Rosita is the next to take Imelda by suprise. And it's the same process as what had happened when Julio had joined her. The call with the same proffesional voice on the other line, the feeling of worry and grief that works through her when she hangs up the phone and tries to keep herself from shaking, and the difficulty of trying to hold back tears as she thinks of memories of spending time with Rosita and Coco alone or with other family members.
But this time is different, too. For one thing, Julio goes with her to the building this time instead of her going alone. The weather is different: instead of the warm, sunny weather that surrounded that day, this time there are thick clouds in the sky and huge water droplets pelting down on her and Julio as they go. And another thing that Imelda finds comforting: the whole way there, there are no memories or images of Héctor whatsoever that work their way into her mind.
Imelda leads the way because she knows where it is, holding her hands over her head and cursing herself for not bringing an umbrella. And when they open the office door-- the same door and same room that Julio was in when Imelda first saw him here, another similarity that bothers Imelda for a reason she can't place-- there she is, chatting animatedly with the same two officers Imelda remembers seeing from the Department of New Arrivals when she had first gotten here.
Rosita's still-black hair is in braids piled on top of her head, big pink flowers woven into the style to keep it in place. It reminds Imelda of the dream she had of Coco and Julio's wedding because Coco had worn her hair the same way. Rosita's dress is a bright pink with white flowers printed all over the fabric and a blue-striped sash is slung over her right shoulder to the front of her dress. She wears a pair of brown sandals that Coco had made for her the day before one of her birthdays. Two gold hoop earrings dangle from what used to be her ears, one on each side.
When she notices Imelda and Julio and stops her conversation with the men, who exit the office upon catching sight of Imelda's pointed stare, she turns and stares blankly at first, a blankness in her eyes for a second. Then she breaks into a huge grin and charges toward them, arms outstreched, wrapping both Imelda and Julio into a giant embrace, squeezing them tight to her chest and closer to each other.
Imelda would usually try to pull away, because back when they were both alive her grip was stronger and nine times out of ten when they hugged Imelda was sure she heard her spine cracking. It also reminded her of the times she would see Héctor do the same to her or Coco or Ernesto (who always succeeded in breaking away from his grip, having always been stronger than Héctor especially in the physical sense.)
But this time, Imelda likes Rosita's intense hold around her back, because she forgot how much she'd missed Rosita's hugs, how much love she felt when she recieved one despite the fact that her back always ached for minutes after Rosita let go. Imelda found herself wrapping her arms around both Rosita and Julio, inhaling the scent of something sweet and strong that she can't describe.
There is a lot of chatter on the walk home, the rain softened into just a light drizzle. Imelda just listens quietly as Rosita and Julio talk about the business and Coco and Victoria and Elena, filled with happiness that she gets to witness their conversations again.
But she also can't shake feeling slightly worried about who would be next and about what would happen if a certain person ever tries to reconnect with her or another family member.
Imelda's most vivid fear comes true two days after Rosita's death.
There is yet another reason Rosita is different from Julio: Héctor still hadn't seen Julio yet, but he sees Rosita right away. He just had to pick that day to be hanging out with his friends at one of the popular resturants near their house, instead of picking another when Rosita is back home and Imelda can deal with Héctor how she likes to deal with him.
Imelda didn't know that feeling so protective of someone is possible, that despising Héctor even more than she already does is possible. But right there, staring at him, watching his eyes rove over and connect with Rosita's in a way that they never have with her, she discovers that there is, indeed, a way to despise him even more.
Her and Rosita are out buying more decorations to put in Rosita's new bedroom to make her adjust to the situation better. Both women have armfuls of flowers, vases, picture frames, and a new dark pink bedset that Rosita had insisted they buy to replace the bland white comforter that had originally come with the bed. The sun is setting, and as it does, it casts a glare on the glossy black windows of now-closed shops and stores, making Imelda wish she had her hands free to shield her eyes from the festive lights of the city and the usually beautiful but now slightly annoying sunlight.
But unfortunately, while Imelda had stayed out later than she was planning, she hadn't found enough things to do where the sky would be completely black when her and Rosita walk home.
Which means it is still light out while they're walking.
Which means Héctor can still see them.
Which makes Imelda wish Héctor still had skin so she could give him quick, deep, and painful scratches in every part of his body.
She hears him before she sees him, whch is not unusual. She whips her head around and there he is, sitting under the blue awning of one of his favorite stores, three men surrounding him while he plays the same cobbled guitar she'd seen him with the first time she'd died and laughing hysterically at something Imelda can't hear from this far away.
She stops walking and crosses her arms, wincing at how loud the items in the bags are when they knock against her bones. And as he always seems to do, whether it's a sixth sense for him or having slightly large ears had payed off more than she realizes, he turns at the sound and stares back at her, still strumming the pitiful guitar while casting a shy smile her way.
Rosita smacks into her a minute later, sending them both to the ground and breaking half the vases in the bags, the pieces scattered around their bodies as they groan and sit up. Imelda rubs her forehead where the ground had hit her and continues to glower in Héctor's direction as she helps Rosita salvage some of the broken glass, which unfortunately doesn't go unnoticed by Rosita.
"What are you staring at, Mamá Imelda?" she asks as she scoops up more shards and places them into her one of her bags.
Imelda is still glaring. "Nothing," she says, but she doesn't put much feeling into her voice and her tone is airy, blank. Héctor sends her a brokenhearted expression and turns away from her, turning his attention back to his friends.
Rosita gathers the last of the pieces and follows Imelda's gaze as they both stand up and hook their bags around their arms again. Imelda sees her hand on her heart and her adoring look out of the corner of her eye.
"That song is beautiful," she says, her voice wistful as she stares at Héctor.
Imelda points at Rosita with a stern look. "You know the rules, Rosita."
Rosita rolls her eyes and continues to listen. "I bet he's a very talented musician, don't you think?" Her eyes are riveted on Héctor's fingers strumming the guitar. When Héctor turns around again, he catches Rosita's eye and waves.
Imelda huffs and pulls Rosita away, starting to walk ahead and quickening her pace. "He is not talented," Imelda hisses, the feeling of a stab in her chest becoming more pronnounced when her lie leaves her lips.
They walk in a thick silence until they reach the intersection that leads to their hacienda.
"Who is he?" Rosita asks as Imelda charges toward the door with too much focus on the ground.
"Hm?"
"That man we saw. The one you were staring at. Who is he?"
Imelda sucks her teeth as she throws open the door, switches on the light, and grabs her bags. "He's no one, Rosita." Her voice carries throughout the halls. She lowers her voice to normal level, trying not to wake Julio. "He's just someone I used to know."
"I think he likes you, Mamá Imelda," Rosita comments as she follows Imelda up the stairs.
If he liked me he wouldn't have been so selfish. Imelda has to grit her teeth to keep the shouts inside her head from exploding out of her mouth. "Well, I don't think he does." She throws open the door to Rosita's room and throws the bag with the broken glass in the garbage. She then walks over to the window and opens it, letting the breeze blow in as she collects herself.
A few minutes pass before Imelda sighs and turns back to Rosita, crossing her arms and making her expression as blank as possible. "Stay away from him, alright?"
Rosita has a suspicious expression on her face. "Why?"
"Because he's..." Imelda gropes for the right words.
Rosita keeps staring at her as she rearranges the only three vases that survived on her right nightstand, and it unnerves Imelda because for a second it's like Rosita can see inside of her thoughts.
She must be able to, though, because as she's straightening the slightly drooping flowers and grabbing a picture frame from her decoration pile next to her while still giving Imelda a raised eyebrow it's like something clicks and becomes clear. She widens her eyes and gasps, dropping the frame. A look of utter horror is on her face.
"Mamá Imelda! Do you mean that you were staring at him?"
Imelda nods sullenly, groaning and rolling her eyes as she throws up her hands. "He won't leave me alone. It's annoying."
Rosita just stares, silent, as Imelda squeezes her hands to fists and drops to the ground, letting loose another angry growl and glaring up at the ceiling. She hears footsteps and suddenly Rosita is sitting beside her, decorations forgotten, with one arm around Imelda as they stare at each other.
"He's your husband."
Imelda closes her eyes. "Not anymore."
When she opens them, Rosita's face is stone, but there is pity in her eyes. "Fine. I'll stay away from him, if that's what you want."
Imelda smiles. "Gracias, Rosita."
Rosita responds by wrapping both arms around Imelda in a much gentler than usual embrace, and Imelda sits still for a second before returning the hug, closing her eyes again as they sit there.
After a few more seconds, Rosita lets go and stands up, walking away and grabbing one of the bags that Imelda had left by her bedroom door. She smiles warmly as Imelda stands up and raises an eyebrow at her.
"What are you doing, Rosita?"
Rosita's smile grows as she hands the bag to Imelda and puts an arm around her. "We still have some decorating to do, and I need your help. Maybe it'll take your mind off of him."
Imelda strongly doubts that Rosita is right, but gives in, sighing, taking the bag, and walking over to the bed.
They finish decorating, and Rosita bids Imelda goodnight as Imelda stalks out, closing Rosita's door behind her and practically running to her own room as though something were chasing her. She dives onto her bed and squeezes her pillow tight to her chest as she closes her eyes, her mind reeling in a matter of seconds and leaving Imelda disgusted at the reason behind her sadness as the memories wash over her like they hadn't in a long time.