Imelda, what is it?"
"Héctor…" A deep breath. Steeling herself. Straightening her spine. Finding that iron core of strength and holding it tight. "We're going to have a baby."
She wasn't sure what sort of reaction she was expecting. Horror? Disgust? Outrage? The worst of the worst flashed through her head again and again.
What she had not expected was a beat of silence. The corners of his mouth pulling up again. Light dancing in his eyes. He let out a ringing, whooping cry of excitement. Pulled her face to his. Kissed her with heat and passion. Then leapt from the bed, scrambled out of the window, started running down the street. Still whooping and laughing. Leaving her sitting there, breathless and confused.
Héctor couldn't contain his excitement. It flowed through his veins like fire, twanged on his muscles like over-tuned strings. Forced him to move. To run. His voice shrilled and rolled with excited calls as he sprinted through the streets. Towards his old haunts.
"Ernesto! Ernesto, Ernesto!" He effortlessly climbed the wall around Ernesto's central courtyard and bolted straight to his best friend's window. "Open up!" He knocked rapidly. Unable to stop his knuckles tapping out a driving rhythm. A counterpoint to the frantic hammering of his own heart.
There was a groan, then the window creaked open. Ernesto leaned out, bleary eyed, and blinked up at him. Recognition flashed in his eyes and his mouth dropped open in a shocked gape.
"Héctor? What in god's name are you wearing?"
A quick glance down. Confirmation that he was, indeed, still wearing Imelda's old, worn out nightdress. The flowers along the hem were a nice touch. Wasn't sure how he'd missed them before. He shrugged the feeling off.
"Good god, man, get in here before someone sees."
Ernesto reached out of the window, yanked Héctor through by the shoulders. Without a word, he started hunting through his clothes while Héctor crouched on the floor and started to babble.
"Ernesto, it's so exciting, Imelda just told me, I can't even believe it."
"Put some real clothes on."
An enormous shirt and slim legged pants thrust into his arms. Not stopping to catch his breath, Héctor continued to enthuse as he pulled off Imelda's nightdress and on Ernesto's clothes.
"I'm going to be a dad, Ernesto! Imelda and I are going to have a baby!"
Ernesto froze. Turned. The red mark of Imelda's hand stood out starkly against his pale skin. "You're what?"
"I'm going to be a dad!" Shirt still unbuttoned, Héctor flung his arms around Ernesto and started to cry.
"Hey, amigo, why are you crying? There are ways around these things! This is 1918, there are options! You don't have to be sad."
Ernesto patted Héctor's back. Soothing and reassuring.
"No, I'm not sad." Héctor lifted his tear-stained face. Wiped his running nose. "Can you imagine, Ernesto? Me? A dad?"
"I thought you said you never wanted kids." Ernesto released him. Turned his back again. "That you didn't want to be like your father. After he abandoned you, how he left you on the streets."
That took the wind out of Héctor's sails. It was like being punched in the gut. He sagged back against the wall, suddenly aware of a headache that pulsed at his temples.
"I…I know I said that, okay? But that was a long time ago. That was before…"
"Before what? That woman?" Ernesto pulled open another cupboard, fished out a flask and took a swig. Héctor's gut twisted. His fingers fumbled as he tried to do up the buttons of the shirt.
"Why are you saying that? You're the one who made me approach her. I thought you'd be happy for me."
"I never thought it would go this far. I thought she would be a fling for you, to bring your confidence up." He took another swallow. Coughed. Wiped his mouth. Turned back with a wide, winning smile. "I'm sorry, amigo, it just took me a moment! First the wedding, now a baby! This is all so exciting for you, Héctor!"
Relieved, Héctor embraced Ernesto. His best friend. The man who had first placed a guitar in his hands, watched as he played his first few tentative notes and had fallen hard for the sound. Who had encouraged him to write music and play more, to teach the little tricks and flourishes he developed. And in that moment he knew it was all going to be okay.
