It almost felt like a dream, the two huge brown eyes looking up at Hector from the blue bundle in his arms as rose and lilac skirts twirled about the floor around him. He worried so much that he would lose his family so many times in his life. And yet in the past five years, it had only grown. His wife was resting in their marriage bed. His daughters were dancing and bouncing, healthy and happy as ever, chirping about their new baby brother. And Hector's newborn son was safe in his arms, chest rising and falling, taking in the world around him with a peaceful gaze.

"Papa, is my baby brother asleep?" asked Coco, briefly pausing her dancing. Her little sister followed suit.

"Not right now, mija," Hector replied softly.

"Can we turn our music on? Please?"

Hector smiled. "Yes, but keep it soft, Socorro. Mama is still resting."

Coco's bare feet padded across the cold floor. Adelita skipped along behind as Coco meticulously turned the radio on and set it to the softest possible volume.

Then the older girl's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

"Papa! It's you! On the radio!"

Hector held back a chuckle.

"How can it be me, mija? I'm right here."

Coco inched the volume up just a tiny bit so that Hector could hear from across the room.

"…noche estar aquí
Es mi pasión, qué alegría
Pues la música es mi lengua
Y el mundo es mi familia…"

Now it was Hector's turn to be surprised.

"Papa!" cried Adi, clapping her hands. "Papa singing music for the whole world!"

"That's…actually not me, niñas. That's someone else singing my song."

Coco frowned as she shut off the radio.

"You told me you wrote that song."

Hector motioned for the girls to come over. They did.

"Up until a few years ago-when you were about Adi's age, Coco-I had a very good friend. Almost like a brother. We played music together on our guitars, and we sang."

"Tio Nesto?"

"You remember him?"

"Yeah. I thought he was died!"

Hector wondered where Coco had gotten that idea, but he hadn't been too sure of Ernesto's whereabouts himself, up until now.

"He didn't die. We used to travel around Mexico, playing our songs for many, many people. A few days before we were set to return to Santa Cecilia, someone offered us a chance to perform in Ciudad de México. But that would have meant staying away for three months longer than we were meant to. And I told them no. Ernesto could stay if he wanted to, but I was going home to be with my wife. And you, Coco."

Coco's cheeky grin combated the tears that were threatening to well up in Hector's eyes. He hadn't thought about that conversation in a long time. It had been extremely upsetting, to even think of being away from his family for four whole months. Coco was only three...she could have forgotten him entirely.

"Ernesto was furious with me. He told me I was destroying the dream that he'd worked for his whole life. And he said, "I can't do this without your songs, Hector!" And I took out my songbook, I ripped out all the songs we'd performed together and I said, "Then take them! But my mind is made up. I'm going home, Ernesto." And that was it. I never saw him, never heard a word from him again."

Upon returning home, Hector had quickly become wrapped up in establishing roots in Santa Cecilia, helping Imelda set up her shoemaking business, and the birth of their second child, not to mention all the drama that came when his father-in-law kicked the twins out and he woke up one morning to find hungry teenage boys on his doorstep. And somehow, five years had gone by. Ernesto had never visited or even written a letter. And yet, through his songs, Hector was still carrying him.

"Come to think of it," said Hector. "Ernesto wasn't a very good friend."

"I think I like Tio Oscar better," said Adi. "He lets me play his trumpet."

Hector smiled. Then he used his free arm to scoop Adilita into his lap and hold Coco as close as possible. He kissed his childrens' dark hair and listened to their soft giggles and felt their little arms holding onto him.

This was what Ernesto had wanted to steal from Hector.

This is what Ernesto had stolen from himself.

How had Hector been so dense as to let Ernesto and his attention-seeking ways rob him of a single day with his family?

"It's not fair that Tio Ernesto gets to play your songs on the radio and you don't," said Coco. "Please promise me you won't name the baby after him?"

"Of course we will not." Hector smiled. "In fact, he already has a name. His name is Hector Cecilio Oscar Solis Rivera. But for now, we can call him Tito."

Later that afternoon, after the two younger children were asleep in the nursery and Coco had run into town to do errands with Oscar and Filipe, Hector crawled into bed and wrapped his arms around Imelda. He buried his face in her neck and sighed. She was real. The babies were real. He wasn't dreaming.

"Did you put Adi down for her nap?"

Hector smiled as he pulled back, just a little.

"How long have you been awake?"

"Just a minute," Imelda whispered as she curled up into a ball, allowing Hector to wrap himself around her in a protective embrace.

And he began to sing.

"Mi amor y mi señora
Buenas tardes, buenas noches
Buenas tardes, buenas noches
Mi amor y mi señora

To be here with you tonight
Brings me joy, que alegria
For this music is my language
And it's all for mi familia"

"You changed it," Imelda whispered as Hector planted a gentle kiss on her cheek.

"No, mi amor. This is what I should have been singing all along ."