People had questioned Imelda's choices all her life.
Her choice to wear a bright red dress to her quiences (which she made herself, because her mother was dead). Her choice to let her little brothers dance the first dance with her (because she and her father weren't speaking). Her choice to work as a waitress to support her family (instead of just getting married and leaving the twins to fend for themselves). Her choice to get into political arguments with the customers, male and female alike, whenever the classist and sexist arguments came about.
"Someone tell the skinny mesera that if she shuts her boca, no flies will come in."
If her manager was around, he would shake his head and mutter, "Believe me, I've tried."
But this, her decision to allow a man eight months her junior visiting from Santa Cecilia to court her, was perhaps the most questioned of all.
"He's a seventeen-year-old mariachi, he's never going to marry her!"
"I always knew that poor, stupid chica would ruin her life."
"Can you blame her for falling for it, though? I can't imagine that any other man had ever wanted her, and then he struts into town seranading her and calling her pet names?"
But she didn't fall for him because of the pet names (which she had rolled her eyes at), or because he'd dedicated his song of the night to "that beautiful seniorita in the purple dress" (which hadn't hurt), or even because he'd asked twelve-year-old Oscar and Filipe's permission to ask her out on a date without a hint of insincerity, and ended the interaction with a reminder that a woman should be allowed to choose who courts her no matter what, but that he was grateful for their approval.
Imelda ended their third date, which took place in the plaza on a warm afternoon, by getting into an argument with Ernesto over the rumored women's rights protests in America and Europe. Something that she knew full well would end a relationship with the wrong man. Most men.
"Look, I'm not saying that all women are completely stupid," Ernesto has calmly explained. "There's just a limit to how much power they should have. Besides, a woman will always vote the way her husband votes anyway, so in reality, this is just a ploy to get more votes for married men."
Before Imelda was two sentences into her planned tirade of criticisms, Ernesto turned to Hector and smiled.
"Amigo, would you tell your girlthat if she shuts her boca no flies will come in?"
"No," Hector scoffed. "But I do hope she says that to you."
A few minutes later, Ernesto stormed away from the plaza in a huff.
"Lo siento, cariña. Ernesto can be a bit…unrefined."
Imelda sat down beside Hector on the edge of the stage and folded her hands in her lap.
"If that's the way you feel, then why do you stay with him?" she asked.
"Sometimes, I wonder that myself," Hector chuckled. "But it's been just him and me for a long time. A long time ago, our fathers had a leather-making business together. So Ernesto and I sort of grew up together, like primos. Then five years ago, Papa and Tio Fernando were killed in a fire that destroyed their business. My Mama died of grief soon after, and his Mama left to join the convent. And Ernesto just sort of…took me in. He was able to get a better job than I was at the time, so he kept a roof over our heads. I kept him from making any particularly stupid decisions. I taught him how to play guitar, we started writing songs together." Imelda shot him a doubtful look. "Well, I write the songs, he helps me work out the tune by playing it as I write. This one time he tried to write a love ballad, and it devolved into something about wrestling in less than a minute. But other than my family, he's the one person who's always believed in me. He genuinely believes, with every last nuance of his soul, that I am a brilliant musician and songwriter. That my music has the ability to touch the hearts of the world."
And Imelda found herself saying, "There might be other people who could see how brilliant you are, too."
And she found herself sliding her hand into his hand.
"People who are a bit less…unrefined."
And she found herself leaning in towards him, using her other hand to guide his lips to hers, and holding them there for much longer than anyone ever should in a public place.
There were plenty of people around to judge her for that, too. But she didn't care.
Because for the first time in her life, she had found someone who never would.