Everyone seems to approve of the idea of Héctor getting to enjoy nice, soft, and good things. Especially after all the poor guy has been through. So even if his relationship with Imelda is still a work-in-progress, let's continue the trend of having things improve for him.

Years of keeping secrets from his family caused Miguel to react without thinking when he heard a knock on his bedroom door, shoving the books beneath his pillow and pushing Dante under his bed out of sight. He could barely spare a moment to whisper to the dog to stay and desperately pray that Dante would remain hidden by the dangling blanket. By the time the door opened, the boy was standing in the middle of the room, clutching his wrist and grinning sheepishly.

"Nothing," he yelped defensively.

Giving him an unconvinced look, his mamá stepped into the room. She seemed to be carrying a thin book with a colorful cover and a flat square object. She hesitated a moment before sitting on the edge of his bed, Dante thankfully not creeping out from underneath. The springs creaked loudly and she sighed in relief at being off her feet. She'd been slowing down and sitting a lot more lately, too tired out by her pregnancy. His baby brother or sister should arrive soon.

"Hey there, Miguel," said Mamá, patting a spot next to her. "Can we talk a little?"

Nodding awkwardly, he sat down beside her. He felt Dante sniff at his ankle, but did his best not to react to the cold nose poking him. Miguel had no idea where this conversation might go. He'd been involved in a lot of intense discussions with his family lately. Between his cousins wanting help finding instruments, Abuelita apologizing for breaking his guitar, and the entire situation with the music ban lifting, Miguel never could seem to get a break. His mamá could have almost anything in mind.

"You remember the stories about how I met your papá and how your abuelita told us that if we wanted to be together, I would have to follow the same rules as the rest of this family," she said slowly.

"Of course," said Miguel. "You and Papá told me lots of times."

Smiling as her hand rested lightly on her stomach, she said, "So you remember that I didn't grow up with the music ban. I spent time in the plaza as a child. I wasn't particularly musical, but I would hum and sing along with songs that I knew. It was fun. I didn't have any particular interest or talent for music, but I liked hearing it. Giving it up wasn't easy. I used to be scolded about humming absent-mindly in the workshop."

She reached up and rubbed her hand through his hair. Miguel smiled slightly at her.

"But you're not like that. You love music. I've seen it in your eyes when you sing and play. I could tell that much even when you tried to follow the rules. Music isn't something you could ignore, míjo."

"And now I don't," said Miguel. "I don't have to ignore it or hide it anymore."

Though he was at least trying to hide the fact he snuck Dante into his room. He could hear him panting quietly beneath the bed. But it wasn't very loud, so his mamá would probably miss the sound.

Holding out the thin book and flat square object, she said, "And I want to show you that we want to support and help you. So after asking around, I found this for you."

Miguel looked down at them. A thin book and a CD in a case, both of which were titled "Guitars for Beginners," now rested in his hands. Even a month ago, Miguel wouldn't be allowed to own anything similar to these. Not without keeping them secret. But it still made him shake his head slightly.

"Gracias, Mamá," he said carefully. "It was nice of you to get these for me. But I'm not a beginner. You've heard me play."

"Open it."

Following her instructions, Miguel opened the book at random. And then he froze. The pages were covered in lines that ran across them. And rather than normal words or sentences, strange symbols and dots lay scattered at random. Some of the black dots appeared to have sticks attached or even holding up flags or banners. That was the best description that Miguel could think of for what he was looking at. There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to the patterns or positions.

"This… This is music?" he whispered.

"I know you can play," said Mamá. "But this will teach you to read it as well. The beginning of the book explains what everything means and the CD matches the music written in the second half. That way you can hear what the section you are reading sounds like."

A bright grin slowly formed on Miguel's face as it sank in. He couldn't believe it. After years of seeking out ways to learn music, he finally had an easier way to learn new songs. Mimicking videos and learning to play by ear took time and effort to perfect. Being able to find new songs the same way that he found stories in a book would be so much easier.

And if he learned to read music, then someday he might be able to write songs. Like Papá Héctor.

"Gracias, Mamá," he repeated, this time with far more enthusiasm. "This… This is wonderful."

"Whether you chose to make music or shoes, your family will help you be the best that you can be," said Mamá. "We want to support you, Miguel."

As Luisa stepped out of their son's room, Enrique asked from where he was waiting, "Did he like it?"

"He seemed to," she said. "He's still looking through it."

"Then it was worth the effort to find."

Her hand slipping into his, Enrique walked slowly to match her pace. Pregnancy had slowed her down a bit. The arrival of their newest child drew closer every day. They'd already brought back down the crib and other assorted necessities from where the family stored them after Benny and Manny outgrew them. Everyone was looking forward to what was coming. Luisa seemed to grow more beautiful and happy even as she was forced to work a lighter load, his wife eagerly anticipating the upcoming birth and the growth of their family.

"Yes," she said with a smile. "It was worth it."

The book and CD didn't make up for when Miguel's guitar, the one that he clearly made himself, was smashed in front of his son. Enrique wished that he could have stopped his mamá before that happened. But even if they couldn't reverse what happened, it would not happen again. And these small gifts would help assure their son that things had truly changed. He no longer had to keep secrets from his family out of fear.

"Though I do wonder how long he thinks he can hide that dog," Luisa continued. Giggling slightly, she said, "It was hard not to laugh when he started licking my ankle. I can't believe Miguel didn't notice, but he was too busy looking over the sheet music."

"I know we should say something. He really needs to stop keeping secrets," said Enrique, trying to look serious even as a grin tried to overtake his face.

"He'll tell us when he's ready. Or his dog gets loose," she said. "And you really can't complain too much about him wanting to hide his pet. Or did you forget about the time you tried to keep your mamá from noticing the entire litter of puppies you snuck into your room? And then three of them started chewing on the half-finished shoes in the workshop? Because I'm sure that if you've forgotten about that, she'll be happy to tell the story again."

Enrique could feel his face heating up even as he laughed at the memory.

"I was eight. And other than going after the shoes, they were great dogs. If she gave me more time, I'm sure I could have trained them. Or she could have at least let me keep one instead of giving them all away."

"Maybe she would have if they didn't shred one of her shoes. Her favorites that were in her bedroom at the time. And if they didn't chase the chicken. And if they didn't trip Tía Victoria. And—"

"Okay, okay," Enrique interrupted, still laughing. "I admit it. All six of them were absolute troublemakers. At least Miguel's dog isn't as bad."

"So we agree. He can keep the dog."

"Yes."

"And we're not saying a word to him about us knowing that he has a dog, right?"

"Of course not. Berto bet that the secret will be out by the end of the week. We can't let him win that easily."

"If Dr. García gets angry about me walking around, I'm blaming both of you," said Héctor, his voice a little tight.

"Technically, he told you not to put any weight on your broken leg, right?" Oscar said, shifting his grip slightly on the arm slung across his shoulders. "And you're not. Felipe and I will make sure of that."

He wasn't putting weight on the old injury, but he wasn't lying in bed anymore either. With slow and careful movements from everyone involved, the pair managed to sit Héctor up with minimal jostling and pain. And once they let Héctor catch his breath, the twins slipped his arms across their shoulders and pulled him upright. With a brother on either side to support him, they slowly walked him across the wooden floor.

"Nice and easy," said Felipe. "We're in no hurry. We don't want you getting hurt on the way."

"I'm not even sure where we're going," Héctor mumbled when they paused briefly, letting him catch his breath from the exertion.

"Not far," assured Oscar. "But Rosita is doing laundry today and she'll want the bedding."

Felipe added, "It might also do you some good to get out of this room. Especially since you can stay awake for longer than half an hour at a time now."

Héctor could admit that the idea of not being completely confined to a bed was nice. He couldn't banish the stir-crazy feeling it caused. But even with the twins supporting him, walking the short distance to the hallway sapped much of his limited strength.

Not to mention that his joints still felt stiff and resistant to his attempts to move and the fading pain in his bones hadn't completely disappeared yet. Even if the effort wasn't exhausting, he knew he wouldn't be able to go very far without help.

"This way," Oscar said. "Just down the hall a little and then you can rest as long as you want."

"You'll like it. Imelda isn't always eager to replace old things with new. She doesn't see the point in upgrading something that's worked perfectly well in the past, though sometimes the latest family member to arrive can talk her into it. But she does make one big exception," said Felipe. "She keeps track of the improvements the younger people come up with and tends to save up for renovations every decade or so. So it's really nice."

Héctor didn't ask what they were talking about, too focused on keeping his movements slow and small to prevent it from hurting too much. Not to mention how tiring it was. But their words did send his thoughts in directions that he'd been avoiding.

Ever since he first woke up, he'd seen the various members of the household. Even when they didn't sit with him, Héctor caught glimpses during his waking hours. He'd seen Rosita and the twins mostly, but even Victoria would pause at the door and ask if he needed anything.

But not Imelda. After that visit with Dr. García shortly after he regained consciousness, Héctor had barely seen her. He heard her sometimes, her voice coming through the floorboards below. And he knew that she was busy, that he spent most of his time sleeping, and that he'd been confined to a single room. There were plenty of reasons why he might not have seen much of Imelda. But part of him, a part that he tried to silence and had been trying to silence for decades, wondered if she was avoiding him.

She spent so long trying to stay away from him. Héctor knew the feeling by now. Hearing her sing… Hearing her call him the love of her life… Feeling her hand in his… All those things gave him hope when he'd thought it to be extinguished years ago. But even as she allowed him under her roof, Imelda was avoiding him. She refused to look at him or speak to him. While many things had changed for the better, a few remained tragically familiar.

But as always, Héctor pushed that entire train of thought away. If Imelda needed space, then she could have it. He wouldn't try and push things. He couldn't follow her around, teasing out smiles and warmer moods with his music. Not that he could follow her around at all at the moment… Regardless, he wouldn't push her boundaries. He would keep his distance until she indicated otherwise.

"Almost there," said Oscar.

"Good," Héctor gasped, trying to catch his breath. "I need… a break."

Pushing open the door with his foot, Felipe said, "All right. Let's get you sat down then."

Héctor found himself staggering into a blue-and-white tiled bathroom. The beautiful tiles felt smooth and cool underfoot. There was a sink and mirror on one end of the room and a large tub rested at the other. Next to the tub was a chair, a small stack of towels and folded clothes resting on top. The twins helped him the rest of the way, letting him finally sit on the edge of the tub and rest.

"Our sister likes relaxing in a warm bath," Oscar said, letting Héctor's arms slide off. "Indoor plumbing, a very large water heater, and a nice bathroom on each floor is pretty much her one real splurge."

"And we thought you might like to relax in a warm bath while the bedding gets washed," said Felipe.

"Not to mention we left you some of our spare clothes to change into. It probably won't be a perfect fit, but closer than Julio's. That way we can add your pants to the laundry."

Héctor glanced down at the torn and fraying edges of his pant legs. He wasn't completely certain that they would survive many more washings without coming apart. Add in the fact that he still didn't know where his shirt ended up and Héctor was beginning to wonder if he would get to keep any of his clothes.

"Though I'm not certain if your splints can get wet," mumbled Felipe. "I guess we should have asked Dr. García about that."

Having finally caught his breath again, Héctor said, "There's an easy way around that."

Reaching down to his left leg, he pulled weakly. It seemed to require more effort than he was used to, but Héctor blamed his general weakness and exhaustion. The bones popped apart at the knee. With his tibia still bound together, Héctor laid his detached limb on the cool tile. The broken rib wrapped in medical tape followed the same way. Keeping his arm out of the water would be simple enough, so he left it alone.

"I guess that works," said Oscar, eyeing the removed the body parts uneasily. "You know most people don't do that much. Not that casually, at least. Most people find it—"

"—a little uncomfortable," Felipe finished.

Giving a small shrug, Héctor said, "It's not so bad when you get used to it."

Shaking his head slightly, Felipe reached over and turned one of the knobs. Warm water poured from the faucet. It was quite a step up from the days where the water needed to be drawn from the well, heated over a fire, and then poured in the tub. Imelda certainly fixed up a nice and modern bathroom.

Far too nice for anyone who dwelled in Shantytown.

"Need any more help?" Felipe asked uneasily, drawing Héctor's attention back to them. "I mean, there's nothing really to see and we can help, but—"

"—it might be a little awkward, all things considered," finished Oscar. "Though dumping you into the tub with your pants on might be even more awkward."

"I can manage this much," he assured, slowly shrugging off one suspender from his shoulder and then the other. "I'll just take my time. And gracias. Both of you."

"Try not to sleep in the tub too long," said Oscar with a grin. "And make sure you wash—"

"—that wild mop of hair," Felipe continued, the pair teasing him gently. "It is just like when you were courting our sister. Remember? Imelda said—"

"—that you could never keep your hair neat for more than an hour. Though—"

"—part of the reason for that might have been because she kept running her fingers through your hair."

Héctor smiled wistfully at the memories their words conjured. He could almost feel phantom fingers moving along his skull. He always loved the sensation when Imelda would drag her nails across his scalp lightly, usually right before pulling his face down for a kiss. It was a wonderful memory.

And whether or not Imelda truly wanted to try again, Héctor would still have those memories.

Turning off the water before it climbed too high, Felipe asked, "Are you sure that you'll be fine?"

"It's not like I can drown," said Héctor, shifting slightly on the edge of the bathtub. "And I'm doing better now. Not great, but… I think I can manage at least to get in the tub on my own."

"Well, don't wear yourself out," Oscar said. "We'll be back later and help you get ready."

"You make it sound like I have something important coming up," said Héctor with a wry smile. "I am pretty sure that my schedule is empty. Unless you count sleeping all afternoon."

"You'll see," the pair said in unison, something they did rarely.

And with that ominous statement, the twins slipped out and closed the door behind them, leaving Héctor alone with the lightly-steaming tub of water. He waited a moment more, trying to puzzle out what they might have in mind. But even as he made the attempt to guess what Oscar and Felipe were up to, he knew that it was a pointless effort.

Hopefully it wouldn't end in disaster. He still remembered when they were thirteen and that thing they made with the pulleys, wires, and the fireworks. Héctor wouldn't be surprised if the people of Santa Cecilia still told stories of that terrifying day.

Untying the rope that served as a belt was easy enough. The tight loop around his pelvis kept him from losing his pants even when he frequently fell apart, but the knot didn't require much effort or dexterity to undo. From there, the fabric practically fell to the floor. It crumbled on top of his detached leg and rib. Héctor left it there; folding them or even moving his pants somewhere else seemed like too much effort at the moment.

Slipping into the warm water, Héctor could barely resist the urge to sigh from the pleasant sensation. He didn't have muscles any longer, but he remembered the feeling of the soreness that a hard day's labor could induce. The farms around Santa Cecilia always needed an extra set of hands near the harvest and the money that a week or two of work brought in could help in the leaner times, so he had experience with the way it would leave his muscles sore and stiff for days afterwards. And he remembered how soaking in warm water could loosen those muscles and ease the worst of it. Though he also remembered small and strong hands massaging the knots in his shoulders and back as he sat in a chair, her arms eventually snaking around his neck in a hug and him leaning his head back until he could turn to face her…

But the warmth from the water seemed to ease the aches in his bones the same way that it once would have soothed sore muscles. It seemed to sink deep down, down to the very marrow.

Yes, he could certainly see why Imelda would choose to invest in both indoor plumbing and the nice bathtub. It felt glorious.

He was too tall to easily fit his whole body. Héctor was used to that. He let himself sink deeper into the water, leaving his remaining attached leg to dangle over the edge and his right arm over the side. With his new position, the water reached up to his clavicles, filling his chest cavity and lapping gently over his ribs. The exertion and soreness caused by his first trip out of bed seemed to melt away, leaving him pleasantly drowsy.

Héctor saw some bottles sitting next to the tub, filled with various types of goop intended for cleaning up. Far more than he saw in life and more specialized than what his family in Shantytown ever got their hands on, using the same cheap and harsh soap bars when they bothered to clean anything. But Héctor could read the descriptions on the bottles and figure out their specific purposes. There was a goop to clean hair and a different good to smooth and soften it, which explained why Imelda's hair somehow looked even more beautiful than he remembered in life. And there was a jar labeled "bone polish," a thicker and gritty cream meant to be used with a soft cloth. All the different jars and bottles would keep any skeleton looking their best.

But for now, he didn't reach for any of them. It seemed that Oscar was right about his prediction. Héctor felt too warm, comfortable, and drowsy to do anything. Not yet. He could wash properly in a few minutes. But first… maybe he could close his eyes… for a little while…

I wanted to have a little screen time for Miguel's parents. They didn't get much time in the film, but they did seem like loving and good people. Not perfect or infallible, but none of the characters in "Coco" are.

"Calore" means "warmth" or "con calore" means "warmly." If either phrase is written above part of the sheet music, it means that the music should be played with a warm quality to the sound.