Summary: Saying goodbye is never easy. Even if it's only for a while.
Imelda washed her hands. Washed and washed. Rinsed off soap and reapplied it. Didn't even feel the dryness of her skin, the cracks beginning to form between her fingers. Her eyes stared forward blankly. All of her attention was on the other room. On the floating gentle notes and soft, tender singing of her husband. The giggles of her daughter. Coco was singing along as best she could, her voice high and sweet and pure. Hearing them sing about separation and remembering made her heart hurt in a strange way.
The last note faded. Héctor's voice murmuring and Coco's mumbling responses. He soothed and hushed. She eventually stopped talking, soothed to sleep by her papa. There were soft footsteps and the click of her bedroom door shutting.
The musical thud as he put the guitar in its case. The sharp clicks as the clasps re-engaged. The gentle touch of his hand on her shoulder.
"Mi amor?"
She rinsed the last of the soap from her hands. Dried them on her apron. Turned away from him and walked towards the window. He didn't follow.
"Ernesto will be waiting for you. You should hurry."
A moment of silence. "He can wait." Another pause. "Can you look at me? Please, Imelda?"
She bit her lip. Crossed her arms. Straightened her spine and turned towards him. Wide brown eyes, lit from within with love. That hopeful smile with its gold tooth and dimpled cheek. Hair and goatee both messed by Coco's adoring touch. Imelda rolled her eyes. Walked towards him and began to straighten him out.
"Are you angry with me?" His voice soft. Unhappy. He kept trying to meet her eyes and she kept pointedly avoiding them.
"No," she said with a sigh. "I'm not happy. But I'm not angry either." She fixed his goatee, then combed her fingers through his hair to untangle it. Relished the feeling of the strands on her skin. "Is this really what you want, Héctor? To leave us behind? To play to total strangers?" His eyes widened fractionally. Something flashed in those brown depths. Something unfamiliar and so out of place it took her a second to recognise it.
He caught her hand. Kissed the palm, then each wrinkled fingertip. Then gave the same treatment to the other hand. His thumbs gently caressing her skin. She recognised him stalling for time. Decided not to push him.
When he finally looked back up at her the flash of uncertainty she thought she had seen was gone. There was determination there now. Steely and powerful.
"Yes, Imelda. I want to give it my best try. Ernesto is right; our music is worth being heard by the world."
A knife in her heart. She pulled her hands free. Grasped her elbows. Felt the dry skin between her fingers crack and winced.
"Don't forget us," she said. "Don't leave us for some other family or some other dream."
She saw Héctor's heart in his eyes. Saw the love and hope there. He reached out and she went into his arms willingly. Closed her eyes as he held her tight. Breathed in the smell of him. Tried to commit it to memory. He kissed the top of her head.
"I will never forget you, mi amor. You or Coco."
He kissed her lips, gently. Moved to her ear, whispered something that she stored in her heart. Then he left. His guitar case in one hand. A small suitcase in the other. Walking side by side with Ernesto. Turning back to look over his shoulder at her standing in the doorway until Ernesto placed a hand on his shoulder. Limited his twisting. Faced him forward.
She closed the door. Leaned against it. Felt tears threaten and blinked them away angrily. Remembered his last words to her.
"It isn't forever, Imelda. I promise."